#(bruce and gilles.. can you leave me alone for two just two seconds?)

[a-la-rascasse]

Happy birthday CHRIS AMON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (20/07/1943 - ∞) ⚡

Christopher Arthur Amon was born in Bulls, New Zealand, in a family of wealthy sheep-owners and he was their only child. Growing up on the family farm, he learned to drive at a young age: with the help of a farm worker, at only six years old, he learned to drive the tractor. After finishing his school years, at 17 years old, Chris' fascination with speed manifested itself: first he got his flight license and later he persuaded his father to purchase his first ever car, an Austin A40 special and took part in small local races and hillclimb competitions (and used to practise a lot on the family farm). With his family's support, he later bought a Cooper and then a Maserati 250F; but his talent started shining when he started driving the Cooper-Climax T51 (the same that Bruce McLaren used to win his first ever grand prix). The talented young Kiwi caught the attention of the English driver Reg Parnell, that asked him to join his team back in England, and subsequently a chance to enter in the world of Formula 1

Following a series of tests for the team Parnell, Chris made his debut at the Monaco GP in 1963, but luck didn't seem to be on his side (not even at his debut race ffs): his teammate's car, the French Maurice Trintignat, developed a misfire, so he had to take Chris' car. He stayed with the Parnell team until Reg's sudden passing. In 1965 Chris found himself without a seat so, fellow Kiwi Bruce McLaren, managed to get him to join Ford with him as a test driver, a very important step in his career. In that same period of time, he sporadically raced for different teams, but always as a replacement. But in 1966, he would go on and score his biggest achivement of his career: partnered up with Bruce, at the wheel of a Ford GT40, the two Kiwis won the prestigious 24 hours of Le Mans.

His recent success, put Chris under the spotlight and of course it attracted a lot of offers, but the one that appealed the most the young driver, was the one he got from Enzo Ferrari to drive for the Scuderia. As a Ferrari driver he really managed to show his driving skills, gaining a lot of podiums, but never managing to score a win: he often got let down by his machinery or suffered accidents, and not only in Formula 1, but many other competitions (12 hours of Sebring, 1000km of Monza or Nurbirgring); but in 1969 Chris won the Tasman Series driving for the Scuderia Veloce. After his stay with the Italian team, Chris made what was to be the first of several moves to smaller and newer teams like March, then the French Matra, the Italian Tecno and even tried to create his own team in 1974, the Chris Amon Racing, but unfortunately the car wasn't competitive enough, and later decided to abandon the project. His last F1 race would be the infamous '76 German GP, driving for Ensign: he retired from the race after he stopped to rescue Niki Lauda from his burning Ferrari, he later stated that he saw way too many drivers die in similar conditions and that he wanted to act. After rescuing the Austrian driver, Chris refused to restart the race, Morris Nunn, the team boss, decided to fire him for that, giving Chris a good reason to retire from F1, and go back to New Zealand.

In 1977, after being persuaded by Walter Wolf, he briefly took part in the Can-Am series, but later left his seat for the young and promising French-Canadian driver, Gilles Villeneuve.

After retiring he went back to New Zealand and for a long time dedicated himself in running the family farm, and later in the 80s he would appear test-driving cars in a TV programme called Motor-show. In 2016, Chris would pass away of cancer, at the age of 73.

Despite Gilles being 'discovered' by James Hunt, it was Chris that pushed Ferrari to sign the young driver, after witnessing his talent during the Can-Am series, stating that "No problem, take my word for it…this is your man".

About his 'bad' luck, Chris often stated, on several occasions, that he competed for a decade and a half in Formula 1 and survived some serious accidents, whilst others, including many friends, suffered serious injuries and death, so he actually never considered himself unlucky.

Despite not having won an official F1 race/World championship, he scored 11 podiums and he's regarded as one of the best drivers to have graced the sport, underlining once again that talent is what makes the difference.

#tw death #happy birthdaaay chriiiiiiis aaaaaaaaah!!!!! #ngl I have such a soft spot for him he's such a sweetheart!! #I feel a bit guilty for this wall of text but chris deserves every essay ever!! #(bruce and gilles.. can you leave me alone for two just two seconds?) #they live in my head rent free #chris amon #<3333 #classic f1 #f1 #formula 1 #retro f1 #f1 1960s #f1 1970s #f1_bdays

[birdhaslostit]

🎁🎄❄️What the Lupin Gang would do for Christmas!❄️🎄🎁

Helloooooooo Lupin fans! You may or may not remember me as that one chick who made that Halloween headcanon post a few months back, as well as the Jigen’s bangs post. I’m back with a Christmas post!!!

Please note: Personally, I really only celebrate Christmas in a non-Jesus-y way. (Which is how I’m also writing this post, because let’s be honest, do you really think Lupin is going to confession and shit? Absolutely not.) It’s purely out of habit because I was raised Catholic, but I practice witchcraft now. My family doesn’t know that though. Because of this, I considered also making posts for other winter holidays, so I could include Lupin fans that don’t celebrate Christmas. But I didn’t want to accidentally mess it up, or write something inaccurate about a holiday that I don’t celebrate. It felt disingenuous to make a Hanukkah post because I’m not Jewish and it doesn’t seem like my place, and I didn’t want to do a Yule one either, because no two people celebrate it the same way. So, I strongly encourage others to add their respective winter festivities to this post if they want to! We’re all about inclusivity here.

Without further ado:

🎁LUPIN:

I don’t feel like it needs saying, but this man goes bonkers for Christmas.

He flip-flops his choice of red or green jacket by the year. But it always comes with an equally garish Christmas-themed tie, just to make explicitly clear that this is The Christmas Jacket for the year, as opposed to the standard red/green jacket.

The hideout(s) are always decorated to the GILLS inside. It’s an odd mix of older classy decorations he’s inherited from his family, and absolutely horrendously tacky ones he’s bought himself. 

Picture real branch garlands, wrapped tastefully around gilded candelabras that have been passed down through several generations. And then one of those singing, dancing stuffed animals from Walmart that plays “Jingle Bell Rock” when you squeeze its paw, right next to it.

Christmas-themed heists? You know it, baby. But he won’t steal anything on Christmas Eve or Christmas. It just isn’t in the spirit of the season, in his opinion. But he’ll leave a little something-something with his calling cards during the rest of December. A candy cane, a sprig of mistletoe, a bough of holly, etc.

Lupin despises eggnog. He loves any other Christmas drink, just not eggnog. He’s too grossed out by the idea of drinking eggs with alcohol- some things just shouldn’t be mixed.

Will not allow anyone to mention the truth about Santa Claus in his presence. Yeah, he knows, but that’s not the point. It just feels like bad luck to say it out loud. The harder Jigen tries to debate with him that Santa isn’t real, the harder he digs in his heels that “of course he is you absolute Scrooge, how dare you! If you don’t believe, you don’t receive.”

Favorite Christmas Songs: Anything peppy! 

Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney

Step Into Christmas by Elton John

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

We Need a Little Christmas by Percy Faith and his Orchestra

A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

Santa Claus’ Party by Les Baxter

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Literally anything except eggnog.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Anything obscenely sugary. Especially gingerbread men and other decorated pastries.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Loves to ice skate and make gingerbread houses! But his houses usually look fairly pathetic, no matter how hard he tries.

Favorite Christmas Movie(s): 

The Grinch (Jim Carrey version)

Home Alone

Scrooged

Christmas Gifts: The king of gag gifts, but he also gives surprisingly thoughtful presents too. He’s the kind of guy that would get a person something they mentioned once offhandedly that they really liked, and he’d go back and get it for them.

🎅JIGEN:

Lupin always wants to decorate the hideout(s) the second Halloween ends, but it never happens. With Jigen being the only American in the gang, he always puts a stop to it in order to preserve the quickly-disappearing border between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

What can I say, dude loves his Thanksgiving excuse to eat like shit and do nothing for a day. Even if it is a fucked-up holiday, historically speaking.

But once the Thanksgiving meal is over, he gives Lupin the okay to go crazy. He’s pretty stoked about Christmas too, but too full of turkey to contribute, so he just watches Lupin hang up Christmas lights everywhere while he lays on the couch and digests.

Jigen likes Christmas a lot, but like, in a normal person kind of way. Nowhere near Lupin’s insane level. He’s surprisingly open about his enthusiasm too. The average person would think he doesn’t really care about Christmas much (or anything else really), but to the gang, Christmastime is the most openly excited they’ve ever seen him.

One year’s Christmas-themed heist involved Jigen dressing up as a mall Santa as a part of the plan. The gang powdered his beard, gave him a pillow for his stomach, and sent him on his way. Everything went surprisingly smoothly, and he actually did pretty well with the kids. At first they were a little intimidated, and Jigen was kind of nervous- but he gave them all candy canes and they changed their minds pretty quickly.

Jigen enjoyed it a lot, actually... to the point that he may have potentially started volunteering to be the local mall Santa. Every year during December, he leaves for a day or two on “business.” Nobody in the gang can prove it though, and trust me, they’ve tried.

Favorite Christmas Songs: The classics and the chill ones, with a few rock ones thrown in for a little kick.

Mele Kalikimaka by Bing Crosby

Sleigh Bells by Gene Autry

(There’s No Place Like) Home For The Holidays by Perry Como

Jingle Bells by Frank Sinatra

Caroling, Caroling by Nat King Cole

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow by Dean Martin

Silver Bells by Dean Martin

Happy Holiday by Bing Crosby

Run Rudolph Run by Chuck Berry

Merry Christmas Baby by Bruce Springsteen (Sang this once after too much eggnog and will never live it down)

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen by the Barenaked Ladies (He’s not into all the Jesus-y stuff, but it’s pretty catchy.)

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Jigen is ALL. ABOUT. THAT. NOG. He’ll make his cup a little stronger than everyone else’s.

Favorite Christmas Foods: He really likes candy canes, especially the mini ones. He’ll keep a few in his pocket with his cigs, and switch between them depending on his mood. Out of habit, it’ll usually dangle out of his mouth like a cigarette would.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Watching Christmas movies and laughing at Lupin’s shitty gingerbread houses.

Favorite Christmas Movies: 

Anything that’s on at the moment, really. He likes to lounge by the TV, and he’s not picky. 

He has a soft spot for A Charlie Brown Christmas though.

A Christmas Story, solely because of the BB gun.

Scrooged, because Bill Murray’s hilarious.

Christmas Gifts: Something practical and useful that the person never realized they needed until they opened the box.

☃️GOEMON:

Goemon wasn’t originally a huge fan of Christmas. Shocking, I know.

He now enjoys some aspects of it, and tolerates others. He likes the idea of giving heartfelt gifts and spending time with loved ones as a tradition, but dislikes the cheesy commercial aspect of Christmas.

He already enjoys the snow and walking through the forest, so the gang usually commissions him to pick a tree for them and cut it down with Zantetsuken. (If they’re somewhere where that’s an option.)

Unbeknownst to the rest of the gang, he will always replant the tree he cut down, and he will wrap something cozy around the bottom of the sapling to keep it safe. Yes, this was directly inspired by A Charlie Brown Christmas. No, he will not admit to this.

Favorite Christmas Songs: The instrumentals, and a few he’d rather die than admit to liking.

The Nutcracker March from The Nutcracker

Waltz of the Flowers from The Nutcracker

Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker

Christmas Time Is Here (Instrumental) by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Greensleeves by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Last Christmas by Wham! (He likes the storyline and the romantic aspect of it.)

Do They Know It’s Christmas? by Band Aid (He likes that it was for a good cause, even if it has its flaws.)

Happy Xmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon and Yoko Ono (Again, flawed, but he enjoys the intended message of peace. Also, represents Japan on the side with Yoko Ono.)

White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Surprisingly fond of hot cocoa. Heavy on the whipped cream and marshmallows. 

Favorite Christmas Foods: Doesn’t really like eating gingerbread men, but enjoys decorating them. They’re always pristine, like something you’d get in a bakery.

Favorite Christmas Activities: See above. Also enjoys going out in the snow, and making ice sculptures with Zantetsuken.

Favorite Christmas Movies: Refuses to admit he likes any of these.

Any of the classic Rankin Bass claymation specials.

Any other animated ones for kids. Has a soft spot for A Charlie Brown Christmas and The Polar Express.

A few of those cheesy Hallmark ones.

Christmas Gifts: Something small and sentimental he saw while walking by a store that reminded him of the person he’s giving it to. Nothing extravagant, but thoughtful nonetheless.

⛸FUJIKO:

Fujiko decorates the tree. Period. Lupin cannot be trusted to do this on his own. Goemon picks the tree, Lupin and Jigen put it in the stand, and from there, it’s all Fujiko. The ornaments, lights, and tree skirt are all perfectly color/theme coordinated, and arranged like a pristine store display. 

She also has a few ornaments that she bought for each specific member of the gang. Lupin’s is a monkey (he was not pleased, but he’s whipped for her, so he let her keep it). Jigen’s is a carved wooden pistol. Goemon’s is porcelain, with hand-painted sakura blossoms on it. She bought one for Zenigata too as a joke one year- a tiny bowl of ramen noodles.

Her ornament? The star on top of the tree, because she’s the star of the show, baby. It’s actually a snowflake, made of the finest crystal she could steal.

Favorite Christmas Songs: Pop music and Motown’s finest.

Underneath The Tree by Kelly Clarkson

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande

This Christmas by Donny Hathaway

What Christmas Means To Me by Stevie Wonder

Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes 

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Darlene Love

A Marshmallow World by Darlene Love

I Like A Sleighride (Jingle Bells) by Peggy Lee

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Hot chocolate and mulled wine.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Loves baking and eating gingerbread men. She lets Goemon decorate them with her. Hers have lots of candy and sprinkles on them, while his are just icing.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Along with baking, ice skating! She’s the best at it out of the whole group. None of the guys are particularly good at it, but she makes them go with her at least once regardless.

Favorite Christmas Movies:

Hallmark ones, solely to make fun of them.

Babes In Toyland, but only the 1986 one, because it has Keanu Reeves in it, and “I don’t care if I’m your girlfriend, Lupin. In this house, we support Keanu Reeves.”

Christmas Gifts: Something expensive/extravagant that will make the person think of her every time they use it.

🎄ZENIGATA:

Zenigata is the second biggest Christmas enthusiast, just behind Lupin.

He doesn’t get to settle down and decorate anything really, since he’s always running after the gang, but he does lots of other little things to celebrate instead. Like getting hot chocolate instead of coffee, tuning the squad car radio to the Christmas station, getting an air freshener that smells like gingerbread, and wearing a festive scarf and gloves with his trench coat to keep out the cold.

In years past, Zenigata still had to work on Christmas Eve/Christmas, even if Lupin wasn’t out stealing anything. Lupin found out and thought that was a little harsh of ICPO, so he came up with a plan. 

Each year he sends a calling card to the station with the conditions that only Zenigata can come to investigate. Zenigata does some research, shows up to the location on Christmas Eve, and every year, nothing’s there except for a neatly wrapped present from Lupin. 

Zenigata keeps the present as “evidence,” goes back to the station, and they give him Christmas off to go investigate on his own, in case Lupin tries anything else. Lupin never does, but the station doesn’t know that. Bada bing, bada boom, Lupin just got Zenigata a vacation.

Zenigata never catches on, bless his heart.

Favorite Christmas Songs: Ones he can sing/hum along to in the squad car.

The Man With All The Toys by The Beach Boys

Celebrate Me Home by Kenny Loggins

Feliz Navidad by José Feliciano (Does Zenigata understand Spanish? Absolutely not. Does he get the point and think it’s festive? Darn right.)

A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer by Dean Martin

Winter Wonderland by the Eurythmics

Silver Bells by Dean Martin

Happy Holiday/The Holiday Season by Andy Williams

Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town by Gene Autry

December by Earth, Wind, and Fire (Let him have this okay, it’s a good song and he gets made fun of for liking it by the rest of ICPO)

Skating by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Hot cocoa and eggnog, but not strong eggnog like Jigen’s.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Anything, really. It’s something besides cup noodles, so he’s grateful. Lupin’s gift always includes lots of various Christmas goodies because of this.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Zenigata enjoys the snow in theory, but doesn’t handle the cold well. So he likes to watch the snow from his window while he listens to Christmas music in his squad car and sips his hot cocoa.

Favorite Christmas Movies: He doesn’t really have a lot of time to sit down a watch a movie, with how hard he works. But he remembers a few from when he was younger, and he really likes those. His favorite is Frosty the Snowman.

Christmas Gifts: Something inexpensive because ICPO vastly underpays this poor man, and he’s always embarrassed because of that, but it’s always something super sweet and heartfelt.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And for those who don’t celebrate it, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! <3

#lupin #lupin iii #lupin the 3rd #lupin the third #rupan sansei #daisuke jigen #jigen daisuke #fujiko mine #fujiko #mine Fujiko #koichi zenigata #zenigata #goemon #goemon ishikawa xiii #ishikawa goemon xiii #Christmas #Xmas #obligatory Christmas post right after thanksgiving

[schweeeppess]

a/n: mermay day 1 prompt for me was "encounter". so yes. enjoy.

"Dick, again?" Tim complained, beating his tail a little to keep up with his brothers. "You do this every day."

"Exactly," Dick answered, flashing him a smile. "It's tradition!"

Jason rolled his eyes, effortlessly swimming at a pace faster than Dick and Tim's. Neither of the latter minded because they knew Jason didn't do it on purpose--he was just huge.

"Just go with it, Timberlake," he drawled. "We're going to do this the rest of our lives."

Dick laughed at Tim's displeased click, moving a little faster to keep up with Jason, and caught sight of a flash in his peripheral.

"Don't go too close to the beach, Dick," Jason cautioned as Dick started swimming for it. "Humans are dangerous."

Dick's response was a dismissive flick of his royal blue tail. "I know, Jason."

Jason and Tim hung back on the deeper parts of the water, watching out for their adopted brother. Their pod was small, but that didn't matter to them. Dick, Jason, and Tim had found each other.

They stuck together, fought together, and never left each other behind, no matter what. That'd earned them all their scars: Jason had his along his dark crimson tail, back, arms, and one on his face across his cheek, Dick's mostly on his chest and upper arms, and Tim's scattered around his body. Many of their scars were related to animal attacks, but the rest were humans. Their boats, their nets, their greed.

So Jason and Tim always accompanied Dick whenever he went out for his swims near the beaches. And they always kept an eye out for humans. The children weren't a concern--they were rather pleasant, actually--like the older humans were.

"What do you think he saw?" Tim asked, tilting his head a little, his dark hair gently following the movemnt in the calm water.

Jason shrugged, crossing his arms. "Dunno. Could've been anything."

Tim snorted and beat his medallion-colored tail, looking over his shoulder.

"Think we could hunt afterward?"

"Probably, if Dick found something small." Jason glanced over at Tim. "What're you in the mood for?"

Making a face, Tim thought about it. "Amberjack?" he finally settled on. "We're in the area for it."

Nodding he said, "We'll see."

Dick was swimming out farther, so Jason and Tim moved to start after him, Jason saying he was going for a breath of air as he started swimming upwards.

"Why?" Tim asked, gills flaring a little to credit his question, swimming directly beneath him.

Jason lightly shrugged. "Why not?"

When his head broke out of the water, Jason coughed some water out of his lungs to clear them. It was always a pain transitioning from underwater to above it.

But it was usually worth it, like it was then, Jason figured as he sucked in a deep lungful of the clear oceany oxygen and felt the wind on his face.

He sighed, lifting his webbed hand to brush the hair out of his face.

Glancing down at the water, he was pleased to be able to see Tim, at the very least, swimming in wide and slow circles beneath him.

When he lifted his eyes to lazily look around, he froze and went wide-eyed.

There, on the rocks closest to the ocean, were humans. Normally that wouldn't be an issue--just adjust their course. Problem solved.

But Dick was heading straight for them, and he was likely already too far to really be able to hear them.

Hissing a few curses in the spoken language humans used, Jason dove back under water and coughed as the water re-entered his lungs.

Noticing him, Tim swam over. "Having fun choking?" he asked slyly with a raised brow.

"Humans!" Jason clicked back sharply. "Dick's swimming right at humans!"

Instantly Tim was darting off, powerful beats of his tail carrying him in Dick's direction at a speed rivaling a mako shark's.

Shaking himself off once, Jason followed, going a little slower because of his size but catching up quickly all the same.

When they were near enough, Tim released the loudest clicks and whistles he could. Jason did the same only a moment later.

“Fuck,” Jason hissed. “We’re going to get unwanted attention thanks to this.”

“Sharks,” Tim agreed a moment before resuming the distressed warning calls.

They could see the moment Dick heard them, because he froze and whipped around to face them, eyes wide and face set seriously as he raced to meet them.

“What’s going on?” he asked when he barely avoided barreling straight into Jason, looking around wildly. “What’s wrong?”

“Humans,” Jason responded. “You were heading straight for them.”

Dick seemed to relax when he heard what had them so frantic, and he nodded, pulling them both into a hug. He’d been really stressed about them, hadn’t he?

For some reason Jason found it slightly amusing.

...which only lasted, like, four seconds.

Because they hadn’t noticed in their relief, but now Jason did. He had to. He was staring directly at him.

The human was in the water.

“Dick,” he said. “Dick we have to go.”

His brother pulled away and turned to look in the direction Jason was looking, and he paled a little.

Curiously, the human waved.

Tim tilted his head. The human was massive, probably built bigger than Jason, with hair as dark as theirs. But the thing that they could all make out were the scars that marred his body too.

“He doesn’t seem hostile,” Tim slowly murmured.

“Oh, come on,” Jason scoffed, pulling at his brothers as he tried to get them to leave. “He’s built like a damn rock. He’s dangerous.”

“Jay,” Dick started, slipping his arm from Jason’s hold, “I think Tim’s right. Look.” He pointed with a clawed finger at a small thing beside the large human, and said, “He has a little one.”

Jason hesitated. The ones with the children were usually kinder humans, more likely to smile and be polite than chase them off rudely, especially if their kid was interested in them. He looked at the human’s child suspiciously, looking for any fear or reluctance that would imply less than preferable intent on the bigger human’s part, but only found eager excitement.

The humans swam up for air, and Jason let Tim’s wrist go.

Both his brothers turned to look back at him and Jason sighed.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded. “But if this goes south, don’t think I won’t say I told you so.”

Dick laughed and Tim rolled his eyes as the three slowly made their way over to the humans, the scales of their tails glinting in the sunlight now that they were just below the water’s surface instead of deeper.

By the time they reached the rocks, the two humans were as close to the water as they could be, the older one seemingly curious but more hesitant than the younger boy was.

After a brief discussion (argument), Dick and Jason popped their heads out of the water to speak with the humans.

“Hello,” Dick greeted in the spoken language with a small smile. “Can we help you?”

“This is a bad idea,” Jason mumbled, warily eyeing them.

Dick hit him upside the head and Jason made a face as he rubbed the spot with a hand.

“You are merfolk,” the boy said, chartreuse eyes glinting. “Correct?”

Dick smiled a little again and answered.

“Yes, little one, you are. My name is Dick Grayson. This is my brother Jason, who should tell our littlest brother it’s okay for him to speak with you too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason rolled his eyes, diving again to briefly give Tim the green light.

He resurfaced with Tim popping up to his right.

“That’s Tim,” Dick introduced as the youngest merboy hacked up the water from his lungs.

The bigger human nodded and spoke before the child could.

“My name is Bruce Wayne, and this is my son, Damian.”

Odd. The little one was darker than his father, by a notable margin. Bruce must have mated with a rather darker toned female. Where was she?

Jason didn’t ask, though. He wasn’t exactly overly interested.

“You seemed to want our attention?” Tim asked, finally able to breathe.

“Your kind fascinate me,” the little one--Damian, they needed to remember--rushed out, blushing a little.

The three merfolk collectively blinked at the same time.

“Oh,” Dick said. “Well, your vocabulary impresses me. You are young, yet speak like someone many years your senior.”

“That,” Bruce spoke up, “would be his mother’s influence.”

Jason smacked his hand over Tim’s mouth before he could speak faster than he could think. 

“Nice, kid,” Jason nodded. “Always good to be educated.”

There was a question Damian wanted to ask, just begging to be voiced, but Jason and Dick could see his anxious hesitation.

The oldest two glanced at each other, and Jason shrugged.

Dick swam as close as he could and started to climb a rock beside Damian and Bruce’s as the humans looked on curiously. When he was comfortable, entire body out of the water, Dick smiled over at Damian and waved his tail a little.

“Would you like to feel it?” he asked.

“Is it okay if he does?” Bruce responded with a quick glance at Jason.

“Dick offered,” Jason blandly retorted. 

When nobody moved, Jason scoffed, “I won’t attack you.”

“Had to be sure,” Bruce shrugged as Damian carefully picked his way over to Dick. He hesitated before reaching out and brushing his hand along the glinting royal blue scales of Dick’s tail.

“Wow,” he breathed, joy so obvious in his body language that it was practically blinding.

Tim smacked Jason’s hand off his mouth--Jason had completely forgotten he’d had it there--and huffed at his older brother. Jason shrugged.

Damian moved on from Dick’s tail to his hand, lifting it and inspecting the webbing between his fingers, then the sharp nails on them. When he was done with that, he asked if he could look at Dick’s gills.

Of course, Dick agreed and tilted his head so Damian could get a better look at them. This time the kid kept his hands to himself, observing with his eyes, and he nodded when he was done, clearly overjoyed at being able to meet and interact with a merman.

“Thank you,” he said to Dick.

Dick smiled and hugged the boy carefully, patting his back as the kid raised his arms to return the embrace. “Thanks for being nice about it, Damian.”

Suddenly Jason tensed.

They weren’t alone.

He hissed, diving back underwater and looking around frantically, ignoring the confused and worried calls of his name. He had to take care of the threat and keep his brothers--and the humans too, he guessed--safe.

When he saw the shark, he growled and was swimming at it instantly, punching it square in the eye when he was close enough and landing a solid hit to it’s snout with the muscle of his tail.

The shark was clearly unprepared for a healthy merfolk, a more medium-sized one likely not fully matured, and was deterred from pursuing a meal with another hit from Jason’s tail.

Jason watched it swim away, clicking angrily after it. Only when he couldn’t see it anymore did he return to the others, Tim now replaced with Dick in the water.

He didn’t trust the humans with his little brother one bit, but Dick made it clear that he should give them a chance before hand, so Jason didn’t make nearly as big a fuss as he normally would have when he popped his head out of the water and watched Damian interact with Tim.

“The colors are all dark,” Damian noted with a tilt of his head as he looked at Tim’s tail. “Why?”

“We live deeper underwater,” Jason supplied. “Darker down there, and we need to blend in, you know?”

Damian nodded, and asked another question, which Tim answered. Then Dick spoke, and it went like that for about thirty minutes before Bruce said that he and Damian had to go.

Jason, Dick, and Tim waved to their new human acquaintances with the promise of meeting them at the same spot in two days’ time.

“You know, Jay,” Dick said as they swam for Tim’s fish, “if we’d bet on how that was going to turn out, you’d be in debt.”

“Can it.”

“He is right,” Tim piped up.

“Shhh.”

#mermay #mermay 2019 #batfam mermay #my writing #my work #my fanfiction #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #Merman!Dick Grayson #Merman!Jason Todd #Merman!Tim Drake #uhhh #yeah #I hope you like #mermay day 1

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Hi! I love the imaginetonyandbucky blog, there's so much amazing fic and art on here. Prompt: Alpha Tony, Omega Bucky. Can be as G-rated or as smutty as you want, I'm simply flat-out tired of submissive Tony. Give me the alpha who fought off hostile businesses and gold diggers, and the omega soldier who followed orders. Optional Beta Steve.

Combined with:

I’ve seen a lot of alpha!Bucky/omega!Tony, but not much the other way around. Just… Bucky in the 40’s, only dating female alphas because most alpha men were jerks. No respect in the army ‘til he learns to snipe. HYDRA injecting him full of chemicals because an Asset in heat is just inconvenient. Tony being scorned by Howard because he’s too soft, too small. Tony never liking the alpha stereotypes or the reputation he gains because of them… Them meeting their equal but opposite in each other.            

and:

Imagine a switch on the A/B/O where Bucky is the Omega and Tony is Alpha. Bucky gets pregnant.      

and:

Imagine Bucky completely hiding his sexuality in the 40s (if he got arrested who would look after Steve?), 70 years later Tony is his first (male) everything.

No Such Thing as Soulmates (Probably) - Part I of II

The scent hits Tony the moment he steps out of the elevator; sweet, almost cloying in its intensity, settling thickly in the back of his throat when he breathes in too deeply. It’s overwhelmingly strong, and has Tony stagger before he braces himself with a hand against the wall, blinking rapidly and shaking his head against the fog threatening to descend over the more rational parts of his brain.

This isn’t Tony’s first encounter with an Omega in heat, not by a long shot, but it’s the first time since early puberty that his body and hindbrain are reacting in complete, harmonic unison without his say-so. He has to close his eyes, and cup his hands over his nose and mouth, breathing in the smells of a day spent tinkering in his workshop to calm down his racing heart, and soothe his Alpha instincts currently going absolutely haywire.

Once his head feels a little clearer, Tony slowly removes his hands, takes an experimental breath, and lets out a relieved sigh when nothing happens. He considers heading back to his own floor, and scouring his own, much emptier fridge for something to eat, but the sour, distressed note buried under the prominent Omega in heat scent makes him hesitate. Worrying his bottom lip, Tony cautiously makes his way towards the kitchen, but stops in the doorway when he’s greeted with a growl.

Barnes is sitting on the floor amidst a mess of loose tea leaves and shards of a shattered mug, pressed back against the cabinets, legs drawn up against his chest, arms resting on his knees, and face buried in his arms. He doesn’t look up at Tony, but he does make another low warning noise when Tony carefully inches across the room, reminding Tony to keep his distance.

(Watch out for the break!)

Tony concentrates on radiating calm, trying to appear as harmless and non-threatening as possible, but Barnes remains tense and suspicious while Tony gets two new mugs, fills them with water, and puts them in the microwave. He rummages through the first aid kit until he finds the heat pack, wets a dish towel, and then grabs the ginger tea and adds a bag to each mug when the microwave dings.

When everything’s ready, he sits down across from Barnes—who has lifted his head in the meantime, just enough to track Tony’s movements—far enough away to not encroach on his personal space, and puts his offerings on the floor between them. “Hi,” he says, nudging the heat pack a little closer to Barnes, and smiling reassuringly. “These things are great for muscle pain.”

Barnes watches him warily, and Tony can’t blame him. They haven’t had much to do with each other in the month and a half since Steve brought Barnes in, apart from a couple of meetings with Helen and Bruce to discuss the issues with Barnes’ prosthesis—comfort clearly hadn’t been a priority of the goddamned butchers who first installed it—and how to fix them. And now Barnes is in heat, in a bad one from the looks of it, as vulnerable as he’ll ever get, and Tony is an Alpha he barely knows, an almost stranger his instincts are most likely telling him is a possible threat.

Even though Barnes could easily take Tony out with both hands tied behind his back. While blindfolded, probably. Saying as much makes one corner of Barnes’ mouth twitch up, and his shoulders relax minutely, which Tony decides counts as progress.

“The tea’s ginger, it’s supposed to help with nausea,” he says, nodding at the mug. “And we still have some of that mixed flower honey Nat brought back from Switzerland, if you want.”

Barnes shakes his head, and reaches for the towel, draping it over the back of his neck with a quiet hiss. “This is fine,” he says, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. He grabs the heat pack, too, and uncurls enough to slip it under his shirt, pressing it against his abdomen. “Thanks.”

His hands are trembling when he goes for the mug, bad enough that some of the tea sloshes over the rim, and he nearly drops it. Tony reacts without thinking, and leans forward to put a hand over Barnes’ to steady him, and they both freeze. Tony’s about to apologise—way to be a pushy Alpha douchebag—when he notices that while Barnes’ scent has flared up, it’s not with fear or anger or defensiveness, but with interest.

Tony feels it a moment later; a warm tingling sensation, fanning out from where Tony’s fingers are touching Barnes’, and slowly but steadily spreading up Tony’s arm, over his shoulder, and down his back, across his whole body. He’s suddenly hyperaware of Barnes, all senses tuned in on Barnes, and Barnes alone.

And he knows what it means, too. They’re compatible.

People less jaded than Tony call it the soulmate phenomenon, and tend to romanticise the whole thing, talk about finding their one true love. It’s a nice idea, albeit an inaccurate one. Some people have dozens of compatible partners, while others have none at all. The only thing being compatible really means is that the compatible parties are biologically and emotionally as close to perfect for each other as possible, and that there’s the potential to form a bond, if the people involved decide to put in the time and work.

“Oh,” Barnes breathes, and lifts his free hand to brush a tentative thumb over Tony’s cheek.

Tony gasps, the skin under Barnes’ thumb flushing and warming, and sways into the touch for a moment before he catches himself. “This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Barnes’ eyes are wide, his pupils blown when he looks at Tony, but his expression is serious nonetheless. “Doesn’t have to. Could, though?”

Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He sucks at his bottom lip, considering, and watches Barnes’ eyes drop down to his mouth before lazily, unashamedly being dragged back up to Tony’s. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

“‘M thinkin’,” Barnes says, and puts the mug down on the floor next to them so he can, after waiting for Tony’s nod of permission, settle both his hands on Tony’s waist and tug him closer, “that ‘m hurtin’, and there’s a gorgeous Alpha right in front of me. An’ that he could help me out. That it’d be good.”

“What about suppressants?” Tony asks, even as he moves with Barnes until he’s straddling Barnes’ now outstretched legs. “Spending your heat with an Alpha isn’t the only option you have here.”

That makes Barnes’ bare his teeth, his scent bittering with anger. “‘M full to the gills with suppressants already. Whatever HYDRA did to me, I didn’t have heats while I was with ‘em, as far as I remember. Doctors think my body’s tryin’ to catch up now.”

“Shit,” Tony says, the picture of eloquence. He winces apologetically. “I’m sorry. About, well. All of it.”

Barnes shrugs, dismissive. “‘S not your fault. ‘Sides,” he waggles his eyebrows, but he’s grinning a little, making it look more dorky than sexy, “heat partners are s’pposed to be better than suppressant, ain’t they?”

“Definitely the case when it comes to ruts,” Tony agrees, and lets some more of his weight settle in Barnes’ lap. “That what you want? A heat partner? Just this once, a favour kind of thing? Or make it something regular? Something more?”

To his credit, Barnes takes a couple of seconds to think about it before he answers. “I want someone to do this with me, this time. An’ if it goes well, maybe do it again. ‘M open to more, if you are.”

“So,” Tony says, wiggling in place a little, anticipation building now. “Hot, mindblowing heat sex now, see how it goes, and go from there? You’ve got yourself a deal, Barnes.”

“Mindblowin’, huh?” Barnes teases, and Tony kisses him.

Barnes growls again, low and full of promise this time, and grabs Tony by the back of the neck with his metal hand, tilting his head for a better angle. Tony lets himself be moved, shuddering when he tests Barnes’ grip, which is tight enough that getting away would be a struggle. “Bossy,” he murmurs against Barnes’s cheek, flicking his tongue out to lick at the corner of his mouth. “I like it.”

That makes Barnes pull back a little, brows drawing together into a frown. He flexes his fingers, seemingly fascinated when Tony lets out an appreciative moan. “You do,” he breathes, awed. “I didn’t think—I’ve never done this, any of it, with an Alpha. Or another guy.” He smiles, sheepish. “‘M used to takin’ charge.”

“No complaints here.” Tony winks at him, and ducks in for another quick kiss, before sitting back. “We can take it slow, do as little or as much as you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I want everythin’,” Barnes groans, eyes fluttering. He pushes up with his hips, grinding his erection against Tony’s ass, and guides Tony back in to bring their mouths back together. “Been waitin’ for so long, you have no idea. Never could, before, was too dangerous. Couldn’t let myself get caught with a Beta guy, or ‘nother Omega, they woulda locked me up for good, taken me away from my family. Couldn’t risk havin’ some shithead Alpha claim me, either, put me behind a stove, force me to pop out a bunch of kids for ‘im.”

Tony pauses at that, and moves back, despite Barnes’ protesting whine. “Have you done any of this before? Alpha women weren’t legally allowed to claim anyone until the 70s, and Beta women can’t—”

“‘M not into women,” Barnes says, pushing his free hand under Tony’s tank to grope at his pecs. Tony has no idea what his face is doing, but he must look pretty close to how horrified he feels, because Barnes winds both arms around him, hugging him close. “Sucked for a lot’a us back then, but it was what it was.”

“So,” Tony asks, burying his nose in Barnes’ hair to breathe him in. “You never dated? Anyone? Or—are you a virgin?”

He feels more than hears Barnes sigh. “Depends on your definition of the word. I dated, had a few steady Alpha girlfriends to keep up appearances, took ‘em out to dinner or dancin’, all very proper. A kiss here an’ there, coupla handjobs. Not sure I woulda managed to do more, anyway.”

“If you want to stop—”

“Does this,” Barnes twitches his hips up again, his cock still rock hard, “feel like I want to stop?”

Tony wants to ask if he’s sure, but swallows the question back. Barnes is a grown man, who’s had more than enough choices taken away from him in the past. Tony’s not going to be someone who makes him feel like his decisions aren’t valid or getting respected. He does press closer, though, and rub his cheek against the top of Barnes’ head, covering him in his scent in a possessive, blatantly obvious soothing gesture.

Barnes hums, amused, and playfully nips at the hinge of Tony’s jaw. “Such a good Alpha.”

He’s being a little shit, the rational part of Tony knows that, but it makes him preen anyway. Barnes laughs into Tony’s neck, sliding his hands up over Tony’s back, scratching softly through his shirt. Tony gently bites at his ear in return, grinning when it makes Barnes breath stutter, and asks, “What do you want?”

“A bed would be pretty nice, for starters,” Barnes says, voice sly, and jostles Tony a little. “Gettin’ heavy there, buddy.”

His knees are definitely happy about getting off the floor, but Tony still shoots Barnes a flat look as he levers himself up. “Too bad you don’t have superhuman strength,” he says, deadpan, holding out a hand. “Up and at ‘em, Barnes, come on.”

Barnes lets Tony pull him up, then links his fingers through Tony’s. “If you plan on stickin’ your dick in me, you should probably start callin’ me Bucky.”

- Potrix

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha tony #omega bucky #mating cycles/in heat #future mpreg #soulmates #soulmate au #kind of #enthusiastic consent #no sex yet #but part ii is pretty much pwp #prompts #potrix

[dccomicsimagines]

What You Don’t Know - Young Justice Imagine - Part Two

Part One

Requested by Anon -  a second part of the being Robin's sister a can't control your powers imagine.

“Now guys, we have to go through security, so please leave any questionable items at home,” Dick reminded as he pulled on his sweatshirt. The rest of the team was gathered in the living room of the cave, waiting to go visit you. 

Artemis pulled a compacted crossbow out of her pocket, grumbling as she tossed it on the coffee table. 

“Come on, Rob,” Wally whined, collapsing onto the couch. “Can we go already? I’m tired of waiting.” 

Dick sighed, checking over everyone again. He focused on Conner. “Conner, can you zip up your jacket? It’s not good to walk into Arkham wearing a Superman symbol.” Conner pouted, looking down at his shirt. M’gann patted his shoulder reassuredly before zipping up his jacket for him.

“Robin, I understand you are nervous, but aren’t there only certain hours we can visit? We should be off,” Kaldur began, placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder. Dick sighed again.

“Okay, okay, we’ll get going,” Dick said, leading the way towards the zeta tube. Just when he was about to enter, he turned to face the team. “Oh yeah, don’t call me Robin while we’re there. If (Y/N) is associated with Robin or Batman, she could be in danger.”

“So, what do you want us to call you?” M’gann asked curiously as the others watched Dick carefully. Wally just grinned, knowing what was coming.

“You can call me Dick,” Dick answered shortly, entering the zeta tube before he had to see their reactions. Frankly, he was tired of people reacting to his name.

“What?” Conner, Artemis, M’gann, and Kaldur gasped at the same time. Wally chuckled at their reaction.

“It’s short for Richard,” Wally explained before trotting after Dick. The others looked at each other for a moment. Recovering from the new information, they entered the zeta tube after Dick and Wally.

It took a solid hour to get through security. Poor Dick was close to having a nervous breakdown. He kept thinking how easily the team could be found out. After all, if the guard found Kaldur’s gills or if Conner let his temper get the best of him or if Wally used his super-speed, it would end badly. Add all those fears to Dick’s hatred of the fact you were locked in Arkham, and Dick was secretly dying on the inside.

Eventually, the team made it to the visiting room. Bruce’s influence on your care could be seen in the room as it had comfortable furniture and several nonelectrical forms of entertainment.

The door opened at the opposite end revealing you. You grinned at the sight of Dick, running to hug him. Tears slipped down your cheeks, so happy to be with someone who loved you. While he wouldn’t admit it, tears of his own burned his eyes.

The rest of the team stood back, letting the two of you have a private moment. 

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, burying your face into his shoulder. 

Dick chuckled despite his tears. “You saw me last night.”

You simply hummed. “They started the new therapy today. It gave me a headache.” 

“I’m sorry, but this one will work. I can feel it,” Dick soothed, reaching up to stroke your hair.

“Maybe,” you mumbled unconvincingly, pulling away from Dick. You wiped your tears before you finally noticed the other people in the room. Suddenly shy, you hid behind Dick. “Dick, who are those people?”

Dick chuckled, choking slightly when you tugged on his sweatshirt hood. “(Y/N), these are my friends from...basketball.” 

Conner snorted, shaking his head. “Basketball? Are you kidding?” M’gann elbowed him in the stomach, silencing him. The others didn’t say a word, studying you. Wally cocked his head at you, noticing the family resemblance between you and Dick. 

Dick pulled you out from behind him, taking hold of your hand. “You don’t need to be scared, (Y/N). They’re very nice, I swear.” You shrank back behind him again, not liking how those people were looking at you. Dick sighed before giving the team a sheepish smile. “(Y/N) isn’t used to strangers.” 

“It’s alright...Dick,” Kaldur began, taking charge. He took a step forward, but careful to keep his distance from you. “Hello (Y/N). My name is Kaldur. Your brother has told us a lot about you.” 

You blinked, glancing over at Dick in surprise. “Did he say good things or bad things?” 

“Not enough things if you ask me,” Wally added, bumping Kaldur out of the way before coming towards you. He grabbed your free hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Like how beautiful you are.” Your face burned as you snatched your hand out of his grasp. 

“Knock it off,” Dick snorted, stepping between you and Wally. “That’s Wally, (Y/N). Ignore him.” 

“You freaked her out, Baywatch,” Artemis snapped, slapping Wally’s arm. Wally flinched, sticking his tongue out at her. You giggled, hiding behind Dick again. “Hey (Y/N), I’m Artemis. It’s nice to meet you,” Artemis said when you peeked out at her. You waved back at her.

“(Y/N), you can get traught. No one here is going to hurt you,” Dick explained, pulling you out to face M’gann and Conner. Conner simply glared at you, making you shrink back behind Dick. “Conner, stop being so intimating.” 

M’gann took Conner’s chin to make him look at her. They seemed to speak to one another, but their lips didn’t move. Conner’s eyes softened before he looked back at you.

“Hi, (Y/N),” M’gann greeted. “You can call me Megan, and this is Conner.” You studied them before relaxing a little. 

“So...” Wally began, putting his hands in his pockets before glancing around the room. “What’s there to do around here?” You looked at the ground, biting your lip. The truth was there wasn’t much to do for entertainment. 

Dick noticed your embarrassment, squeezing your hand gently. “Well, I know Bruce brought a new game when he visited yesterday. Did you get a chance to play it, (Y/N)?” 

 You shook your head, studying your feet. “Not enough people,” you mumbled softly. 

“We all would be happy to play it with you, (Y/N), if you would like?” Kaldur offered kindly. You glanced up at him before looking back at the ground.

“That sounds nice,” you replied softly. Dick grinned, pulling you over to a group of beanbag chairs. You sat down in one with Dick settling down beside you. The other made themselves comfortable around you. Kaldur sat in the chair on the other side of you, making you feel surprisingly relaxed. 

“I should warn you all, (Y/N) is a tough cookie. I have yet to beat her at anything,” Dick warned, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Really?” Wally gasped, giving Dick a surprised look. He turned towards you, narrowing his eyes. “You’re on, (Y/N). If I can beat (Y/N), it will be like beating you at something, Dick.” You snorted, rolling your eyes. Dick smiled to himself as he saw you finally relax for the first time in a long time.

Far too soon, it was time to go. You and Dick clung to one another, tears slipping down both your faces. The rest of the team watched with various expressions of pity and sadness. 

“You’ll be back soon?” you cried, your voice desperate. Dick nodded, tightening his arms around you.

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Dick soothed as he forced himself away from you. He wiped a tear from your cheek. “Stay whelmed, okay?”

Nodding, you tried to compose yourself. You glanced at the others. “It was nice to meet you all.” 

“It was nice to meet you too, (Y/N),” M’gann spoke, wrapping you in a hug. You blinked in surprise before hugging her back tightly. She pulled away from you to look you in the eye. “If it’s okay, can we visit you again?” 

“That would be nice,” you said, trying to hold back tears. Dick had turned away from you, hiding his own tears. Wally was patting his shoulder.

A guard entered, ushering the team out. Their last sight of you was you sobbing in the center of the room. 

“Are you okay, Dick?” Wally asked as the team was escorted down the hall. Kaldur moved to Dick’s other side, offering silent comfort.

“Yeah, sure,” Dick coughed, wiping his tears with his shirt sleeves. His cheeks flushed from slight embarrassment. “It’s just hard to leave her behind.” 

“(Y/N) seemed to enjoy our visit,” Kaldur observed quietly. 

Dick nodded, agreeing with him. “Yeah, she was happier than I seen her in a long time.”  He glanced at Wally, chuckling. “You know when you were being all creepy and calling her beautiful that was the first time I heard her laugh in a long time.” 

Wally grinned. “I do my best.” 

Artemis turned around, walking backwards to speak to Dick. “When will (Y/N) be able to leave here?” 

“Whenever she can control her powers,” Dick explained tiredly. “She is trying a new therapy that might work, but I’m afraid she might be losing hope. (Y/N) is all alone, and in constant danger from the other inmates.”

Kaldur frowned before laying a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “We will help your sister in anyway we can.” 

“Yeah, you can count on us,” Wally replied as Artemis nodded. M’gann and Conner gave their agreement through the mind link. Dick smiled, hoping that the help of his friends would be enough to finally get you out of this place.

In the following weeks, the team visited you several times. Sometimes together, and other times separately. There was a change in you from having so many visitors. You brightened, smiling more than ever. 

However, one of Dick’s worst fears came true. He and Wally were standing outside Arkham, ready to go in to visit you when the alarms started going off. 

“What’s happening?” Dick demanded at one of the guards who was about to let them in through the first gate. 

“There’s been a prison break,” the guard explained, pressing a button to lock down the gate. “The two of you need to go.” 

“Wait, who escaped?!” Dick shouted after the guard as he ran out of the room. “My sister is in there, please, who escaped?!”

“Dick,” Wally warned, placing a hand on his shoulder. He leaned down to whisper in Dick’s ear. “Come on, this is not the way to help.” 

Eyes widening, Dick nodded as both he and Wally slipped into the shadows. When they were out of sight, the two found a place to discretely change into their costumes. 

Once he was dressed, Dick started hacking into Arkham’s security on his wrist computer. Wally peeked over his shoulder, waiting for Dick to find something.

“Damn it,” Dick swore, slamming his fist into the wall next to him. “I can’t get anything. Everything is locked out, I’m going to need direct access to the system.” Dick’s heart had a fist around it as his fear for you grew. Every minute could be a minute too late. He couldn’t lose you, his only living blood relation. 

“Dick, calm down,” Wally soothed, checking to make sure they hadn’t been heard. “We’ll just break into the guard station at the main gate. That computer should work, right?”

“Ideally,” Dick mumbled as gunshots echoed from Arkham. Dick flinched, mentally imaging those shots to be aimed at you. He buried his face into his hands. “Oh god.” Dick felt like he was dying.

Wally studied Dick fearfully, having never seen him act like this. He started to vibrate, unsure of what to do. “Dick, what do you want me to do?”

Dick took an unsteady breath, forcing himself to focus on the mission. “Okay...okay,” Dick mumbled, thinking of a plan. “There is a window on the east side of the guard station. If you could give me a boost, I should be able to turn off the alarm and slip inside to open the door for you.” 

Following Dick’s plan, the two boys were inside of the guard station within minutes. Dick was hacking the computer while Wally paced impatiently behind him. 

Just when Dick was about to find the security footage of your cell, the computer short circuited. Dick recognized it right away. “(Y/N)...she must be in danger.” Panicked, Dick got to his feet. He sprinted towards the door only to be stopped in his tracks when he crashed into Wally.

“What are you doing? You can’t just run in there.” Wally held onto Dick as Dick fought to get away. There was no rational thought in Dick’s mind. All he knew was that he had to save you. 

“I can’t lose her. Let me go.” Dick fought harder as Wally’s grip tightened. While the boys fought, the computer suddenly reset itself. It blinked for several seconds before revealing footage from inside the asylum. 

Wally noticed the change when Dick’s head knocked into his chin. “Ouch, Dick. Look at the computer.” Dick complied, his body freezing from shock at the sight. 

All the escapees, the Joker, Two-Face, and Scarecrow among them, were locked in a single room with knockout gas spilling through the vents. The computer flashed to a shot of your cell. You were standing by a control panel outside of your cell, pressing your hand against it with a satisfied smile on your face. The sight of you calmed Dick like nothing else.

The picture flickered, revealing the escapees again, unconscious on the floor. Suddenly the gas was filtered out of the room, and the doors opened to let the guards in.  The screen went back to you as you removed your hand from the panel. 

“(Y/N) stopped them,” Dick gasped, finally shaking himself into awareness. Tears sparked in his eyes. “They have control of their powers.” 

“Well, you always said the therapy was going to work,” Wally replied, grinning. He frowned when he noticed several guards appeared, running in their direction. “Hey Rob, we got to get out of here. The guards are coming back.” 

Dick’s eyes didn’t leave you. “Yeah, right,” he said, distractedly. Wally sighed when Dick didn’t move. Scooping Dick up, Wally ran him out of there, disappearing from the guards’ sight in a flash. 

Dick paced in the waiting room of Arkham. Bruce and Alfred were sitting in chairs nearby, watching Dick pace.

“Master Dick, sit down. Pacing is not going to make things go faster,” Alfred scolded. Dick sighed before sinking down into a chair.

“Why does this have to take so long? Can they just let her out already?” Dick groaned, burying his face in his hands. 

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. “These things take time, Dick. They have to make sure (Y/N) is ready for the outside world. Plus, there is the paperwork.” 

“(Y/N) has been in there for two years. You think they would get a move on since they already took up so much of her life,” Dick snapped, receiving a glare from Alfred for his tone of voice. Dick looked down, clearing his throat. “Sorry Alfred.” 

“Have a little patience, Master Dick,” Alfred warned as he glanced at his watch. He was also getting a little impatient at the wait. 

“I don’t think we’ll have to wait too much longer,” Bruce interjected, getting to his feet as the door across the room opened to revealed you. You were dressed in regular clothes for once as you had finally been allowed to discard the Arkham uniform. The bright smile on your face brought similar smiles onto the faces of the three men. 

“Dick!” You ran into Dick’s arms first, almost knocking him to the ground. Bruce had to put a hand on Dick’s shoulder to steady the two of you. 

“(Y/N), you’re finally free,” Dick mumbled, burying his face into your shoulder to hide the tears forming in his eyes. 

You didn’t bother to hide your tears, letting them flow freely down your face. “I know,” you whispered, squeezing him tighter. Pulling away from him a moment later, you looked him in the eye. “It’s thanks to you, Dick. You never gave up on me.” 

“I never will,” Dick replied, giving you a smile. 

You turned toward Bruce before jumping into his arms. Bruce laughed, hugging you tightly.

“My little angel,” Bruce mumbled softly in your ear. You giggled at his nickname for you, wrapping your arms around his neck. Bruce kissed the top of your head. “I’m so glad you are coming home.” 

“Me too.” Bruce set you down. You spun to Alfred, wrapping your arms around his waist before he could protest. “I’ve missed you, Alfred.” 

A rare smile appeared on the butler's lips. Alfred patted your head affectionately. “I’ve missed you too, Miss (Y/N).” A glimmer of a tear appeared in the corner of the butler’s eye, but he quickly blinked it away. He pulled away from you. “Come along now, I still have your welcome home dinner to prepare, Miss (Y/N).” 

“Yeah, he’s been planning it for days,” Dick whispered, wrapping his arm around you as you all walked towards the exit. 

Just before you stepped through the exit, you paused. You kept waiting for something to stop you and throw you back in your cell. Dick stopped beside you, knowing what was going through your head.

“It’s okay, (Y/N). No one is going to stop you,” Dick reassured you, stepping through the exit. He held his hand out to you, waiting for you to follow. A smile grew upon your lips as you took his hand, stepping out to freedom without glancing behind at the prison that held you for so long.

#dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #robin #robin imagine #young justice imagines #yj imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert

[itispossibleihaveissues]

This Night Chapter 5

TITLE: This Night AUTHOR: Mikimoo RECIPIENT: tristen84 PAIRING: JayDick RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Off screen Non-Con, murder of innocent young people, violence

SUMMARY: The Red Hood and Officer Grayson are on the same case. A small misstep has far reaching consequences for them both.

Chapter 1, 2 3 4

An hour was a long time, and even having Dick within arms reach hadn't lessened Jason's anxiety about him. In some ways, it was worse, being able to hear Dick’s shallow breathing and knowing Wilson had his hands on him. He knew it was irrational – Wilson was helping them, and being as impersonal with carrying Dick as he had been when he tended Jason's ankle - but Jason felt the same way about it as he did about having the delicate bones of his foot resting in Wilson's big hand; like his skin was crawling and he was seconds away from violence.

It wasn't as though he himself hadn’t worked with Wilson before, albeit rather reluctantly, and he had been professional despite the somewhat extenuating circumstances. Jason felt his cheeks heat at the memory. He was going to studiously avoid thinking about that.

Luckily there was plenty to distract him from past embarrassments - they had done well making their way through the jungle, but ran into trouble within sight of the Jet. They approached from the west, and Jason held up a hand to stop Wilson in his tracks when he caught the slight glint of metal through the leaves. They were so damn close.

“What do you see, Red?” Wilson murmured, his soft voice making the hair stand up on the back of Jason's neck. He had dropped to a crouch, still holding Dick like he weighed nothing at all.  For his part, Dick looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes focused.

“There are men surrounding your Jet. I thought it was supposed to be invisible or something?” Jason growled back at him.

Wilson gave him a look. “Only when its in flight. It’s invisible to radar, not the naked eye.”

“That's rubbish.” Jason grumbled as he edged forward. “I can't see how many there are. But I suspect too many for a frontal assault.”

Wilson carefully laid Dick down against a tree and came forward, gesturing for Jason to move back so he could get a look. Jason squashed the feeling of irritation at the gesture and moved aside, returning to where Dick was pushing himself upright with a grimace.

“How you feeling, Dick-face?” he asked, crouching in front of him and resisting the urge to lay a hand on his forehead. It was obvious just from looking at him that he was running a fever and he wasn't sure how Dick would feel about unnecessary touching.

Dick scrunched up his nose “Like I got beaten, shot and drugged to the gills,” he said.

“That's pretty much what you look like too. Not going to win any beauty pageants with that face on.”

“Fuck off, I can still rock it.” Dick told him, unconvincingly. Then he frowned. “The infection is spreading in my leg. If I don't get it looked at soon it could go septic.” He looked up at Jason with a touch of genuine fear. “I could lose it. That can't happen, Jay.”

Jason nodded, but if Dick's leg was as bad as he suspected it was, then losing the limb was the least of their worries - sepsis was no joke, and although he had given Dick what antibiotics he could there was no telling if the drugs in his system had caused any sort of interaction or lessened their effectiveness.

“We won't let it happen, Dickie,” Jason reassured him, but the truth was that if they didn't deal with it soon it was going to become a very real risk.

Dick nodded. “Do we have any more water?”

“No, but there's more in the plane.”

Dick ran a shaking hand through his sweaty hair, dislodging a collection of leaves and dirt. “I'm not sure I can be much help getting on board I'm afraid.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But that's why we hired ourselves a supper efficient killer.”

Dick made a face at him, and Jason huffed. “Would it be better if I called him a soldier? That's kind of what he is in this situation. I don't think you can afford to take the moral high ground, here.”

“He doesn't have to kill them.” Dick complained.

Jason didn't think he sounded even slightly convincing, but it was enough to piss him off. “Right, so he goes easy on them, and it takes so long to get into the Jet you lose your leg. That what you want?”

Dick just stared at him. He looked guilty, which made Jason even angrier – this bullshit Bruce had indoctrinated him with was toxic - the idea that other people’s lives were more important than his own was problematic at best, but it was truly fucked up that this way of thinking was ingrained to such an extent, he couldn’t even feel  justified defending himself and his body, if doing so meant the people who were trying to kill him might die instead.

Jason couldn't fathom it. It was a fucking no-brainier to that, in a situation when it was 'them or us,' you did what you had to in order to survive - sacrificing yourself to save civilians, innocents or those you cared about made sense. Dieing to save your would be murderer was fucking stupid.

“What about me, huh, Dick?” he said “What about if us going slow and easy and not letting Wilson take kill shots means I catch a bullet? That worth it?”

“Jay-”

“As interesting as this argument is getting,” Wilson interrupted “It's a moot point. I was paid to keep you alive, not them, and I intend to do that. If that means killing these people, so be it.”

“I could just not pay you,” Dick countered.

Wilson nodded at Jason. “If you don't, he will. And if he doesn't have the cash, then I guess he'll be in my debt.” He smiled, slow and wide. “More in my debt,” he added as he watched Jason's cheeks heat.

Dick shot him a poisonous look, but it was tinged with curiosity. Jason was hoping to avoid that conversation if at all possible. Maybe he could convince Dick the whole exchange had been a fever dream.

“If you two are done trying to glare each other into submission and would like to get on with being rescued, might I suggest paying attention to the militia attacking my plane?”

Jason flushed again. You would think running for his life for days though a jungle would have taken president over embarrassment, but apparently not.

“I hate you,” Dick said. It wasn't clear which one of them he was referring to.

“Do you have a plan then, Wilson?” Jason growled to cover his discomfort. “We're outnumbered and outgunned, even with you here.”

“A frontal assault is pointless,” Wilson agreed. “And Grayson here is useless.”

“Screw you,” Dick said from the floor. He was scowling, but his eyes were a bit unfocused again.

“You're not the only one - Red looks like he's on his last legs too.” Wilson continued.

“At least both my legs are working,” Jason said, in an effort to get a rise out of Dick, he didn't like how thin his voice was. “And I'm less likely to fall on my face if there's a stiff breeze.”

“Yeah?” Dick said, twisting his mouth into the parody of a smile. “Come over here and say that. I'll bite your kneecaps.”

Wilson had a look of infinite patience on his weathered face, but then again, he had known Dick since his teens. It must have been quite trying then, let alone now – time hadn't mellowed Dick's sharp tongue or terrible sense of humour any.

Wilson handed Jason one of his big guns. “I'm going to radio through to the girl on the plane to see if she can get it going and get the defences engaged. Then I'm going to see how many I can pick off before they notice.”

“She's hardly a girl, Slade.” Dick said.

“You need to get your priorities straight, kid. And for the record, anyone under fifty with less than a hundred kills to their name is a girl or boy in my book.”

“And then?” Jason said, hating to agree with Wilson, but also feeling the need to prioritise survival over arguing terminology with an assassin.

“Then you just hold your position and kill anyone who gets close.”

Jason nodded and hefted his new weapon. Dick looked at him miserably, but it was very easy to ignore that expression and he hunkered down to watch as Wilson disappeared into the jungle like a phantom.

“I don't feel good about this,” Dick said.

“I don't feel like I care.” Jason aimed his gun towards the armed men he could see through the trees, but he wouldn't shoot unless he had to. No point in giving away their position.

Suddenly the Jet roared to life – Jason was strung so tight he jumped, but avoided firing the gun still clutched in his hands. Behind him, Dick gasped in surprise.

The gathered militia began shooting at it, but the rounds bounced off like they were hitting an invisible shield. Now this was what Jason had been hoping for when Wilson said he had a Night Jet. All it was missing was some serious firepower.  

As if in answer to his thought, flaps opened on the underside of the plane and started to spray the armed men with bullets. They screamed and fell, many running further into the jungle to escape. Jason assumed Wilson was coordinating things with Ruiz in the Jet and had got himself out of the line of fire. He and Dick were safe too, off to the side.

“We should get ready to run for it,” Jason told him, creeping back to where Dick was sitting, wide, eyed.

“What's happening?” He asked, and Jason realised he couldn't see from where he was sitting – he could hear the gunfire and the screaming though, so he should have had a pretty good idea.

“Officer Ruiz is shooting the shit out of the soldiers from the Jet. But I suppose its okay when she does it, her being a cop and all.”  

Dick winced, but otherwise ignored Jason as he tried to struggle to his feet. Jason got one of his arms round his shoulder and heaved him up. They wobbled for a moment, like a pair of blood-splattered bowling pins, then Wilson materialised out of the trees nearly giving Jason a heart attack  - he hadn't even heard him approach. Either he was losing his edge or Deathstroke was really just that good.

“Let’s get while the going’s good,” Wilson said, coming over to take Dick from him, but Jason was reluctant to let him go.

“Slade,” Dick said, settling back into Wilson's arms - he looked pained and uncomfortable, but Jason still hated that he used the man's first name with such familiarity.

The short run to the plane felt like an eternity with a target strapped to his back, but no shots were fired. Perhaps lady luck hadn't completely deserted him.

“Lower the doors,” Wilson barked suddenly, and Jason realised he must be speaking to Ruiz who had been controlling the Jet at his direction. The sight of the ramp descending filled Jason with such a feeling of profound relief he was almost dizzy with it.

 Once inside Jason blinked in the harsh lighting. Ruiz strode up, and it looked for a moment like she wanted to beat the life out of the both of them. So much so that Jason was braced for a punch as she stepped towards him and he was downright shocked when she wrapped her arms around him in a tight, almost vicious hug instead.

“Your face, Jay.” Dick said with the shadow of a grin as Wilson put him down on one of the seats. “It's like you've never had a cuddle before.”

“It wasn't a cuddle, Grayson.” Ruiz told him, primly. “It was an 'I'm happy you're not dead' embrace.”

“I'll have to try that some time, when I want a cuddle.” The expression on Dick's face would have been impish if he didn't look like he was about to keel over and die on the floor of the Jet.

“Whatever,” Jason grumbled, while Ruiz gave Dick a much gentler hug. She looked exhausted, as they all did, but Jason could see  under that was still the shadow of fear. He recognised much of  it was concern for Dick, who probably looked even worse to her than he did to Jason. He wasn't sure how to offer her comfort without revealing his own anxiety to Dick. “At least we all made it,” he tried, awkwardly.

“Before we get too ahead of ourselves,” Wilson interrupted, “I would like to point out that we are four hours from the nearest hospital that we can trust has not been infiltrated, and Grayson's continued use of this leg might not last that long.”

“Can you help me?” Dick asked. He sounded resigned.

“If you want to keep it, then I'm going to have to do some field surgery, clean and drain the wound. It's not going to be pleasant, but it has to be done. It’s already putrid, I can smell it from here.”

Dick looked like he was going to protest. Jason could well understand why – it would leave him feeling exposed and vulnerable, far worse than being carried in the man's arms. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, before common sense and the will to survive won out and he nodded.

“I'm going to get the Jet into the air,” Wilson said. “Jason, you get the medkit out and start setting up. Officer Ruiz, you take down time and start thinking over what the hell you are going to tell your superiors that won't get you or Grayson fired.”

Ruiz frowned at him, but at Jason's nod she reluctantly took a seat and strapped herself in, leaving Jason to do as he was told and start setting up for surgery. He found a very well stocked  kit – more like a mini emergency room, with drips, drugs and plenty of sterile equipment. There was even a stainless steel surface that flipped down to make a serviceable operating table.  

As the jet rumbled to life again he made his way back to Dick who was barely able to stand. They took it slow, as Jason's own legs were wobbling alarmingly and his ankle was throbbing in renewed agony as the last of the adrenaline he had been running on seemed to fade. Despite his body's objections, Jason managed to haul Dick to the back of the plane and prop him against the table.

“You're going to have to take your pants off,” he said, suddenly realising the other reason for Dick's reluctance for Wilson to treat him. “And your shirt, it's filthy. We can get you a new one, and some clean underwear you can wear while he works on you.”

Dick nodded, he looked upset for a moment, but then his jaw tightened. “You're going to have to help me,” he said stiffly.

“Sure thing, Dick-face.” Jason said, determined to keep it as light as possible – not an easy task as Dick struggled to slip his pants over his hips,  revealing the edges of yellowing bruises. Jason took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself and then helped Dick get his shirt over his head. His torso looked much worse in the stark light of the plane than it had in the cave. There was a number of cigarette burns clustered on one nipple and another deeper burn on the soft skin under his arm.

Dick avoided his eyes as Jason handed over a white t-shirt from the stash of clothes he had found with the medical supply's. Jason helped him get it on – they would deal with the more minor injuries after the leg situation had been debt with, and he suspected Dick would rather have as many clothes on as he could at the moment.

Kneeling down to help Dick take his boxers off was strangely difficult, as though the physical action had some sort of emotional significance he couldn't put his finger on. But from this new position, he realised that he could smell the wound too, and Wilson had been right – they had to act fast.

Dick stood away from the table, one hand clutching the cool surface for support and the other holding onto the pair of underpants Jason had handed him. Despite Jason's attempts to keep things as calm and impersonal as possible, he found he was really struggling – working the fresh pair of underwear up Dick’s bruised thighs and over finger shaped marks, was cruelly intimate in a way that was upsetting and confusing.  Jason's own fingers were shaking, and though he tried to convince himself it was with fatigue he knew that it wasn't.

He had never faced this kind of situation with someone he was close to before, he couldn't wrap his head around having to treat Dick as a victim – especially knowing how Dick would feel about being labelled as such. Jason just couldn't bring his own turbulent emotions to bear; the feelings of  impotent rage, of grief, guilt and doubt were just too overwhelming.

He remained on his knees for a long moment, trying to get himself together. He needed food and water, a couple of days of sleep. Everything felt worse in the kind of physical state they were all in, and practical things could make it better.

He stood awkwardly, and began rummaging in the other storage compartments, finding enough water and energy bars to keep them all going for another day or so at a push. He handed both to Dick who ignored the food in favour of guzzling more water. Jason didn't stop him, the moron knew he shouldn't drink too fast and if he puked it was his damn fault.

He stuffed an energy bar into his own mouth, suddenly really registering how hungry he was, and then took a selection to where Ruiz was sitting. She was asleep, her dirt-streaked face pinched with pain or bad dreams. Jason didn’t want to wake her so checked her breathing carefully - he figured she was just exhausted rather than unconscious so he left her where she was, with water and food by her side for when she woke.

As Jason returned to Dick's side, Wilson made his way up the plane towards them. Apparently the Night Jet had a trustworthy autopilot to go with those sweet guns.

“You ready, kid? this isn't going to be pleasant,” he said as he approached.

“Is it ever?” Dick asked, as Jason helped him back up onto the table. He looked somehow small and  deceptively fragile sitting there in a loose t-shirt and ill fitting briefs. Wilson handed him a couple of painkillers and another bottle of water, which Dick took with out question.

Wilson started laying out the things he would need while Jason stood back, feeling uncomfortable. “I'm going to give you some local anaesthetic, but it’s likely to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch regardless. So, Red, you’re going to have to be ready to hold him down if needed.”

Jason grimaced, he hopped it didn't come to that for his sanity's sake.  

Dick lay back on the table, his limbs loose and apparently relaxed, but the set of his jaw said otherwise.  When Wilson set to work, Dick turned his face to the wall and stared at it fixedly, like it held the secrets of the world.  Jason avoided looking at Dick as much as possible, unable to bear the thoughts swirling around his head. Instead, his eyes were drawn to Wilson, watching his reaction to the damage on Dick's skin.

His face was as calm and impassive as it had been when he tended to Jason's wounds, but Jason had been trained by the Bat. He could see the anger in the tension in his wrist, the slight twitch of his jaw.  It was pretty damn obvious what had happened to Dick, just from the visible injuries – and Dick had to know that too. Having Wilson witness it had to be hard, despite whatever weird-ass relationship they had.

Wilson cut open the partially cauterized wound to help drain it, and the smell made Jason's gut twist. If he hadn't rescued Dick, he would have died from this. If Wilson hadn't come to their aid he would have died. It was pure fucking luck they had managed this intervention in time and had access to enough medical equipment they could start to fix things.

Dick was trembling with the effort of keeping still or not crying out, so Jason took his hand and Dick gripped it tightly. Neither of them said anything. There was no point.

 By the time Wilson started to flush the wound with saline, Dick was barely holding it together, clinging to consciousness by pure stubborn will alone. His face was pinched with pain, and his cheeks were flushed with fever, but despite that and the bruises marring his skin he still looked beautiful. But then Jason suspected he would always find Dick Grayson beautiful, had done ever since the first time he got his ass kicked by him. His lips twisted up slightly at the memory.

“Nearly done,” Wilson grunted, he was inserting a drain and mopping up the mess his cleaning had made. “Got to take some more antibiotics and keep it clean.”

Jason wondered how long it had taken. Ruiz was still asleep, curled tightly in her chair, and Jason could feel the tug of pure exhaustion pulling him under too. He looked down at Dick, who was still clutching his hand. He was still awake, barely, a tiny sliver of blue showing under his mostly closed eyelids.

“Alright, kid,” Wilson said, his voice weirdly gentle. “Let’s get you to a proper seat. You've got three hours to rest.” Wilson scooped Dick up again, making him cry out softly, in pain or surprise. He also didn't let go of Jason's hand which made getting to the seats in the front of the plane a bit tricky, and nearly sent him tumbling face first under Wilson's boots.

Wilson looked amused as he lowered Dick to a seat and fetched him a warm blanket. Jason took the seat next to him and tried not to pass out in relief.

“You need me to give you a check-up too, Red?” Wilson asked.

“Nah, need sleep. You can fix me up proper when we land.” Jason shut his eyes for a second and when he opened them again, Wilson was gone.

“Welcome back,” Dick said in a quiet, hoarse voice.

Jason's whole body ached like he had been run over by the Batmobile. “How long was I out?”

“'About an hour,”

“You didn't sleep?”

Dick shook his head slightly. “Thought would be better to wait for you to wake. Then take my turn.”

“Moron. What's going to happen up here that wouldn't wake us both?”

Dick shrugged helplessly, wincing at the movement. “Just didn't feel right,” he admitted after a moment.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. You get some rest, I'll keep watch for you now, OK?”

“Thanks, Jay.”

Jason squeezed his hand, where their fingers were still entangled. “No problem, Dickie. I'll wake you when we get there.”

Dick's eyes were closed before Jason even finished speaking, and he finally let himself think about what would happen after. A lot of people were going to die for this, and he would make sure a few specific ones would fucking suffer before the end.  

#dick grayson #Jason Todd #jaydick #Slade Wilson #this night #mik trys to write stuff #my fics #My writing