impravidus’s best angst and whump
reunion by impravidus for LikeAPro42
29 Apr 2021
And then he's pushing past Elizabeth to get to Roy. He holds his shoulders with stone grip, taking in every one of his features, soaking in his presence for as long as he can before pulling him into a bear hug.
He then pulls away and socks him hard in the jaw.
OR: Jason!Neal reunites with a resurrected Roy
- Part 20 of DCU/White Collar Fics
Tim is born sick. Premature with a weak heart and even weaker lungs. His mother turns her nose in disdain as she looks at his fragile, wrinkly body. The nurse asks her if she wants to hold him. She declines.
Tim spends his first weeks of life lying alone, hooked up to tubes and wires.
His mother holds him for twenty minutes when they are released, holding him on the car ride back to the manor.
That is the longest she will ever hold him.
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types
13 Apr 2021
“Oh my Mary Shelley, is that me?!”
The teen in the mirror says the same thing and if that isn’t crazy, then he doesn’t know what is.
The Robin costume almost looks silly on a him that looks like this, a brick shithouse of a guy that’s gotta be at least six feet tall with gigantic biceps and thighs that he could probably smash a watermelon between.
He holds up an arm and flexes. A very not manly squeak escapes his lips.
“Holy guacamole, they get bigger?!”
(Jason, about to go beat up Tim at Titans Tower, gets swapped with his past self.)
05 Apr 2021
“The brightest stars, they’re the biggest ones. Thousands of light years ahead of us. And when they die, they burst into supernovas. One last mark on the night sky, one last encore before they dissipate into nothingness.” Conner swallows hard. “Sometimes I wonder if I… what it would be like to be a star. To go out with a supernova. To blink out of the sky with a burst of… an explosion of…”
10 Mar 2021
Peter trembles in the backseat of the car, wrapped in a blanket to combat what was assumed to be shivering.
Maybe it is. He can’t feel anything through his numb, burning skin.
Gentle words are cooed into his ear in sickly sweet whispers, calloused fingers carding through his overgrown curls. They pet his hair. They cup his cheek. They wipe away the crust of dried tears staining his crackled skin.
Peter just stares. Stares at the window pane splattered with streaks of rain. Doesn’t dare focus on what lies outside of it.