(no subject)
Just collecting my meme fills.
**
Aquaman/Aqualad, non-graphic, one sided?
*
His king is his everything, though sometimes the ways others look at the pair of them make him think that this is not the way it should be.
“Kaldur’ahm,” Aquaman says, like he is his everything as well. Always Kaldur’ahm. Always sacred.
(“ - but you can call me Kaldur,” he tells his new friends, because there are reasons, because only - only his king, only Orin - )
Sometimes Kaldur feels brave and in the dark of night he whispers that name, Orin, like a god, like the sea, immense and gently pushing at him from all sides. Kaldur bites the skin near the back of his elbow and his fins on the backs of his calves ache for it instead. In these times he imagines: for Aquaman to grab him from behind and bite those fins, in affection and for purchase as they drift along in the sea, then to turn them right side around to press into him. Kaldur does not need to hear any crooning or songs from him to be convinced to fall compliant and wait for his intimate touch. Kaldur already knows Aquaman is the one he would choose in any ritual competition. There are no words, no song, no notes, that can portray the magnificence of Aquaman. Nor need to.
Presently, he is touching Kaldur, careful but affectionate fingers ruffling through his light hair. “I am proud of you,” Aquaman says, all smiles and his tone rumbles, delightfully resonant through the entirety of Kaldur. His gills fan out in excitement, gasping uselessly in the dry air. If Aquaman notices this obvious display of affection, he doesn’t mention it.
“Thank you, my king,” Kaldur says and his fins are more than aching, they are quivering and throbbing and all he wants is for his mentor to lean over and take them between his teeth and leave bitemarks.
**
Alfred beats like a million ninjas and rescues the team from certain death. Then offers everyone tea and stuff.
*
Robin is basically beaming like the sun, even though he’s tied up. That is mostly because Alfred is sweeping two of their captors off their feet with a long piece of wooden debris. As they fall with a crash, Alfred wastes no time in closing in on the guy trying to reload a new cartridge into his gun - he already wasted his first bullets on trying and failing to land a hit on Alfred descending with impressive acrobatics through the glass window on the roof.
There is a quick hand to the pressure point in the side of his neck and he’s out. Alfred snatches up the gun and finishes reloading in half a second, sparing the other half to readjust his cufflinks while pointing the gun at the lone remaining captor.
He sneers defiantly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Alfred succinctly lifts an eyebrow before shooting him in first the ear, then the ankle. He goes down with a shout and Alfred goes for his pressure point as well, just in case.
“Oh my god,” Wally says, awed. “Oh my lord.”
Alfred unties Robin first then goes back to check on the consciousness of the two he attacked first. In this time, Robin handles freeing the others: all tied up with fortified ropes around their joints, Superboy with the added Kryptonite necklace.
Alfred turns back around after he puts the finishing knot on the four men, now secured in their own rope, and he readjusts his personal domino mask fitting perfectly over the bridge of his nose, made specifically for these kinds of special occasions. “Really?” He questions with another eyebrow quirk, pulling off his soiled gloves and snapping on a fresh pair. “You all have to be better about not getting kidnapped.”
Robin is gushing. “You’re so the best, A.”
Kaldur nods, “Thank you,” though the sentiment is nearly overshadowed by Superboy scoffing in annoyance and embarrassment.
“We totally did have it covered,” M’gann more reassures gently towards Superboy than argues. She offers a bright and kind smile at Alfred in the wake of her words that convey just the opposite of ingratitude.
Alfred shakes his head with a sigh. “Oh, come on. My spice cakes and earl grey are waiting, and they’re best warm.”
**
Today, I woke up next to my best friend after lots of drinking and the best sex I've ever had in my life. The only problem is we're both straight males. FML
*
Saturday morning finds Wally blinking away the sunlight filtering through his blinds. Thinking back to just how he spent his Friday night he realizes that, if he were normal, he would have a killer hangover. This leads him to feeling triumphant about his metabolism. He then discovers that he has this general feeling of being really thoroughly awesome and satisfied.
“Good morning sunshine,” Dick says pleasantly enough from where he’s lying next to him. “Guess what? We fucked.”
Wally groans as he rubs at his eyes. “Language,” he warns wearily. “It’s too early for that.”
“Hm.” Dick just hums, superficially pretty and coy, tapping patiently on the pillow, fingers beating a steady patter right by Wally’s ear.
That helps beat Dick’s words into his brain too; Wally wonders if Dick knows him well enough to be doing that on purpose. “Wait, what?” He stops rubbing his eyes to stare speechlessly at Dick. At Dick lying naked in his bed.
His best friend smiles demurely, still playing the role of shy and lovestruck morning-after-companion, then ruins it by using the tapping finger to poke Wally sharply in the side of the face. “Pay attention, I said we fucked. There’s the used condom in the trash to prove it. I can run home and get my batkit to test the DNA of the semen to see if it’s yours.”
Wally sits up slowly, blinking owlishly now at the fact that he’s naked too. Huh. “But you don’t actually have a batkit, especially now that you’ve taken up the Nightwing mantle…”
“It’s just a stupid inside joke me and Bruce have.” Dick corrects, a little pointedly, though he’s still pretty amused with the whole situation. “Anyway, so there’s a used condom and I’m pretty goddamn sore - ”
“Language,” Wally reminds him.
“Fuck you,” Dick says far too gleefully, so Wally gives up completely on discouraging him. “Actually, yeah, it seems like I did all the bottoming last night. Can we try that next time?”
Wally groans again and buries his face in his hands. He’s starting to remember the stupidest thing he did for the ten seconds he managed to get drunk by challenging Dick to vodka shots (there are specific, traditional ways you’re supposed to drink vodka for a reason, Wally’s realizing), and that was leaning over and kissing Dick in all his flushed, sloppy drunkenness. “Oh my god, why are you acting like this about us having a drunken fling?”
Dick scoffs, slightly derisive, and slips from under the covers before crawling across the bed and swinging a leg over Wally’s hip to straddle him. “Because,” he says, completely seriously. “Even though I was blitzed one hundred and twenty percent out of my mind last night - ”
“Vodka,” Wally interjects, voice awed and admiring. “You had so much vodka, and that shit doesn’t even taste moderately, like, good.”
“Language.” Dick shoots back at him sarcastically and, while rolling his eyes at his best friend, Wally belatedly realizes that, hey, Dick is straddling him. And he’s completely naked still and sculpted like the amazing acrobat he is.
His mouth goes just a little dry and he’s remembering, play-by-play now that he’s really waking up, why he’s so bone deep tired yet satisfied. Dick is an acrobat, and if there was ever any doubt, it was cleared up last night. “Whoa. Dick. You are basically infinitely jointed.”
“I know,” Dick says smugly, but it melts into that serious expression again. “No, but back to my point. Even though I was incredibly drunk, I know you weren’t for most of the night. And since I know I don’t have any complaints and since you made the first move, we can make this work.”
Only years of dealing with socially inept superheroes and Dick’s mannerisms allows Wally to decipher the deeper meaning to his initially callous words. “That is the shittiest ‘I love you’ I have ever heard,” Wally grumbles as Dick presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You take after Bats in the relationship department, huh?”
Dick laughs against his throat and Wally feels warmth spread under his skin. “You’ve known me since I was ten. You knew what you were getting into.”
And yes, he thinks as Dick pulls away long enough to slip under the sheets again, layered right on top of Wally, he did and that’s probably why he bothered in the first place.
**
Joker and Harley have a daughter who stalks and dangerous-pranks Robin.
*
“Ooooh,” Wally sing-songs, kind of obnoxiously. “Robin got flowers from a secret admirer. The card reads Mayzie Tino - your secret girlfriend?”
Robin carefully schools his face into a non-reaction as Wally waves the flower bouquet around crooning about romantic notions and whether Batman knows he has a girlfriend who knows his secret identity. He doesn’t even try to warn him, mainly because Wally won’t shut up long enough for anyone else to get a word in and partially because Robin’s a little sensitive over any teasing because of this weird phase Mayzie’s going through. So the instant the speedster brings the flowers close enough to his face, he’s gasping and flopping to the floor.
The knockout gas is light, amateurishly dusted among the petals (Robin knows this from experience, though she is getting better…), so he doesn’t worry at all over it. Wally comes back to consciousness in two seconds flat, screeching. “Okay, what the hell, who is Mayzie and why is she sending her love through deadly flowers?”
“They’re not deadly. Just a little dangerous sometimes.” Robin points out, giving him an underhandedly innocent smile. “Anyway yeah, guys? There’s this girl who’s borderline stalking me? So be more careful.”
“Idiot,” Artemis mutters at Wally, but her eyes are alert and sharply pointed at the Boy Wonder at the word ‘stalking’.
He waves his hand airily at her in response. “Don’t worry, this has been going on for a while. Since basically her eighth birthday. We talked to her parents about it, but…well, Batman thinks it’s funny, so.” He shrugs helplessly. He doesn’t share his mentor’s point of view on this particular matter.
“Wait,” Kaldur starts slowly, “So you are personally acquainted with this girl and her family, Batman is aware that she sends you flowers meant to incapacitate you, and yet you both allow it to…persist?”
Well when it’s put like that, Robin can’t do much else other than shrug again. “Eh, she mixes it up, it’s not always flowers. Sometimes she actually gets really clever about it. Anyway, Batman probably thinks it’s good practice to keep me on my toes, if he was pressed to give a less superficial reason.”
M’gann is hovering over Wally and wiping at his nose with a handkerchief, who is just soaking up the extra attention with glee, but she looks up with a tilted head. “I’m a little confused?”
“Eh,” Robin offers noncommittally with another hand wave.
Superboy, Robin’s noticed, has gone from warily tensed to just plain wary. “Do we need to, uh, take care this? Somehow?” He asks hesitantly.
Robin offers a gentle smile and a headshake, since Superboy often responds better to emotional responses. “Naw. Seriously, this is as normal as it gets in Gotham.”
-
“Did you get my gift?” Mayzie trills that night on patrol. She drags her fingers playfully along the strings of her lute, just lightly enough to give off the smallest twang of the enhanced sound waves and give Robin the very beginnings of a headache.
“Stop that,” he grumbles. “Where’s your dad?”
She shrugs and giggles, burying her chin into her burgundy cape. “Did you get my gift?” She repeats sweetly. Her fingers rest teasingly on the lute, though her hands are still, and he wonders briefly if he was this aggravating at the age of ten.
Robin sighs. “Yeah, it wasn’t a very good gift.”
She laughs and sticks her tongue out. “Sorry darlin’, I’ll try hardah.” The face Robin makes at her intended emphasis of her mother’s accent only serves to make her laugh harder.
He scowls. “Look, I’m seriously really busy right now, can we do this later?”
Mayzie grins wildly for a second longer, licking at the corner of her mouth. He scowls further, no nonsense, steely and serious, until she sighs and finally nods dutifully (if he has to hand out compliments where they are due, she’s a smart girl and compliant when it matters most).
She stands and balances carefully on the edge of the building as she redistributes her weight. He watches her carefully out the side of his sightline to keep track of her movements - it’s not very hard, her costume is bright white with a burgundy scarf tight around the waist, which Robin kind of suspects is her parents’ way of making it highly easy to keep an eye on her when she attempts to sneak off (which explains exactly why the Joker and Harley tend to pop up when she hangs around him and Batman for too long). But Mayzie doesn’t try another trick, just salutes playfully at him before clambering silently up and over the roof and off into the night.
“You know,” Robin mutters, because he knows Batman has been watching them, or at least listening in over the comm link. “I don’t think this is actually as funny as you’re making it out to be. You’re not exactly known for your sense of humor.”
Batman says nothing, but the radio silence has a hint of amusement to its static.
**
Aquaman/Aqualad, non-graphic, one sided?
*
His king is his everything, though sometimes the ways others look at the pair of them make him think that this is not the way it should be.
“Kaldur’ahm,” Aquaman says, like he is his everything as well. Always Kaldur’ahm. Always sacred.
(“ - but you can call me Kaldur,” he tells his new friends, because there are reasons, because only - only his king, only Orin - )
Sometimes Kaldur feels brave and in the dark of night he whispers that name, Orin, like a god, like the sea, immense and gently pushing at him from all sides. Kaldur bites the skin near the back of his elbow and his fins on the backs of his calves ache for it instead. In these times he imagines: for Aquaman to grab him from behind and bite those fins, in affection and for purchase as they drift along in the sea, then to turn them right side around to press into him. Kaldur does not need to hear any crooning or songs from him to be convinced to fall compliant and wait for his intimate touch. Kaldur already knows Aquaman is the one he would choose in any ritual competition. There are no words, no song, no notes, that can portray the magnificence of Aquaman. Nor need to.
Presently, he is touching Kaldur, careful but affectionate fingers ruffling through his light hair. “I am proud of you,” Aquaman says, all smiles and his tone rumbles, delightfully resonant through the entirety of Kaldur. His gills fan out in excitement, gasping uselessly in the dry air. If Aquaman notices this obvious display of affection, he doesn’t mention it.
“Thank you, my king,” Kaldur says and his fins are more than aching, they are quivering and throbbing and all he wants is for his mentor to lean over and take them between his teeth and leave bitemarks.
**
Alfred beats like a million ninjas and rescues the team from certain death. Then offers everyone tea and stuff.
*
Robin is basically beaming like the sun, even though he’s tied up. That is mostly because Alfred is sweeping two of their captors off their feet with a long piece of wooden debris. As they fall with a crash, Alfred wastes no time in closing in on the guy trying to reload a new cartridge into his gun - he already wasted his first bullets on trying and failing to land a hit on Alfred descending with impressive acrobatics through the glass window on the roof.
There is a quick hand to the pressure point in the side of his neck and he’s out. Alfred snatches up the gun and finishes reloading in half a second, sparing the other half to readjust his cufflinks while pointing the gun at the lone remaining captor.
He sneers defiantly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Alfred succinctly lifts an eyebrow before shooting him in first the ear, then the ankle. He goes down with a shout and Alfred goes for his pressure point as well, just in case.
“Oh my god,” Wally says, awed. “Oh my lord.”
Alfred unties Robin first then goes back to check on the consciousness of the two he attacked first. In this time, Robin handles freeing the others: all tied up with fortified ropes around their joints, Superboy with the added Kryptonite necklace.
Alfred turns back around after he puts the finishing knot on the four men, now secured in their own rope, and he readjusts his personal domino mask fitting perfectly over the bridge of his nose, made specifically for these kinds of special occasions. “Really?” He questions with another eyebrow quirk, pulling off his soiled gloves and snapping on a fresh pair. “You all have to be better about not getting kidnapped.”
Robin is gushing. “You’re so the best, A.”
Kaldur nods, “Thank you,” though the sentiment is nearly overshadowed by Superboy scoffing in annoyance and embarrassment.
“We totally did have it covered,” M’gann more reassures gently towards Superboy than argues. She offers a bright and kind smile at Alfred in the wake of her words that convey just the opposite of ingratitude.
Alfred shakes his head with a sigh. “Oh, come on. My spice cakes and earl grey are waiting, and they’re best warm.”
**
Today, I woke up next to my best friend after lots of drinking and the best sex I've ever had in my life. The only problem is we're both straight males. FML
*
Saturday morning finds Wally blinking away the sunlight filtering through his blinds. Thinking back to just how he spent his Friday night he realizes that, if he were normal, he would have a killer hangover. This leads him to feeling triumphant about his metabolism. He then discovers that he has this general feeling of being really thoroughly awesome and satisfied.
“Good morning sunshine,” Dick says pleasantly enough from where he’s lying next to him. “Guess what? We fucked.”
Wally groans as he rubs at his eyes. “Language,” he warns wearily. “It’s too early for that.”
“Hm.” Dick just hums, superficially pretty and coy, tapping patiently on the pillow, fingers beating a steady patter right by Wally’s ear.
That helps beat Dick’s words into his brain too; Wally wonders if Dick knows him well enough to be doing that on purpose. “Wait, what?” He stops rubbing his eyes to stare speechlessly at Dick. At Dick lying naked in his bed.
His best friend smiles demurely, still playing the role of shy and lovestruck morning-after-companion, then ruins it by using the tapping finger to poke Wally sharply in the side of the face. “Pay attention, I said we fucked. There’s the used condom in the trash to prove it. I can run home and get my batkit to test the DNA of the semen to see if it’s yours.”
Wally sits up slowly, blinking owlishly now at the fact that he’s naked too. Huh. “But you don’t actually have a batkit, especially now that you’ve taken up the Nightwing mantle…”
“It’s just a stupid inside joke me and Bruce have.” Dick corrects, a little pointedly, though he’s still pretty amused with the whole situation. “Anyway, so there’s a used condom and I’m pretty goddamn sore - ”
“Language,” Wally reminds him.
“Fuck you,” Dick says far too gleefully, so Wally gives up completely on discouraging him. “Actually, yeah, it seems like I did all the bottoming last night. Can we try that next time?”
Wally groans again and buries his face in his hands. He’s starting to remember the stupidest thing he did for the ten seconds he managed to get drunk by challenging Dick to vodka shots (there are specific, traditional ways you’re supposed to drink vodka for a reason, Wally’s realizing), and that was leaning over and kissing Dick in all his flushed, sloppy drunkenness. “Oh my god, why are you acting like this about us having a drunken fling?”
Dick scoffs, slightly derisive, and slips from under the covers before crawling across the bed and swinging a leg over Wally’s hip to straddle him. “Because,” he says, completely seriously. “Even though I was blitzed one hundred and twenty percent out of my mind last night - ”
“Vodka,” Wally interjects, voice awed and admiring. “You had so much vodka, and that shit doesn’t even taste moderately, like, good.”
“Language.” Dick shoots back at him sarcastically and, while rolling his eyes at his best friend, Wally belatedly realizes that, hey, Dick is straddling him. And he’s completely naked still and sculpted like the amazing acrobat he is.
His mouth goes just a little dry and he’s remembering, play-by-play now that he’s really waking up, why he’s so bone deep tired yet satisfied. Dick is an acrobat, and if there was ever any doubt, it was cleared up last night. “Whoa. Dick. You are basically infinitely jointed.”
“I know,” Dick says smugly, but it melts into that serious expression again. “No, but back to my point. Even though I was incredibly drunk, I know you weren’t for most of the night. And since I know I don’t have any complaints and since you made the first move, we can make this work.”
Only years of dealing with socially inept superheroes and Dick’s mannerisms allows Wally to decipher the deeper meaning to his initially callous words. “That is the shittiest ‘I love you’ I have ever heard,” Wally grumbles as Dick presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You take after Bats in the relationship department, huh?”
Dick laughs against his throat and Wally feels warmth spread under his skin. “You’ve known me since I was ten. You knew what you were getting into.”
And yes, he thinks as Dick pulls away long enough to slip under the sheets again, layered right on top of Wally, he did and that’s probably why he bothered in the first place.
**
Joker and Harley have a daughter who stalks and dangerous-pranks Robin.
*
“Ooooh,” Wally sing-songs, kind of obnoxiously. “Robin got flowers from a secret admirer. The card reads Mayzie Tino - your secret girlfriend?”
Robin carefully schools his face into a non-reaction as Wally waves the flower bouquet around crooning about romantic notions and whether Batman knows he has a girlfriend who knows his secret identity. He doesn’t even try to warn him, mainly because Wally won’t shut up long enough for anyone else to get a word in and partially because Robin’s a little sensitive over any teasing because of this weird phase Mayzie’s going through. So the instant the speedster brings the flowers close enough to his face, he’s gasping and flopping to the floor.
The knockout gas is light, amateurishly dusted among the petals (Robin knows this from experience, though she is getting better…), so he doesn’t worry at all over it. Wally comes back to consciousness in two seconds flat, screeching. “Okay, what the hell, who is Mayzie and why is she sending her love through deadly flowers?”
“They’re not deadly. Just a little dangerous sometimes.” Robin points out, giving him an underhandedly innocent smile. “Anyway yeah, guys? There’s this girl who’s borderline stalking me? So be more careful.”
“Idiot,” Artemis mutters at Wally, but her eyes are alert and sharply pointed at the Boy Wonder at the word ‘stalking’.
He waves his hand airily at her in response. “Don’t worry, this has been going on for a while. Since basically her eighth birthday. We talked to her parents about it, but…well, Batman thinks it’s funny, so.” He shrugs helplessly. He doesn’t share his mentor’s point of view on this particular matter.
“Wait,” Kaldur starts slowly, “So you are personally acquainted with this girl and her family, Batman is aware that she sends you flowers meant to incapacitate you, and yet you both allow it to…persist?”
Well when it’s put like that, Robin can’t do much else other than shrug again. “Eh, she mixes it up, it’s not always flowers. Sometimes she actually gets really clever about it. Anyway, Batman probably thinks it’s good practice to keep me on my toes, if he was pressed to give a less superficial reason.”
M’gann is hovering over Wally and wiping at his nose with a handkerchief, who is just soaking up the extra attention with glee, but she looks up with a tilted head. “I’m a little confused?”
“Eh,” Robin offers noncommittally with another hand wave.
Superboy, Robin’s noticed, has gone from warily tensed to just plain wary. “Do we need to, uh, take care this? Somehow?” He asks hesitantly.
Robin offers a gentle smile and a headshake, since Superboy often responds better to emotional responses. “Naw. Seriously, this is as normal as it gets in Gotham.”
-
“Did you get my gift?” Mayzie trills that night on patrol. She drags her fingers playfully along the strings of her lute, just lightly enough to give off the smallest twang of the enhanced sound waves and give Robin the very beginnings of a headache.
“Stop that,” he grumbles. “Where’s your dad?”
She shrugs and giggles, burying her chin into her burgundy cape. “Did you get my gift?” She repeats sweetly. Her fingers rest teasingly on the lute, though her hands are still, and he wonders briefly if he was this aggravating at the age of ten.
Robin sighs. “Yeah, it wasn’t a very good gift.”
She laughs and sticks her tongue out. “Sorry darlin’, I’ll try hardah.” The face Robin makes at her intended emphasis of her mother’s accent only serves to make her laugh harder.
He scowls. “Look, I’m seriously really busy right now, can we do this later?”
Mayzie grins wildly for a second longer, licking at the corner of her mouth. He scowls further, no nonsense, steely and serious, until she sighs and finally nods dutifully (if he has to hand out compliments where they are due, she’s a smart girl and compliant when it matters most).
She stands and balances carefully on the edge of the building as she redistributes her weight. He watches her carefully out the side of his sightline to keep track of her movements - it’s not very hard, her costume is bright white with a burgundy scarf tight around the waist, which Robin kind of suspects is her parents’ way of making it highly easy to keep an eye on her when she attempts to sneak off (which explains exactly why the Joker and Harley tend to pop up when she hangs around him and Batman for too long). But Mayzie doesn’t try another trick, just salutes playfully at him before clambering silently up and over the roof and off into the night.
“You know,” Robin mutters, because he knows Batman has been watching them, or at least listening in over the comm link. “I don’t think this is actually as funny as you’re making it out to be. You’re not exactly known for your sense of humor.”
Batman says nothing, but the radio silence has a hint of amusement to its static.