Jaythes1mp - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
pandas are not docile, they can display aggressive behavior, which is why they are very dangerous. Pandas take up more spatial memory than visual memory. and Grizzly bears have a bite force of over 1,200 PSI - enough to crush a bowling ball or iron frying pan
Geez.. All I do is learn things on this appš¦š¦
No but seriously though, thatās crazyyyy
Guess I should be glad that the only bears near me are koalas.
Your secrets are ours, kid
Yandere BatFam x Reader ā CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1
2048 words, 11528 characters, 130 sentences, 69 paragraphs, 8.4 pages.
With the absence of light and the sudden onslaught of heavy rain, you realise you've stayed out here for a dangerously long time.
You turn around to meet Dickās gaze, the man standing tall, holding you up an umbrella, wearing a soft grin. His bag, stuffed with clothing and trinkets that miraculously fit your size perfectly that were conveniently "free" from the fair, slung over his shoulder.
"Tired already, little one?" Dick queries, a hint of amusement in his deep voice as he extends his hand out towards you.
"You're going to catch a cold, you know," he noted with a tone of care in his voice. "We should go back before you get sick."
You let out a sigh, taking hold of his hand with a begrudging smile. "I am not tired, thank you very much," you retort, feigning irritation despite the exhaustion evident in your eyes.
With the grip of your hand, he gently pulls you close to him, sheltering you from the relentless rain. His eyes softened at your display of weariness, though he had a feeling you were just being stubborn.
"You don't have to deny it, you know. You look beat."
He chuckled lightly, wrapping his free arm around your waist, his hand resting comfortably on your hip as he guided you along.
āYou really should take better care of yourself,ā he added, his tone slightly concerned. āCan't have my little bird falling sick on me.ā
You raise an eyebrow at the nickname but opt not to mention it, well aware that his concern is the driving force behind the choice of words.
The soft pattering of rain filled the silence as you walked. The rain and chill caused you to press closer to him. He found himself drawing you further into him almost subconsciously ā seeking to protect you from the elements and the cold, as though the closer you were, the more shielded youād be from harm.
"Youāre freezing," he noted, feeling the coolness of your skin against his, frowning upon the slight tremble he felt.
āItās raining.ā You reply blankly, snickering softly.
He chuckled at your blasƩ response. "Ever the master of observation," he retorted, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance.
"You're also wearing a thin sweater in an icy downpour," he added, glancing down at your attire. "You're practically asking to get sick with that combination."
You raised a brow, nudging against his side. āIf I remember correctly, you were the one who chose this sweater.ā
He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "And I stand by my choice," he said, his voice dripping with teasing confidence.
"It looked cute," he explained with a slight shrug, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "The cute factor outweighs the obvious risk of hypothermia."
You shoot him an unimpressed glare. āFlattery isnāt going to get you anywhere, prick. Iām dying.ā
He feigned surprise, hand resting over his heart in mock offence.
"Flattery? Who said anything about flattery?" he retorted, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I merely stated a fact. That sweater is adorable."
He chuckled but his tone took a more serious turn, a hint of concern seeping in. "And you're hardly dying.. You're just a bit cold. You'll be fine."
Despite his casual tone, you could tell he was worried. He tugged you a little closer, as though his silent way of reassuring you.
"And if you do get sick, trust me, I'll nurse you back to health in no time," he added, his soft smirk returning.
You rolled your eyes, a smirk of your own forming. āOh, how romantic.ā You sarcastically comment.
He chuckled. "Hey, I have many talents," he shrugged, feigning offence. "One of which is being a damn good nurse."
You raised a brow at the comment, leaning back as you felt the rain splatter against your calves. āArenāt you supposed to be a professor?ā
"Assistant." He corrected, his smirk widened into a full-fledged grin. "And what makes you think I can't be both an assisting professor and a damn good nurse, hm?"
He shook his head, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he glanced down at you, the rain dampening your hair. "You look like a wet dog."
You shot him a glare, smacking him half-heartedly. āWell, whose fault is that? If you didnāt drag me out here, we wouldnāt be in the middle of an icy downpour!ā you retorted with a scoff.
"Oh, so now it's my fault that the sky decided to piss down today?" he teased, raising a brow.
You were just about to retort, but a loud crash draws your attention away. Both of you turn to see a woman stumble out of the bar, clearly intoxicated. She loses her footing and crashes into the nearby trash can, the loud clamour cutting through the pitter-patter of rain.
You snort, then step out from the umbrella and towards her, moving to check on the woman, but freeze mid-step as you catch a glimpse of her face. The moment you do, your shoulders inadvertently tense, muscles constricting tight instinctively.
Your heart rate spikes as recognition kicks in, and before your brain can fully register whatās happening, your body automatically reacts. You quickly take a step back, only to collide into the solid, unmoving form of the eldest Wayne brother ā who you realise, with a hint of surprise, had moved to shield you.
You whirl around, eyes widening in a mixture of panic and disbelief as you grasp the older manās sleeve. The words spill out of your mouth in a rushed, urgent plea.
āDickā" you start, voice breaking on the name, "get me out of here, please." Your knuckles turn white from how hard you're gripping his jacket. "Now- now."
He looks from you to the woman then back at you, his jaw tightening. As you grip his jacket tighter, an almost desperate look in your eyes, he nods silently and tugs you closer under the umbrella.
"Alright," he responds, his voice steady and comforting. "Alright. We're going."
You feel like you're drowning, lungs burning as they fail to take in air. The world blurs around you, nothing making sense. Your fingers involuntarily dig into his arm, hanging on desperately as if heās the only lifeline you have, the panic swelling inside you like a storm. You don't know whatās happening to you.
You're vaguely aware of him saying something, his voice a faint buzz in a sea of noise. But itās distant, too distant. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and every instinct is screaming to run, run, run.
Your entire body is tense, muscles coiled as if ready to pounce at any moment, the animalistic need for survival kicking in. But the world blurs around you ā colours bleeding into each other, sounds and shapes melding together, the only thing you are distinctly aware of is him. His presence, his solid figure, his anchoring grip on your body. Itās the only thing grounding you, stopping you from falling into the panic.
He says something again, his voice louder this time, but you can't make out the words. Your heart is thundering in your ears, the roar of the blood rushing through your veins drowning out everything else. He tries to pull you along, gently tugging you away from the woman, and your body follows obediently, feet moving without conscious thought.
As you let him guide you away, a part of you is distantly aware of the look the woman gives you. Itās a look that sends chills through your body ā a look that holds no recognition, only a cold, unnerving blankness in her eyes.
Your legs mechanically move one in front of the other, blindly following where he leads. Every step feels like a mile, the adrenaline still pumping, your heart still racing. The rain, previously a monotonous backdrop, now feels like a violent spray of needles against your skin.
āW-whats.. Whatās happening? Dickā Dick I canāt- I canāt breathe.ā
His jaw tightens further as he feels you stumbling against him, your words breaking out as panicked gasps. He glances down, seeing the sheer terror etched on your face.
"Hey," he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. "Hey, hey, look at me, look at me. It's okay. It's okay.ā
His hand goes to your cheek, gently cupping it, his thumb tracing over your skin in an attempt to soothe you.
āIām here, Iām here. Listen to me, just breathe, alright? Just breathe.ā His hand drops down to his pants pockets, shimmying out his phone.
He keeps his other hand on you, fingers gently rubbing at your cheek, grounding you as he taps the screen of his phone.
āYouāre okay,ā he repeats, eyes never leaving your face. āJust breathe for me. In and out, nice and slow.ā
You try to focus on his words, but itās difficult. Your mind is still racing, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. Youāre fighting against your own body, trying fruitlessly to force it to calm down and listen to him.
But your lungs burn as they struggle to draw in a full breath.
Time seems to move in a blur. Everything is a mass of sensations that you can barely register ā the cold rain that seeps through your clothing, the cold touch of Dickās hand against your skin.
You find yourself being ushered into a long, black vehicle, Dick gently guiding you into the back seat before sliding in beside you, shutting the door with a soft click.
He's never seen you like this before. He's seen you cry, seen you angry, seen you determined, but never, *never* has he seen you so terrified, like this. You're pale, your hands shaking, breath coming out in sharp gasps.
His heart aches as he sees you struggle for breath, fighting against your own body. As he sits beside you in the backseat of the car, he gently grabs your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing it gently. His other hand pulling you close and tucking you into his side.
He murmurs in a low soothing tone, āJust- just breathe. Just focus on my voice. You're safe. If I'd known she'd be there I never would've brought you here, I'm sorry, baby bird.. I'm so sorry.." He presses a kiss against your temple, his hold tightening around you.
Your body is trembling uncontrollably, the panic attack refusing to subside. His hand finds purchase on the back of your neck, fingers massaging the tense muscles there in an attempt to calm you down.
"You're safe. I've got you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're safe.."
Outside, the rain continues to fall, the sound of raindrops hitting the windowpane providing a strange background track to the situation. He keeps you tucked in against his side, his grip firm but gentle.
Dick's mind was on overdrive. His focus was solely fixated on you, comforting you and trying to bring you back from the brink of your panic attack. But underneath that, there was a simmering rage that threatened to boil over.
His mind went back to the woman ā your mother. She wasn't supposed to be here. Tim had promised to keep an eye on her. You were supposed to be safe here.
All that went out of the window the moment he saw you step out from under the umbrella, your body tense and eyes narrowed. He could see you were trying to hold it together, but the moment you realised who it was, everything in you shattered.
A flash of anger ignited in him knowing that the woman caused you so much pain, so much terror.
You were supposed to be safe. That was the whole point. He had given Tim the sole responsibility of keeping your mother at bay, to ensure you never saw her or heard from her again. And yet, here he was, watching you fight a panic attack brought upon by her unannounced presence.
He clenched his jaw, the anger towards her, towards himself, burning bright. You were his little sibling. His baby bird. He was supposed to protect you.
He clenched his jaw, eyes meeting the soft grey ones of Alfredās through the rearview mirror. His gaze murderous.
Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony @nickey-diano @sociallyakwardpanda @obsessedwithromance @thickerthanthievescomic @nckcn @xxrougefangxx @th0rn118 @gaozorous-rex-blog @lyl-3 @wtf-am-i-doing-with-my-life-help @snowy-violets @atsukogikoshi @eyeless-kun @soriansick @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @preciouslittlething
Masterlist
I have a headcanon that the reader raccoon! he only had any contact with anyone from Batfam when the readerraccoon! it was found in their trash and Alfred found it (so I made a drawing based on it)
How do you keep making these masterpieces pookie??šššš
Fr, every work of yours has been amazing!š
Masterlist
NO WAY YOUR HALF AUSSIE???? I feel so happy knowing one of my fav writers is Aussie and if you couldnt tell by now Im aussie asw which is why I was so excited. Also I absolutley loooooooove your writing
I am indeed! Aussies for the winš¦š¦š¦š¦
Thatās so sweet, thanks dude!š I was beginning to think that all of my readers were from America or the Philippinesš
We stand togetheršŖšŖšŖ
Masterlist
yan!Batfam x Ponyo!Reader!! šš©·ā¤ļø
On days like these Damien strolled around the shoreline. Patrolling the nearby warehouses, looking for any of the local villains henchmen bringing anything suspicious to them. But to his disappointment, nothing... to complete his disappointment, he hasn't been commed about anything crimes near his area.
Looking around the shore he scoffs picking up a broken bottle, "The least these criminals could do is throw their trash away..." Damien sneers as he threw it away. He can't believe it, he's so bored that he's cleaning the shoreline.... He's was a vigilante for Batman's sake! He grew up around blood and bodies!!
As he starts to clean the trash, he spots something moving and clinking around. Walking closer, it seems to be a fish! Huh... wait.... it's stuck in a jar! The closer he got, the more he saw. The fish is odd looking... quite human? Damien decides not to think further about it, he needs to help the fish. He crouches down and tries to get the fish out. As he does so he thinks, 'It looks like a goldfish... Who in their right mind dumps a goldfish in the sea, didn't they know they're freshwater??! They're also invasive and bad for the local marine life!' After struggling to get the fish out, he decided to break the jar. Picking up a near by rock, he hits the jar as hard as he could, while trying to not strike the fish.
Damien carelessly picked up the fish from the broken glass, accidentally cutting his gloves. As he was about to looks at his teared glove, he felt a sting. Dropping the fish quickly as fast he could, Damien looks down at his hand. A bite mark?! He's bleeding too, how? How could a fish bite down hard enough for him to bleed??
He read about some fish having teeth, but a goldfish having teeth? Impossible! As he ponders Damien looks down at the strange goldfish, 'Should I take it home to study it? To keep?' as he does that, his comm rings. He quickly looks at the fish then his comm. It was Alfred!
He quickly turns it on, "Hello Alfred..." a second to long for him, Alfred chimed "Hello young master Damien," without missing a beat, Damien asks "Is there anything you need?". "Yes, you have school tomorrow." said Alfred, 'Dammit,' Damien didn't even realize it's around that time! He quickly looks around and sees a plastic pail, he runs to grab it and quickly scoops up the fish with some water, and books it back to the batmobile.
Funnily enough, as he and Bruce rode into the Batcave, Bruce didn't notice the plastic pail. Damien quickly hid the bucket, and starts getting out of his costume. Just as quickly, he picks up the pail and runs back to his room. As he was up in the manor, Alfred asks, "What is in the pail, young master?" Damien froze as the question was asked. He didn't want to tell anyone about the strange goldfish, but this is Alfred asking! One cannot just keep a secret from Alfred. Reluctantly he said, "I found a strange fish while on patrol, it was stuck in a jar..." hopefully that was enough to satisfy Alfred. "Are you rehabilitating the fish, young master?" Alfred questioned again, "Yes, I am... I'm worried about it's fins, I had to break the jar after all." He(Alfred) nods, "As long as you go to bed after," he walks off, probably to treat any of his brothers who'd might've gotten hurt during patrol. "Goodnight young master." "Goodnight, Alfred..."
After their parting words, Damien goes up to his room and checks on the fish's fins. After a few minutes, there was no tear or any wounds on it. As about he was going to bed, Damien worries about the fish. The pail he currently has it in isn't an adequate enclosure. Unfortunately, that's tomorrow Damien's problem. As he closes his eyes, he thought he heard a child's voice calling his name...
(idk if Gotham is near water or somethin... but there now!!)
Ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo
Masterlist
Whenever you get the time could you please answer these scenarios, these are all separate and I just wanted to do them in one mini ask post.
How would the bat family react to pyramid head, silent hill nurse, and/or reaper nurse reader? These are all separate, if you like we could collaborate on some so you wonāt type all of this if you do want to do any of the following ideas. Good night/day/afternoon, sorry if I was bugging you, have a good one.
Alright, a few things to discuss.
One, I had NO CLUE that āsubmissionsā were a thing and nearly had an attack thinking that tumblr had updated their asks so that they werenāt boxes anymore, lmfao
Two, Iām actually really sorry to tell you this, pookie, but Iāve got no clue who these guys are. Iād a hundred percent do your ask if I knew though, since itās a different concept from the animal readers that weāre all pleasantly familiar with.
However, if you had any other ideas that Iām a little more familiar with, then Iād totally be down for a collab. I love writing with other people and seeing their perspectives on things. Plus we can improve on each other. Iād really be down to collaborating with anyone if we both agreed upon an idea.
And lastly, if I see anyone else in my inbox saying that theyāre ābothering meā for sending in an ask then you all honestly deserve crumbs in your bed. Youāre never bothering me for asking or talking to me about something. I appreciate all of you, even if I donāt end up seeing or answering you straight away.
Thank you for your ask, Iām really sorry that I wasnāt able to do this for youšš
Masterlist
HI!! HOW ARE YOU?! I HOPE YOU ARE WELL!!
Okay so this idea came to me when I was making breakfast but imagineā¦
Hybrid! Dog! Reader! Whose just a lazy or low energy dog like real lazy because a) itās in their nature and b) their just lazy. I imagine them as a French bulldog because sometimes they have energy and are like hey lemme just uh play around a bit and than nap or stare at you.
But one day the family or Bruce and D!ck (I feel like it would be those two) decides to take them to a dog park in disguise and at first Reader is scared cause their like omg the last time they did this they were taking me to the vet hell no! But they see that theyāre going in a different direction and theyāre like huh thatās suspicious thatās weird.
They arrive at the dog park and are encouraged to go run and play which at first their like no take me back home and starts to paw at them but the family wonāt budge so they approach the other dogs but than decided to sit in the corner.
A couple minutes later theyāre running around yapping happily sniffing other dogs and when itās time to go they have to be dragged home.
When they get home whoever didnāt go to the dog park are quite shocked that Reader has energy and also zoomies! Itās very cute and chaotic because while theyāre running they jump and kind of bark a bit saying I made a friend or friends!
Another scenario I have is Hybrid! Dog! Reader whoās a golden retriever so every time their near water they try to jump into its like a hassle even in the winter or like imagine them jumping into bodies of water in public even if they were told not to do it anymore.
Last scenario, Hybrid! Cat! Reader who accidentally discovers catnip how would the family react? š
I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY/ NIGHT/ EVENING!!!! š©·ā¤ļøš§”ššš©µššš¤š¤š©¶š¤
āļø anon
Lovely, as always, to see you in my inbox, āļøanon!
These are very cute scenarios!š It looks like your drabbles are for a domestic batfam rather than yan bats. Which Iām totally for, dude. Itās cute family life! I wish I thought of drabbles over breakie, haha
However on a slightly serious note, one of my family dogs was killed last Friday, so Iām not going to add onto your puppy fics too soon, Iām really sorry. I just donāt necessarily want to think too much about dogs right now. Theyāre really epic though!!
In relation to the cat nip, Iāve already made a small drabble on it here, if you wanna check it outš¦š¦
Though if you want more on it as an apology for not adding onto your puppy!reader ask, then Iāll go into more detail about it for you, just send me an ask, pookiešš
Masterlist
I fear that this is going in the list of things to make.
TW for talks of abuse, neglect, depression and su*cide
I fucking love the "platonic yandere batfam x neglected reader" but I wish there was more of it to explore.
Like where are the readers that are bitter yet burned out? The reader that knows that they're being forgotten about early on (maybe it's familiarā maybe their mom was terrible too) and doesn't push for the attention? They know that trying their best and worst won't get them the results they want so they just... fade in the background. No awards or straight Asā the reader strives for mediocrity and prays to dissappear as soon as they can and start over. They don't want anyone in this godforsaken family to ever give them a crumb of thought but eventually they do and any ounce of attention is hell.
Or what about the reader that hurts and hurts and hurts until they can't take it anymore and they attempt the unthinkable. Whether this reader wanted the batfam to be hurt by their death is up to interpretation but the results are the same. They were negligent sure but they never hated the readerā it's all so sudden that the spiral is damn near immediate. Wouldn't you do so too, afraid and guilty and grief striken that you're inaction could have killed someone that was supposed to be dear to you?
I think about it sometimes.
Shallow
Yandere Batfam x Merfolk Reader ā§romanticā£ļø
Aquaman, Aqualad, Mera, and any other underwater heroās and creatures donāt exist in this.
||-ā I tried to make each pov a different style of writing ||
There was something so captivatingly beautiful about observing the humans from below the surface, as they went about their daily lives, traversing the Metro-Narrows Bridge. The elders had always warned you to keep your distance from the world above, but you couldn't resist sneaking glances at the peculiar, moving metal boxes zooming across the streets, or the striking figures donning vibrant spandex who soared through the skies at night.
The bridge, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, cast an ethereal light across the water of the river. This sight, enhanced by the night, would always catch your attention, especially when they appeared. Moving in and out of the shadows, darting around or simply standing on the railing, lost in their own worlds.
You had grown fond of observing them as they soared through the night sky, reminiscent of the graceful movements of swans. Their elegance was effortless, seemingly defying gravity as they traversed the air. It was in those moments, watching the sky people glide past, that you were struck by the rawness of their beauty.
You never dared to come too close to the surface during the day, the haunting tales from your pod serving as a constant reminder of the horrors that existed above the water. But the night was a different story; itās when you were more willing to take risks. The darkness provided the perfect cover, shrouding you in obscurity as the humans slept.
Though you supposed that the real reason you continued to venture up to the surface was because it was the time that they emerged, gliding through the air and gracefully traversing the buildings. Their shadows, illuminated by the silvery light of the moon, seemed to dance in perfect harmony with the night. Always seeming to captivate your attention in a way that no underwater creatures could.
However, on this particular night, you noticed something out of the ordinary. One of the usually lively land creatures was sluggish and listless, moving with none of the fluid grace that you had come to admire. A deep crimson liquid seeped through the fabric of his suit, spattering across the spandex and staining it a dark, ominous hue.
You cautiously approached the surface, swimming closer than you had ever dared to before. Slowly, you emerged, peering just above the water's edge.
You couldnāt see the human clearly, obscured as he was by the sizable drop between the bridge and the water below, but the scent he carried was undeniable. There was something utterly alluring about his aroma. It was a stark contrast to the familiar scents of salt and oil you were used to underwater. You haven't come across anything even remotely similar to it before.
The land dweller was undeniably beautiful.
A loud crash shattered the silence, jolting your attention back to reality. Your gills flared out in alarm, and in your surprise, the soft bioluminescent glow of your tail dimmed down, a natural response to the potential threat.
You backed away, submerging yourself down into the safety that the depths of the water provided. Your gaze fixating on the figure in the distance, decorated in his familiarly vibrant red and yellow attire. This one hastily making his way to the blue-clad human's side, concern decorated across his face, his actions imbued with urgency. Mask torn from his face.
With a heavy sigh, you turned your back from the scene unfolding above, releasing a flurry of bubbles that rose to the surface. Your pods stern warnings echoing in your mind, a constant reminder of the dangers that lay in the world above.
You make it no more than fifteen feet before a thunderous splash shatters the silence, the seawaters ripples rolling across your skin and triggering an involuntary shiver, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your tail instinctively sprung into action, propelling you back with a rapid, powerful flick.
With a sudden movement, your arms encircled the man's sinking frame, securing a firm grip on his sides. Your eyes widening in shock at the contact, your webbed fingers digging into his flesh, anchoring him in place.
For a moment, you paused, studying him. Your eyes absorbing every little detail. From the man's soft, almost spongy flesh under your touch, how soft and almost squishy his land dwelling arms were, how they seemed to just give way to the touch of your webbed fingers. Then to the way the baby blue suit of his that clung to him, was torn and tattered, ripping away underwater. Your gaze lingering on the deep red liquid seeping out of his torso, staining his skin and leaving a trail of ominous scarlet. And then, your gaze travelled to the two bizarre, elongated limbs extending from his waist. A stark contrast to the streamlined grace of your own tail.
His lips parted, releasing a stream of bubbles, each one ascending to the surface before vanishing from sight. You watched as his body suddenly went limp in your arms, reminding you of the dire situation you had inadvertently involved yourself in. With a powerful flick of your tail, you swiftly propelled yourself to the surface, bringing him up so that he could breathe. Your gills flared out, working overtime to filter oxygen from the water while you waited, your hearts hammering in your chest.
When the human made no attempt to improve, limp and unresponsive, you couldn't suppress the deep hiss that escaped from the back of your throat. Your grip tightening around his frame, your tail coiled tighter around his legs, an attempt to stabilise and bring some form of response from him. Your eyes grew large in desperation as you shook him back and forth, each movement growing more frantic with the passing seconds.
You directed your attention to the deep red liquid that was oozing out of his abdomen, its thick, almost oily consistency spreading out in little waves around you in the water. Coming out in shallow pulses. You tilted your head slightly, noting that the fluid's flow didn't seem natural. It felt wrong, a gut feeling of sorts. You hastily reached for the pouch tethered to your hip, pulling out a woven bundle of seaweed and a salve prepared by the elders of your pod.
You delicately began to layer the salve over the gaping wound, taking care to press the woven seaweed into the lesion. The salve, a rich green and purple, had a cooling effect as it made contact with the human's skin. A crucial aspect due to its high iodine content, which helps to close the large gash. As the ointment came into contact with the blood, it began to congeal and bind the tissue together, halting the bleeding.
However, you were acutely aware of the human, who remained unresponsive. His chest, which should've been rising and falling with each inhale, lay still. A sudden panic clutched at your hearts, threatening to overwhelm you. You weren't sure what the proper human anatomy was, but it was abundantly clear that he needed to breathe.
You placed a webbed hand on his chest, the flesh there surprisingly firm. You pushed down, then up again, attempting to mimic the breathing motions you had seen him and others do. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pleaded for him to respond, a silent mantra running through your head. With urgency, you placed a firm grip on the back of his neck, tilting his head back, the gills on your neck flaring out to pull in as much oxygen as they could. Your tail coiling tightly around his waist to keep him afloat.
Despite the pressure you exerted, there was no response from him. His chest remained still, no signs of life. Your breath hitched at the sight, a sense of desperate desperation washing over you. You were frantically trying to keep his head tilted back while the water was washing over his face, the cool liquid creating small ripples that mirrored the urgency of the moment. His body remained motionless, unresponsive to your frantic attempts. You could feel the pressure building in your own chest, your gills working overtime to extract oxygen.
In a final, desperate attempt, you lean in closer, positioning yourself to allow your webbed fingers to forcibly pry open his parted lips. You took in a deep breath and expelled it through the opening, pushing every ounce of air you could manage into his unresponsive lungs.
You repeated the action multiple times, exerting every ounce of effort to force air into his trachea. Each breath, heavy and laboured. You finally pulled back, allowing yourself a moment of respite. Your breaths came out ragged and sharp, a stark contrast to the steady, undisturbed water around you.
As he remains unresponsive, his body frighteningly limp, your body goes slack, a wave of disappointment washing over you. Reluctantly, you release your grip on him and let him go, his body now floating eerily close to yours. You close your eyes tight, trying to swallow the lump in your throat that was rapidly forming.
You flinch at the sudden and unexpected contact, your eyes fluttering open. An alarmed hiss escaped once again through your lips, more out of surprise than anything else. Just as you were about to submerge yourself underwater, a firm hand grasped your shoulder, its grip strong and unwavering.
"Y-you're...alive.", you stuttered out, a mixture of disbelief and awe laced in your raspy voice. The hand on your shoulder felt firm and real, a stark contrast to the nightmarish scenario you had just been a part of.
āNightwing?ā Red Robin's voice cuts through the quiet night, bouncing off the empty alleyways. Frustrated, he takes off his comms, readjusting them to try again for the sixth time in the last ten minutes.
"Dick, come in," he practically growls out, tapping on his device with a little more force than necessary.
āWhere the hell are you?ā he mutters, staring up at the tall buildings. Dickās always late, but this was getting ridiculous. With a sigh, he leans back against the wall, crossing his arms as he waits.
A low, familiar voice crackles on the other end of the comms. āStalker.ā
Tim rolls his eyes, recognising the voice immediately. It was too late in the night to put up with him. āJason.ā he sighs, āWhat do you want. Have you heard from Dick?ā
āNot a word.ā The response is curt, and the annoyance in Jasonās voice is obvious. He rarely joined in their patrols, preferring to stick to his own methods of dealing with things.
Tim lets out a frustrated huff, tapping his fingers impatiently against his arm. Of course Dick would pick now to go radio silent.
He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment to let out a frustrated groan. He was stressed enough as it is, none of this was helping.
āYouāre patrolling the Narrows?ā Jasonās voice breaks through Timās thoughts, pulling him back to reality. He looks around, taking in the surroundings with a frown. The Narrows was never a good place to be alone.
āYeah.ā he responds, not taking his eyes off of the shadows. āIām sure youāll be happy to know, Dickās nowhere to be seen. In or out of uniform.ā
Thereās a pause on the other end, and Tim can practically hear the smirk in Jasonās voice.
āNeed backup?ā he offers, amusement clear in his tone. The elder boy mocking him.
Tim scowls, shaking his head even if he knew Jason couldnāt see him. āNo.ā he replies curtly. āIām not a child, I can handle this myself.ā
āSure, kid.ā Jasonās response is just as dismissive. āIāll come check on you in a bit anyway. Make sure you havenāt gotten your ass kicked.ā
Timās scowl deepens at Jasonās reply, not appreciating the offer of help ā or the nickname. āI donāt need a babysitter.ā he grumbles. āIām going to find Dick, and I donāt need your help.ā
Thereās a pause, and Tim can practically hear the eye roll from Jason. āWhatever you say, Replacement. Iāll be there soon.ā
āNoāā Before Tim can protest, the comms go silent. Damn it, Jason.
He lets out a frustrated sigh, biting at the inside of his cheek. The last person he needed to see right now was Jason. The last time heād come face to face with the man, things didnāt go so well.
Tim grits his teeth and pushes himself off of the wall. He had better things to do than get into a fight with his older brother. Like finding his other older brother.
With a huff, Tim starts walking, making his way through the narrow alleys of the Narrows. Itās quiet, eerily so, and his instincts are on high alert.
Everything feels off. The air is still, and he canāt shake the feeling of being watched. His breath stutters in his chest, but he pushes the feeling down. He had work to do.
āDick?ā he calls out, his headsetās blinking green light signalling the message going through. He glances around cautiously as he moves. āNightwing, come in. Can you hear me?ā
Thereās no response, and Tim tries again. Nothing but static. His shoulders tense, the unease growing in the pit of his stomach. This wasnāt like Dick. The man was always on top of communication.
Tim continues forward, his footsteps quick and light. He keeps his eyes scanning the shadows around him, but the silence is deafening. Where the hell is he?
A muffled crunch breaks the silence, and the boy freezes, his breath hitching. It was faint, coming from somewhere off the alley in front of him. His heart rate quickens, and he carefully shifts on his feet, trying to pinpoint the source.
There was something across the street. Someone.
Tim squints, his eyes trying to make out what it was. It was too dark to tell. Damn it, why canāt Dick be here to deal with this..
Heās too used to working in a team, having the security of someone else there to watch his back. The someoneās in question usually being Batman or Nightwing.
He steels himself, slipping into a fighting stance and taking slow steps forward. He canāt let his guard down, not now.
As he moves, the shape across the street shifts. Itās still far away, but from the size and height, he could tell it was definitely a figure.
His comms device beeps, startling the boy and nearly causing him to stumble. He quickly scrabbles to check it, hoping for some sort of answer or communication.
āRed.ā Jasonās voice comes through, static breaking up some of the message. The device was clearly reaching a limit. āCan you hear me? Dickās in trouble.ā The voice, as crackling as it was over the broken comms, sounded dishevelled and panted. Jason rarely called for help.
With a final glance at the figure across the street, Timās eyes flicker back down to the comms in his hand. Jason found him.
āWhere are you?ā he asks, not wasting a second as he sets off at a sprint. He didnāt care what kind of trouble Nightwing had gotten into, he just needed to get there.
āDonāt worry about me. Get to Metro-Narrows Bridge.ā
The urgency in Jasonās voice has Timās heartbeat racing. He doesnāt question it, just continues sprinting. He knew the bridge, and knew it was far.
ā...ā he grits his teeth. āIām on my way.ā
Tim hits the wall with a pained gasp, eyes squeezed shut as he doubles over coughing at the impact. His vision swims. Shit.
He lets out a sharp gasp, the breath knocked out of him as heās smashed against the hard bricks. The pain doesnāt have time to register, as his mind is sent into a panicked frenzy.
He sucks in a low breath, trying to clear his head and figure out what the hell just happened. Thereās a shuffle of feet, and the distinct sound of metal being unsheathed.
The attack was too precise, too sudden. He grunts, trying to push himself back away from the wall, but a large hand keeps him pinned.
His head finally stops swirling, and he can focus on the large figure in front of him. Not good.
Heās a towering wall of a man, arms bigger than Timās head. Heās muscular, clearly built like a brawler. The metal that had unsheathed was a knife, the sharp, gleaming blade being held firmly in the manās large hand.
āNo more running.ā the man growls, his other hand still keeping Tim pinned against the wall.
Tim glared up at him.
Heās been in situations similar to this before. Heās fought and won against opponents bigger than him, more experienced than him. He needed to stay calm, and assess the situation.
With a pained grunt, he pushes against the manās arm, struggling to break free. The man just leans closer, his breath hot in Timās face.
The smell of smoke and old alcohol fills Timās nose, making him want to retch as the man sneers at him. āStruggle all you want, kid.ā he drawls. āYouāre coming with me one way or another..ā Tim clenches his jaw.
He analyses the situation quickly. His equipment was in his belt, but pinned tight against the wall left him with very little mobility. He had to find a way to get away swiftly, before the man could do him any serious harm.
Timās mind races, trying to work out a way to get himself out of this. Heās too close quarters to the man, and any attempt to get away would lead to him getting a knife in his gut.
The manās grip tightens, making him gasp as the knife is held closer to his skin. His eyes darted around, searching for anything useful. He would have to time this right. āStop squirmin.āā The manās gruff voice rang out.
Tim ignores him, grunting as he struggles against the hand pinning him. There had to be something he could use toā
A gleam of something metal catches his eye, and he glances down, spotting a metal pipe sticking out of an open garbage bin. It wasnāt much, but it might be enough.
Tim takes in a shallow breath, his mind racing for a second. āWhy are you doing this?ā he asks, trying to keep the man talking and distracted.
āDonāt try any shit, sidekick.ā He tightened his hold on the boy, using his other hand to get out a walkie-talkie from the pouch on his chest.
Sidekick? Timās teeth gritted, a spark of anger flaring up in the back of his mind. He wasnāt just a sidekick.
Timās eyes glance down again at the pipe, trying to calculate his next move. He watched as the man brought the walkie-talkie up to his mouth, his heart rate increasing as he prepared to act.
āI got a bird out here,ā the man grunted into the device, keeping his eyes fixed on Tim. āFound him in the-ā
He barely had time to react before Tim acted. With a sudden burst of strength, he jerks forward, wrenching himself free from the manās grip. He immediately drops down, grabbing the metal pipe and brandishing it like a weapon. Flinging it into the manās hand that held the radio. The impact caused him to drop it, as he let out a cry of pain, stumbling back.
Tim didnāt hesitate. He quickly used the momentary opening of shock and pain to his advantage, striking the man hard in the stomach with the pipe. The man grunted, his hand instinctively going to where heād been hit.
He wasnāt about to give the thug any time to recover. He brought up a leg and kicked out fast, nailing him hard in the knee. The man yelled out again, staggering back.
He raged, stumbling forward and landing one hard punch against Timās face.
The younger boyās head snapped to the side from the hit, the force of it knocking his mask askew, cracking and splitting as he reeled back. His vision swims from the impact, but he can taste the distinct taste of blood in his mouth.
He stumbled back, bringing a hand up to his face and cursing, blood seeping down his face.
His head hurt. A lot. That one hit had left him dizzy, and his cheek stung like hell.
The pain is enough to clear his mind though, and he refocuses on the man in front of him. His lip is split, and his cheek feels like itās on fire. His mask hangs half off of his face.
Tim grits his teeth, glaring at the man with a new found fire in his eyes. He wasnāt going to let some random thug take him out.
The perpetrator lets out a huff, spitting out a glob of blood onto the floor next to him. An ugly sneer plastered his face, and he stepped forward, reaching down for the knife that had been discarded on the ground. āYou little shit.ā he spat. āIāll make you pay for that.ā
His eyes flickered down to the knife held flimsily in his hand. He needed to get out of this. The man was bigger and definitely stronger, but obviously nowhere near as experienced as Tim was. Heās surprised that the thug had even managed to get in a decent hit to his face.
His mind is too preoccupied, caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts, and he fails to notice the manās approach until the moment he's already upon him. The thug's fury makes him careless and ill-prepared, the sound of his stumbling footsteps betraying his presence due to the injury on his knee.
Tim quickly raises his arm instinctively, attempting to shield himself as the manās towering frame comes charging at him. Heās tackled to the ground in a single swift move, the impact crushing his ribs against the concrete floor.
His back hits the ground, the air getting knocked out of him for the second time that night. The manās weight pinned him to the ground, the air leaving his lungs in a loud gasp as he struggled.
The man had the knife clutched in his hand, the gleam of the blade reflecting the lights of the city as it was raised up, aimed to strike.
Drake nearly sneered at the sight. Heās an amateur. Over confident in himself and relying solely on force.
Timās eyes darkened, his glare locked on the man above him. He was not going to be defeated by some two-bit mugger.
He kicked out at the man, aiming for his still injured knee. The man grunted as he took the kick, shifting off balance for just a second.
It was enough of an opening for Tim to react. He pushed up on the man, using the momentum to roll them both over, switching their positions and taking the top. He wasted no time in smashing the manās head against the ground, knocking him out stone cold. Blood pooling down against the pavement.
He paused, breathing heavily as he stared down at the man. His lip stung as blood still trickled down his face, the adrenaline in his system beginning to wear off.
Tim sat there for a moment, letting out a hiss of pain as he lifted a hand and gently touched his split lip. He gingerly moved his fingers through his hair, grimacing as he felt the beginnings of a bruise on the side of his face.
Dick was still in trouble. That was the thought at the front of his mind, the reason he was out here and why he had to get to that bridge.
With a wince, Tim pushed himself up, staggering for a moment as a wave of nausea passed over him. He was pretty sure heād developed a minor concussion from being thrown into the wall.
Everything ached, and his body was screaming at him to just stay down. He ignored it. Nightwing was his priority.
He swayed for a moment, his vision going white around the edges as his head spun, before he managed to stay standing and start moving again.
He didnāt think, he just ran.
Heās still panting as his feet hit the concrete, his body protesting the movement. The nausea from his concussion was becoming very real, and he had to stop to take a deep breath to steady himself.
Fuck, he was going to throw up, wasnāt he?
Tim bit his tongue and started running again, forcing himself to push on and ignore the pain. He had to keep moving.
The cold, night air hurt his lungs, but he didnāt stop. Not even as the pain from the beating began to make itself known with each hard footstep against the concrete. He had to get to the bridge.
He kept going at a brutal pace, ignoring how his vision swam and how every breath he took just made him feel like he needed to puke.
Heās not sure how long he had ran, his mind focused entirely on just moving. One foot in front of the other, he just kept going.
As he rounded the corner, he noticed the bridge in the distance. His eyes widening, watching Dick stagger back against the railings edge.
Tim stumbled for a moment, but pushed himself back up, keeping himself moving forward. He could barely see straight, but nothing else mattered. Nightwingās tall and dark silhouette was leant against the night light of the bridge. Even from a distance, he could see the blood on Dicks skin, staining the side of his face, his suitās front ripped open, a large gash in his abdomen pooling out onto the ground.
Timās speed quickens, every muscle in his body crying in protest but he continues on. All he could focus on was the sight of Nightwing. In the low light, he could see Dickās shoulders moving with each heavy breath, looking seconds away from collapsing.
In a desperate attempt to save his mentor, Tim lunges forward and grabs onto Dick's arm. However, the fabric of the torn and damaged suit simply tears further under the force, causing Dick to slip free from Tim's grasp and fall into the dark, ominous water below.
"NOā!" The cry escapes Tim's mouth in a choked rush, the sound filled with anguish and fear. With a desperate burst of energy, he lunges forward, his hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to cling to Dick's suit, to anything that would keep him from falling.
But it was too late. He was too late.
His heart hammers frantically against his chest as he gazes down into the dark depths below, his eyes wide and searching desperately for even a glimpse of Dick in the river's deep murky water.
His breath hitches, a silent sob wracking his frame as he slumps over the edge of the bridge, his hands shaking as he brings them up to his face. His blood-slick fingers thread through his hair, his eyes wide as they stay fixed on the dark water where Dick had fallen.
The sound of a vehicle approaching in the distance catches his ears, but he doesn't acknowledge it. He doesn't turn to see who it is or check to see if it's a threat. He just keeps staring down into the water, the sound of the river below the only thing he can hear over his panicked breathing.
Jason came to a crashing halt at the side of the bridge, the panicked urgency in his voice clear. He stumbled off his bike, nearly falling as he yelled out.
"Where is he--ā His hollow eyes darted around at their surroundings. "WHERE IS HE?!"
Dick.
Tim's eyes widened as Nightwing's head broke the surface of the water, his body floating limp against the current. He's alive.
His shoulders tense as he quickly scrambles to his feet, his body protesting in pain with each movement.
The relief he feels is quickly drowned out, however, as he notices the large bioluminescent tail wrapped around his older brother's lower half, keeping him from crashing with the harsh currents.Ā
Jason quickly approached the bridges railing, his heavy boots thudding loudly against the concrete, his heart racing thunderously against his chest, deep sapphire eyes following Tim's wide gaze down into the water. As he saw the sight in front of him, his eyes widened in disbelief.
He gripped the rough stone ledge, leaning over to get a better look at his brother. "What the fuck is that?" The older boys voice cuts through the ringing in Drake's ears.
Tim couldn't respond, his eyes glued on the large tail, his jaw slack. He took in the sight of the long powerful appendage wrapped around his brother's waist. It was beautiful. The long black scales seemed to glow a soft purple even in the dim moonās light, as if the creature attached was glowing itself. The bioluminescence was something that one could only describe as ethereal.
Tim's heart raced as he took a step closer to the edge of the bridge, his eyes darting around, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. He couldn't believe his eyes. Neither of them could.
Tim's mind reeled, trying to comprehend what they were seeing. His heart was pounding, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to process the situation. He knew that he should be scared. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt heavy and thick as he finally managed to speak, his voice low and shaky. "I..I don't know." He croaked.Ā
A ragged breath escaped his lips as the sea creature met his gaze.
He was frozen as he locked eyes with the creature. His mouth went dry, everything around him seemed to disappear into the background. The only thing he could focus on was the deep piercing eyes peering up from the darkness of the river.
Everything about the creature was attractive ā its long shimmering scales, bioluminescent glow, and even the large dorsal fin along its spine.
The flutter of the creature's gills when its eyes met theirs didnāt go unnoticed by the brothers. Jason's lips parted into as much of a smirk as it could given the situation.
The Mer's features slowly disappeared under the surface, as it made a sudden exit. Both of the boys' eyes flicked towards the water, but the sudden gasping from their elder brother drew their attention away once more.Ā
Dick was struggling, coughing up water as he attempted to pull himself up and out of the water. His large hand was grasping desperately to the creature's shoulder, as he pulled himself up.
Tim's heart leapt into his throat as he watched Dick gasping for air, his body shivering as he struggled to grapple himself out of the water. He was so focused on his older brother's struggles that he almost missed the flicker of glowing purple as the creatureās tail disappeared beneath the surface of the water.
Tim moved forward to help Dick, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Jason with a grimace on his face.
"What are we going to do?" Tim asked, his voice filled with worry.
Their conversation was cut short, however, as Dick's coughing subsided, replaced by a strangled gasp for air, his eyes wide and frantic.Ā
"I'm fine," he rasped, his hands trembling as he tried to pull himself up onto the bridge, his body shaking violently. His sharp ocean eyes focused on the crushed seaweed-looking salve used to treat his wounds.
Tim was about to respond when they heard a shuffling from the water, the faint sound of something scratching against the concrete. Tim's gaze snapped down to the water, his heart starting to pound against his chest.
Jason had already stepped back and drawn his weapon, his eyes fixed on a spot in the water a few feet below them. The sound of sloshing water echoed around them again, the dim light from the moon making it difficult to see anything except the faint bioluminescence.
And then, you were gone.
This is the result of the poll -> link.
Donāt judge my random fighting scene with Tim I was trying something outš¦š¦
All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged!
I rewrote everything, so I apologise that this took so long to come outš
HELLOOO
I absolutely love your writing, so I was wondering if you had a taglist? I really don't want to miss anything
Hey! Youāre so cute??? Thank youšš
I do in fact have many taglists. There are separate lists for each of my ongoing works (Shallow, YSAOK, Here Kitty), where all you have to do is comment on any of the chapters, or thereās an everything taglist where Iāll tag you in all future fics that I create. For that one you just need to drop a comment on my Masterlist.
Shallow
Yandere Batfam x Merfolk Reader ā§romanticā£ļø
Aquaman, Aqualad, Mera, and any other underwater heroās and creatures donāt exist in this.
||-ā I tried to make each pov a different style of writing ||
There was something so captivatingly beautiful about observing the humans from below the surface, as they went about their daily lives, traversing the Metro-Narrows Bridge. The elders had always warned you to keep your distance from the world above, but you couldn't resist sneaking glances at the peculiar, moving metal boxes zooming across the streets, or the striking figures donning vibrant spandex who soared through the skies at night.
The bridge, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, cast an ethereal light across the water of the river. This sight, enhanced by the night, would always catch your attention, especially when they appeared. Moving in and out of the shadows, darting around or simply standing on the railing, lost in their own worlds.
You had grown fond of observing them as they soared through the night sky, reminiscent of the graceful movements of swans. Their elegance was effortless, seemingly defying gravity as they traversed the air. It was in those moments, watching the sky people glide past, that you were struck by the rawness of their beauty.
You never dared to come too close to the surface during the day, the haunting tales from your pod serving as a constant reminder of the horrors that existed above the water. But the night was a different story; itās when you were more willing to take risks. The darkness provided the perfect cover, shrouding you in obscurity as the humans slept.
Though you supposed that the real reason you continued to venture up to the surface was because it was the time that they emerged, gliding through the air and gracefully traversing the buildings. Their shadows, illuminated by the silvery light of the moon, seemed to dance in perfect harmony with the night. Always seeming to captivate your attention in a way that no underwater creatures could.
However, on this particular night, you noticed something out of the ordinary. One of the usually lively land creatures was sluggish and listless, moving with none of the fluid grace that you had come to admire. A deep crimson liquid seeped through the fabric of his suit, spattering across the spandex and staining it a dark, ominous hue.
You cautiously approached the surface, swimming closer than you had ever dared to before. Slowly, you emerged, peering just above the water's edge.
You couldnāt see the human clearly, obscured as he was by the sizable drop between the bridge and the water below, but the scent he carried was undeniable. There was something utterly alluring about his aroma. It was a stark contrast to the familiar scents of salt and oil you were used to underwater. You haven't come across anything even remotely similar to it before.
The land dweller was undeniably beautiful.
A loud crash shattered the silence, jolting your attention back to reality. Your gills flared out in alarm, and in your surprise, the soft bioluminescent glow of your tail dimmed down, a natural response to the potential threat.
You backed away, submerging yourself down into the safety that the depths of the water provided. Your gaze fixating on the figure in the distance, decorated in his familiarly vibrant red and yellow attire. This one hastily making his way to the blue-clad human's side, concern decorated across his face, his actions imbued with urgency. Mask torn from his face.
With a heavy sigh, you turned your back from the scene unfolding above, releasing a flurry of bubbles that rose to the surface. Your pods stern warnings echoing in your mind, a constant reminder of the dangers that lay in the world above.
You make it no more than fifteen feet before a thunderous splash shatters the silence, the seawaters ripples rolling across your skin and triggering an involuntary shiver, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your tail instinctively sprung into action, propelling you back with a rapid, powerful flick.
With a sudden movement, your arms encircled the man's sinking frame, securing a firm grip on his sides. Your eyes widening in shock at the contact, your webbed fingers digging into his flesh, anchoring him in place.
For a moment, you paused, studying him. Your eyes absorbing every little detail. From the man's soft, almost spongy flesh under your touch, how soft and almost squishy his land dwelling arms were, how they seemed to just give way to the touch of your webbed fingers. Then to the way the baby blue suit of his that clung to him, was torn and tattered, ripping away underwater. Your gaze lingering on the deep red liquid seeping out of his torso, staining his skin and leaving a trail of ominous scarlet. And then, your gaze travelled to the two bizarre, elongated limbs extending from his waist. A stark contrast to the streamlined grace of your own tail.
His lips parted, releasing a stream of bubbles, each one ascending to the surface before vanishing from sight. You watched as his body suddenly went limp in your arms, reminding you of the dire situation you had inadvertently involved yourself in. With a powerful flick of your tail, you swiftly propelled yourself to the surface, bringing him up so that he could breathe. Your gills flared out, working overtime to filter oxygen from the water while you waited, your hearts hammering in your chest.
When the human made no attempt to improve, limp and unresponsive, you couldn't suppress the deep hiss that escaped from the back of your throat. Your grip tightening around his frame, your tail coiled tighter around his legs, an attempt to stabilise and bring some form of response from him. Your eyes grew large in desperation as you shook him back and forth, each movement growing more frantic with the passing seconds.
You directed your attention to the deep red liquid that was oozing out of his abdomen, its thick, almost oily consistency spreading out in little waves around you in the water. Coming out in shallow pulses. You tilted your head slightly, noting that the fluid's flow didn't seem natural. It felt wrong, a gut feeling of sorts. You hastily reached for the pouch tethered to your hip, pulling out a woven bundle of seaweed and a salve prepared by the elders of your pod.
You delicately began to layer the salve over the gaping wound, taking care to press the woven seaweed into the lesion. The salve, a rich green and purple, had a cooling effect as it made contact with the human's skin. A crucial aspect due to its high iodine content, which helps to close the large gash. As the ointment came into contact with the blood, it began to congeal and bind the tissue together, halting the bleeding.
However, you were acutely aware of the human, who remained unresponsive. His chest, which should've been rising and falling with each inhale, lay still. A sudden panic clutched at your hearts, threatening to overwhelm you. You weren't sure what the proper human anatomy was, but it was abundantly clear that he needed to breathe.
You placed a webbed hand on his chest, the flesh there surprisingly firm. You pushed down, then up again, attempting to mimic the breathing motions you had seen him and others do. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pleaded for him to respond, a silent mantra running through your head. With urgency, you placed a firm grip on the back of his neck, tilting his head back, the gills on your neck flaring out to pull in as much oxygen as they could. Your tail coiling tightly around his waist to keep him afloat.
Despite the pressure you exerted, there was no response from him. His chest remained still, no signs of life. Your breath hitched at the sight, a sense of desperate desperation washing over you. You were frantically trying to keep his head tilted back while the water was washing over his face, the cool liquid creating small ripples that mirrored the urgency of the moment. His body remained motionless, unresponsive to your frantic attempts. You could feel the pressure building in your own chest, your gills working overtime to extract oxygen.
In a final, desperate attempt, you lean in closer, positioning yourself to allow your webbed fingers to forcibly pry open his parted lips. You took in a deep breath and expelled it through the opening, pushing every ounce of air you could manage into his unresponsive lungs.
You repeated the action multiple times, exerting every ounce of effort to force air into his trachea. Each breath, heavy and laboured. You finally pulled back, allowing yourself a moment of respite. Your breaths came out ragged and sharp, a stark contrast to the steady, undisturbed water around you.
As he remains unresponsive, his body frighteningly limp, your body goes slack, a wave of disappointment washing over you. Reluctantly, you release your grip on him and let him go, his body now floating eerily close to yours. You close your eyes tight, trying to swallow the lump in your throat that was rapidly forming.
You flinch at the sudden and unexpected contact, your eyes fluttering open. An alarmed hiss escaped once again through your lips, more out of surprise than anything else. Just as you were about to submerge yourself underwater, a firm hand grasped your shoulder, its grip strong and unwavering.
"Y-you're...alive.", you stuttered out, a mixture of disbelief and awe laced in your raspy voice. The hand on your shoulder felt firm and real, a stark contrast to the nightmarish scenario you had just been a part of.
āNightwing?ā Red Robin's voice cuts through the quiet night, bouncing off the empty alleyways. Frustrated, he takes off his comms, readjusting them to try again for the sixth time in the last ten minutes.
"Dick, come in," he practically growls out, tapping on his device with a little more force than necessary.
āWhere the hell are you?ā he mutters, staring up at the tall buildings. Dickās always late, but this was getting ridiculous. With a sigh, he leans back against the wall, crossing his arms as he waits.
A low, familiar voice crackles on the other end of the comms. āStalker.ā
Tim rolls his eyes, recognising the voice immediately. It was too late in the night to put up with him. āJason.ā he sighs, āWhat do you want. Have you heard from Dick?ā
āNot a word.ā The response is curt, and the annoyance in Jasonās voice is obvious. He rarely joined in their patrols, preferring to stick to his own methods of dealing with things.
Tim lets out a frustrated huff, tapping his fingers impatiently against his arm. Of course Dick would pick now to go radio silent.
He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment to let out a frustrated groan. He was stressed enough as it is, none of this was helping.
āYouāre patrolling the Narrows?ā Jasonās voice breaks through Timās thoughts, pulling him back to reality. He looks around, taking in the surroundings with a frown. The Narrows was never a good place to be alone.
āYeah.ā he responds, not taking his eyes off of the shadows. āIām sure youāll be happy to know, Dickās nowhere to be seen. In or out of uniform.ā
Thereās a pause on the other end, and Tim can practically hear the smirk in Jasonās voice.
āNeed backup?ā he offers, amusement clear in his tone. The elder boy mocking him.
Tim scowls, shaking his head even if he knew Jason couldnāt see him. āNo.ā he replies curtly. āIām not a child, I can handle this myself.ā
āSure, kid.ā Jasonās response is just as dismissive. āIāll come check on you in a bit anyway. Make sure you havenāt gotten your ass kicked.ā
Timās scowl deepens at Jasonās reply, not appreciating the offer of help ā or the nickname. āI donāt need a babysitter.ā he grumbles. āIām going to find Dick, and I donāt need your help.ā
Thereās a pause, and Tim can practically hear the eye roll from Jason. āWhatever you say, Replacement. Iāll be there soon.ā
āNoāā Before Tim can protest, the comms go silent. Damn it, Jason.
He lets out a frustrated sigh, biting at the inside of his cheek. The last person he needed to see right now was Jason. The last time heād come face to face with the man, things didnāt go so well.
Tim grits his teeth and pushes himself off of the wall. He had better things to do than get into a fight with his older brother. Like finding his other older brother.
With a huff, Tim starts walking, making his way through the narrow alleys of the Narrows. Itās quiet, eerily so, and his instincts are on high alert.
Everything feels off. The air is still, and he canāt shake the feeling of being watched. His breath stutters in his chest, but he pushes the feeling down. He had work to do.
āDick?ā he calls out, his headsetās blinking green light signalling the message going through. He glances around cautiously as he moves. āNightwing, come in. Can you hear me?ā
Thereās no response, and Tim tries again. Nothing but static. His shoulders tense, the unease growing in the pit of his stomach. This wasnāt like Dick. The man was always on top of communication.
Tim continues forward, his footsteps quick and light. He keeps his eyes scanning the shadows around him, but the silence is deafening. Where the hell is he?
A muffled crunch breaks the silence, and the boy freezes, his breath hitching. It was faint, coming from somewhere off the alley in front of him. His heart rate quickens, and he carefully shifts on his feet, trying to pinpoint the source.
There was something across the street. Someone.
Tim squints, his eyes trying to make out what it was. It was too dark to tell. Damn it, why canāt Dick be here to deal with this..
Heās too used to working in a team, having the security of someone else there to watch his back. The someoneās in question usually being Batman or Nightwing.
He steels himself, slipping into a fighting stance and taking slow steps forward. He canāt let his guard down, not now.
As he moves, the shape across the street shifts. Itās still far away, but from the size and height, he could tell it was definitely a figure.
His comms device beeps, startling the boy and nearly causing him to stumble. He quickly scrabbles to check it, hoping for some sort of answer or communication.
āRed.ā Jasonās voice comes through, static breaking up some of the message. The device was clearly reaching a limit. āCan you hear me? Dickās in trouble.ā The voice, as crackling as it was over the broken comms, sounded dishevelled and panted. Jason rarely called for help.
With a final glance at the figure across the street, Timās eyes flicker back down to the comms in his hand. Jason found him.
āWhere are you?ā he asks, not wasting a second as he sets off at a sprint. He didnāt care what kind of trouble Nightwing had gotten into, he just needed to get there.
āDonāt worry about me. Get to Metro-Narrows Bridge.ā
The urgency in Jasonās voice has Timās heartbeat racing. He doesnāt question it, just continues sprinting. He knew the bridge, and knew it was far.
ā...ā he grits his teeth. āIām on my way.ā
Tim hits the wall with a pained gasp, eyes squeezed shut as he doubles over coughing at the impact. His vision swims. Shit.
He lets out a sharp gasp, the breath knocked out of him as heās smashed against the hard bricks. The pain doesnāt have time to register, as his mind is sent into a panicked frenzy.
He sucks in a low breath, trying to clear his head and figure out what the hell just happened. Thereās a shuffle of feet, and the distinct sound of metal being unsheathed.
The attack was too precise, too sudden. He grunts, trying to push himself back away from the wall, but a large hand keeps him pinned.
His head finally stops swirling, and he can focus on the large figure in front of him. Not good.
Heās a towering wall of a man, arms bigger than Timās head. Heās muscular, clearly built like a brawler. The metal that had unsheathed was a knife, the sharp, gleaming blade being held firmly in the manās large hand.
āNo more running.ā the man growls, his other hand still keeping Tim pinned against the wall.
Tim glared up at him.
Heās been in situations similar to this before. Heās fought and won against opponents bigger than him, more experienced than him. He needed to stay calm, and assess the situation.
With a pained grunt, he pushes against the manās arm, struggling to break free. The man just leans closer, his breath hot in Timās face.
The smell of smoke and old alcohol fills Timās nose, making him want to retch as the man sneers at him. āStruggle all you want, kid.ā he drawls. āYouāre coming with me one way or another..ā Tim clenches his jaw.
He analyses the situation quickly. His equipment was in his belt, but pinned tight against the wall left him with very little mobility. He had to find a way to get away swiftly, before the man could do him any serious harm.
Timās mind races, trying to work out a way to get himself out of this. Heās too close quarters to the man, and any attempt to get away would lead to him getting a knife in his gut.
The manās grip tightens, making him gasp as the knife is held closer to his skin. His eyes darted around, searching for anything useful. He would have to time this right. āStop squirmin.āā The manās gruff voice rang out.
Tim ignores him, grunting as he struggles against the hand pinning him. There had to be something he could use toā
A gleam of something metal catches his eye, and he glances down, spotting a metal pipe sticking out of an open garbage bin. It wasnāt much, but it might be enough.
Tim takes in a shallow breath, his mind racing for a second. āWhy are you doing this?ā he asks, trying to keep the man talking and distracted.
āDonāt try any shit, sidekick.ā He tightened his hold on the boy, using his other hand to get out a walkie-talkie from the pouch on his chest.
Sidekick? Timās teeth gritted, a spark of anger flaring up in the back of his mind. He wasnāt just a sidekick.
Timās eyes glance down again at the pipe, trying to calculate his next move. He watched as the man brought the walkie-talkie up to his mouth, his heart rate increasing as he prepared to act.
āI got a bird out here,ā the man grunted into the device, keeping his eyes fixed on Tim. āFound him in the-ā
He barely had time to react before Tim acted. With a sudden burst of strength, he jerks forward, wrenching himself free from the manās grip. He immediately drops down, grabbing the metal pipe and brandishing it like a weapon. Flinging it into the manās hand that held the radio. The impact caused him to drop it, as he let out a cry of pain, stumbling back.
Tim didnāt hesitate. He quickly used the momentary opening of shock and pain to his advantage, striking the man hard in the stomach with the pipe. The man grunted, his hand instinctively going to where heād been hit.
He wasnāt about to give the thug any time to recover. He brought up a leg and kicked out fast, nailing him hard in the knee. The man yelled out again, staggering back.
He raged, stumbling forward and landing one hard punch against Timās face.
The younger boyās head snapped to the side from the hit, the force of it knocking his mask askew, cracking and splitting as he reeled back. His vision swims from the impact, but he can taste the distinct taste of blood in his mouth.
He stumbled back, bringing a hand up to his face and cursing, blood seeping down his face.
His head hurt. A lot. That one hit had left him dizzy, and his cheek stung like hell.
The pain is enough to clear his mind though, and he refocuses on the man in front of him. His lip is split, and his cheek feels like itās on fire. His mask hangs half off of his face.
Tim grits his teeth, glaring at the man with a new found fire in his eyes. He wasnāt going to let some random thug take him out.
The perpetrator lets out a huff, spitting out a glob of blood onto the floor next to him. An ugly sneer plastered his face, and he stepped forward, reaching down for the knife that had been discarded on the ground. āYou little shit.ā he spat. āIāll make you pay for that.ā
His eyes flickered down to the knife held flimsily in his hand. He needed to get out of this. The man was bigger and definitely stronger, but obviously nowhere near as experienced as Tim was. Heās surprised that the thug had even managed to get in a decent hit to his face.
His mind is too preoccupied, caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts, and he fails to notice the manās approach until the moment he's already upon him. The thug's fury makes him careless and ill-prepared, the sound of his stumbling footsteps betraying his presence due to the injury on his knee.
Tim quickly raises his arm instinctively, attempting to shield himself as the manās towering frame comes charging at him. Heās tackled to the ground in a single swift move, the impact crushing his ribs against the concrete floor.
His back hits the ground, the air getting knocked out of him for the second time that night. The manās weight pinned him to the ground, the air leaving his lungs in a loud gasp as he struggled.
The man had the knife clutched in his hand, the gleam of the blade reflecting the lights of the city as it was raised up, aimed to strike.
Drake nearly sneered at the sight. Heās an amateur. Over confident in himself and relying solely on force.
Timās eyes darkened, his glare locked on the man above him. He was not going to be defeated by some two-bit mugger.
He kicked out at the man, aiming for his still injured knee. The man grunted as he took the kick, shifting off balance for just a second.
It was enough of an opening for Tim to react. He pushed up on the man, using the momentum to roll them both over, switching their positions and taking the top. He wasted no time in smashing the manās head against the ground, knocking him out stone cold. Blood pooling down against the pavement.
He paused, breathing heavily as he stared down at the man. His lip stung as blood still trickled down his face, the adrenaline in his system beginning to wear off.
Tim sat there for a moment, letting out a hiss of pain as he lifted a hand and gently touched his split lip. He gingerly moved his fingers through his hair, grimacing as he felt the beginnings of a bruise on the side of his face.
Dick was still in trouble. That was the thought at the front of his mind, the reason he was out here and why he had to get to that bridge.
With a wince, Tim pushed himself up, staggering for a moment as a wave of nausea passed over him. He was pretty sure heād developed a minor concussion from being thrown into the wall.
Everything ached, and his body was screaming at him to just stay down. He ignored it. Nightwing was his priority.
He swayed for a moment, his vision going white around the edges as his head spun, before he managed to stay standing and start moving again.
He didnāt think, he just ran.
Heās still panting as his feet hit the concrete, his body protesting the movement. The nausea from his concussion was becoming very real, and he had to stop to take a deep breath to steady himself.
Fuck, he was going to throw up, wasnāt he?
Tim bit his tongue and started running again, forcing himself to push on and ignore the pain. He had to keep moving.
The cold, night air hurt his lungs, but he didnāt stop. Not even as the pain from the beating began to make itself known with each hard footstep against the concrete. He had to get to the bridge.
He kept going at a brutal pace, ignoring how his vision swam and how every breath he took just made him feel like he needed to puke.
Heās not sure how long he had ran, his mind focused entirely on just moving. One foot in front of the other, he just kept going.
As he rounded the corner, he noticed the bridge in the distance. His eyes widening, watching Dick stagger back against the railings edge.
Tim stumbled for a moment, but pushed himself back up, keeping himself moving forward. He could barely see straight, but nothing else mattered. Nightwingās tall and dark silhouette was leant against the night light of the bridge. Even from a distance, he could see the blood on Dicks skin, staining the side of his face, his suitās front ripped open, a large gash in his abdomen pooling out onto the ground.
Timās speed quickens, every muscle in his body crying in protest but he continues on. All he could focus on was the sight of Nightwing. In the low light, he could see Dickās shoulders moving with each heavy breath, looking seconds away from collapsing.
In a desperate attempt to save his mentor, Tim lunges forward and grabs onto Dick's arm. However, the fabric of the torn and damaged suit simply tears further under the force, causing Dick to slip free from Tim's grasp and fall into the dark, ominous water below.
"NOā!" The cry escapes Tim's mouth in a choked rush, the sound filled with anguish and fear. With a desperate burst of energy, he lunges forward, his hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to cling to Dick's suit, to anything that would keep him from falling.
But it was too late. He was too late.
His heart hammers frantically against his chest as he gazes down into the dark depths below, his eyes wide and searching desperately for even a glimpse of Dick in the river's deep murky water.
His breath hitches, a silent sob wracking his frame as he slumps over the edge of the bridge, his hands shaking as he brings them up to his face. His blood-slick fingers thread through his hair, his eyes wide as they stay fixed on the dark water where Dick had fallen.
The sound of a vehicle approaching in the distance catches his ears, but he doesn't acknowledge it. He doesn't turn to see who it is or check to see if it's a threat. He just keeps staring down into the water, the sound of the river below the only thing he can hear over his panicked breathing.
Jason came to a crashing halt at the side of the bridge, the panicked urgency in his voice clear. He stumbled off his bike, nearly falling as he yelled out.
"Where is he--ā His hollow eyes darted around at their surroundings. "WHERE IS HE?!"
Dick.
Tim's eyes widened as Nightwing's head broke the surface of the water, his body floating limp against the current. He's alive.
His shoulders tense as he quickly scrambles to his feet, his body protesting in pain with each movement.
The relief he feels is quickly drowned out, however, as he notices the large bioluminescent tail wrapped around his older brother's lower half, keeping him from crashing with the harsh currents.Ā
Jason quickly approached the bridges railing, his heavy boots thudding loudly against the concrete, his heart racing thunderously against his chest, deep sapphire eyes following Tim's wide gaze down into the water. As he saw the sight in front of him, his eyes widened in disbelief.
He gripped the rough stone ledge, leaning over to get a better look at his brother. "What the fuck is that?" The older boys voice cuts through the ringing in Drake's ears.
Tim couldn't respond, his eyes glued on the large tail, his jaw slack. He took in the sight of the long powerful appendage wrapped around his brother's waist. It was beautiful. The long black scales seemed to glow a soft purple even in the dim moonās light, as if the creature attached was glowing itself. The bioluminescence was something that one could only describe as ethereal.
Tim's heart raced as he took a step closer to the edge of the bridge, his eyes darting around, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. He couldn't believe his eyes. Neither of them could.
Tim's mind reeled, trying to comprehend what they were seeing. His heart was pounding, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to process the situation. He knew that he should be scared. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt heavy and thick as he finally managed to speak, his voice low and shaky. "I..I don't know." He croaked.Ā
A ragged breath escaped his lips as the sea creature met his gaze.
He was frozen as he locked eyes with the creature. His mouth went dry, everything around him seemed to disappear into the background. The only thing he could focus on was the deep piercing eyes peering up from the darkness of the river.
Everything about the creature was attractive ā its long shimmering scales, bioluminescent glow, and even the large dorsal fin along its spine.
The flutter of the creature's gills when its eyes met theirs didnāt go unnoticed by the brothers. Jason's lips parted into as much of a smirk as it could given the situation.
The Mer's features slowly disappeared under the surface, as it made a sudden exit. Both of the boys' eyes flicked towards the water, but the sudden gasping from their elder brother drew their attention away once more.Ā
Dick was struggling, coughing up water as he attempted to pull himself up and out of the water. His large hand was grasping desperately to the creature's shoulder, as he pulled himself up.
Tim's heart leapt into his throat as he watched Dick gasping for air, his body shivering as he struggled to grapple himself out of the water. He was so focused on his older brother's struggles that he almost missed the flicker of glowing purple as the creatureās tail disappeared beneath the surface of the water.
Tim moved forward to help Dick, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Jason with a grimace on his face.
"What are we going to do?" Tim asked, his voice filled with worry.
Their conversation was cut short, however, as Dick's coughing subsided, replaced by a strangled gasp for air, his eyes wide and frantic.Ā
"I'm fine," he rasped, his hands trembling as he tried to pull himself up onto the bridge, his body shaking violently. His sharp ocean eyes focused on the crushed seaweed-looking salve used to treat his wounds.
Tim was about to respond when they heard a shuffling from the water, the faint sound of something scratching against the concrete. Tim's gaze snapped down to the water, his heart starting to pound against his chest.
Jason had already stepped back and drawn his weapon, his eyes fixed on a spot in the water a few feet below them. The sound of sloshing water echoed around them again, the dim light from the moon making it difficult to see anything except the faint bioluminescence.
And then, you were gone.
This is the result of the poll -> link.
Donāt judge my random fighting scene with Tim I was trying something outš¦š¦
All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged!
I rewrote everything, so I apologise that this took so long to come outš