#nvmbercne

[modestfashionqueen]

A commission for a pal of mine, @nvmbercne. A ship of a couple background characters from The Batman series (2004 - 2008) that came about in the Roleplay realm of the DC fandom. It’s been far too long since I full on digitally colored something. Thank you for the challenge!

[exuviiated]

⚠ { from nvmbercne

Pick him up

        Nine out of ten vigilantes know proper etiquette for dealing with the villains they might face. Tyto hates himself for being in the one that doesn't, and it's all Number One's fault. With him out of the equation, Tyto has no doubts that he would have been in and out of this stuffy warehouse hours ago.

        And not doing--

        whatever the hell this is. Maybe, if he were in a snappier mood he would have been able to disregard the urge to trip one of the alarms that alerted Black Mask's Number One. Maybe, if he had some self-respect, he wouldn't have known exactly which alarms did that. Maybe if he had some sense of duty he wouldn't have worked his way through the warehouse methodologically tripping every single alarm tied into Number One's personal system.

        It is, as Catwoman once told him with grave disapproval in her voice, flirting.

        His fussy musing is distracted as the sharp crack of a sniper rifle firing shatters the silence. Immediately, he dives for cover and forcibly ignores the fact that if Number One wanted him dead, he would definitely be dead.

        So he's either pissed enough to want to hunt Tyto down and kill him slowly, or amused enough to goad him into a game of hide-and-seek. With guns. Tyto doesn't think that it's very fair, but he was the one to announce his presence in the first place and so has no right to complain.

        Another bang, and a bullet embeds itself in the wall inches away from where Tyto's hiding. He needs to go somewhere safer, but first he needs to find where Number One is. He's looking up to see the likely places for a sniper to perch, and so only paying cursory attention to his back. Number One comes at him on the ground which is a dirty trick that he really should have foreseen. There was one thing impossible to predict, though: Number One doesn't take the perfect opportunity to put him out of commission and instead opts to pick him up.

        It doesn't help his case that he's a serious vigilante when he makes a pathetic eep-ing sound when Number One grabs him around the middle and tosses him over his shoulder.

        “Number One put me down!” He yelps, and dearly hopes it sounds angry and not scandalized. It's hard but not impossible to get leverage in this position, easy enough to escape once leverage is found. Number One's hand on his thigh-- higher than it necessarily should be for this type of carry-- convinces him to reconsider finding leverage and instead hold still.

[exuviiated]

👫 for nvmbercne

Four headcanons

Mainverse:

Aaron is weak and sentimental. If Black Mask and Riddler break off their arrangement, he's going to go to ground and try to stay as far away from Gabe as possible.

Aaron has tried on Gabe's scope before. And promptly tripped over his own feet. He is no longer allowed to try on Gabe's scope.

Tyto:

I wouldn't say that Tyto is a stalker but he took an unprecedented interest in Gabe and that both unnerves and angers him. He doesn't know how to deal with it other than completely ignoring it or carefully indulging himself. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

Tyto considers it a game, how long he can tail Gabe and remain undetected. It has lead to some pretty interesting situations.

[exuviiated]

"Don't be scared." { from nvmbercne }

i lost the meme but i’ve had the reply done for upwards of a week

        Griffin is very much shaking. This isn’t the first time enemies that aren’t necessarily his have kidnapped him, but this is the first time they’ve done more than simply try to pry Gabe’s location ( or name, or knowledge, or– anything, really. They overestimate his entanglement in Gabe’s affairs, despite being one himself ) out of him. His entire body aches from being dragged, his arms are bruised and scraped all to hell with how he’d been dragged– by the ankle, arms ziptied behind him and left to hit every little thing on the ground. The rest of him is in similar shape.

        The words– he wants to cry out, help me!– manage to do more than anything else to calm his racing heart. There’s a splitting headache manifesting in his skull, too loud and too busy for him to fight.

[exuviiated]

☕ (from nvmbercne)

SEND ☕ FOR OUR MUSES TO HAVE A COFFEE DATE

“This has got to be the worst date ever.” Aaron sighs, leans over the table in the break room. “Sorry.”

He'd called Gabe and said he couldn't make it. There's a man with a severe GSW resting on the table in in an exam room, waiting for his friend to come pick him up and take him to the emergency room. The clinic, right now, it won't give the man the painkillers he needs.

Aaron'd pinned him as Benjamin ( Benji, everyone just called him ) the moment he came in. One of Penguin's, and not a bad man out of uniform. Four or five years older than Aaron. Would've died if the bullet went an inch higher. For now, Aaron is assured that he won't venture out of the room, that he'll call if he needs help.

Back to Gabe. Gabe, who understands that work comes first and had deigned to come to Aaron. With coffee, even! He can tell that the steaming contents of the cup is a blend Gabe thought he would like. The thought is touching.

He holds Gabe's hand across the table, finger pressed to the callous on Gabe's trigger finger. His hurried extraction of the bullet left blood on his shirt; it will dry and stiffen later. He'll probably have to throw the shirt away. He lowers his head, chest to the table; forehead pressed to the back of Gabe's hand.

“Thanks for the coffee. You're the best.”

[exuviiated]

"How would that make me think about you differently?" - nvmbercne

cheers, love, the cavalry’s queer 

“Well, you know–” does he? Griffin finishes tying off his bandage, angled rather awkwardly to reach the ends of the gauze. His top and binder are off to the side. Number One holds the tape for him. “When guys say they’re into men, sometimes they mean they’re into…”

Oh, boy. There’s no good way to say this that won’t make Griffin’s heart feel like it’s falling apart. It’s doing a good job of it right now. He wants to call him Gabe, and use that as some sort of comfort; he knows Number One wants the same thing, but they’re at work now. They’ll both be going back out in a minute or two, just as soon as Number One’s confirmed their medic-on-loan isn’t about to keel over dead.

“Guys with all the equipment. Anyways, this is not the place for a heart-to-heart. Pass me the tape?”

[exuviiated]

💭 for Gabe

A thought my muse has had about yours

How can he remain so soft? They're in Aaron's apartment, Gabriel nursing a knife wound to the side and Aaron babying his chest, both by now lurid shades of purple and yellow. Thanks to Aaron's speedy intervention, Gabriel had been free to re-enter the firefight; bandaged, lidocaine still numbing his side. What Black Mask lacks in medics he makes up for in footsoldiers; Riddler, who does not make a habit of getting into firefights, lent him Griffin. They're still trying to make this partnership work-- he's not complaining.

But now it's all over and they've slunk off to lick their wounds. Aaron's lying chest-to-back with Gabriel, chin on his shoulder, surfacing from sleep long enough to tug a blanket up and over them both as the temperature drops.

Sometime during the night, Gabriel has started holding his hand; fingers entwined, palms pressed together. Hands, Aaron knows, which have killed so many people he doesn't want to think about it.

He kisses Gabe on the nape and goes back to sleep.