CheshireCaine

You are Hercules, brushing past trials like they’re cobwebs Except maybe, maybe those obstacles aren’t so immovable, Money-miser Hades hoarding grudges like currency appreciates that you even asked for Cerberus Normally the growling and pungent go away put off any would-be adventurers before they can get within reach of a monster paw You’re Icarus catching burning wax on scorched fingertips And remaking, remaking, rebuilding his wings Grabbing a runaway feather and sticking it back in its honey-trap Midas, bitter and vengeful Not shying away from touch But craving it Grabbing at the wrists of any distracted passersby Furi

“It's really cool you guys seem ready to do battle and stuff, but I've never done battle. I've just pushed some people and run away!” A breath, then, “What matters is you’re here now.” He needed to word this better (easily imagining Alfred’s biting criticism and Diana’s lack of sympathy). “I sought out warriors. But warriors aren’t the only thing needed to win a war.” He clapped an arm to the younger man’s shoulder. “Fighting head-on isn’t your specialty—you’re a runner. And that’s what we need you for.” The Flash bit his lip, eyes flicking

For three months, Jason was more productive than he’d ever been. He scrubbed the entire flat down from top to bottom and attacked it with every cleaning instrument he could get a hold of. Then he did the same with all his safe houses, hiding away anything he could find that didn’t belong to him, Roy, Kori or occasionally Cass. He hadn’t been this much like a knife to the gut of Gotham crime since his return from the dead. Careful to avoid meeting the other Bats, he decisively tore through each syndicate and gang, shredding through them like paper. If it weren’t for what had inspired his sudden work attitude, Jason wo

Tim moved his stuff back to his old apartment while Jason was out. He’d probably gotten Kon, Bart and Jaime to help out. Hell, maybe he’d enlisted Steph and Dick too. Jason didn’t feel anything—but that was probably because he'd spent the night at a bar and drank till he collapsed, leaving it to Roy to drag him to his shared apartment with Kori. It really belonged to all three of the Outlaws, and was paid for by Jason, who spent the most time in Gotham. But he’d moved out to give the couple a bit of room (after getting tired of waking from nightmares to the sound of their headboard smacking against the wall). R

Jason went through his regular nightly routine—making sure curtains were drawn, windows were closed, the TV was off. He yawned as he made his way to the front door, unlocking it and pulling it open to reveal a lean young man carrying a pillow. He sauntered his way to his bedroom, stretching one of his arms above his head till his shoulder popped. The young man followed him in—not a word spoken between the two of them—making sure to bolt the door shut behind him and wipe his feet on the welcome mat. This was the third time in the past month that Tim had shown up at his front door in the middle of the night, and even though

Smart work shoes, here for just gone a year Creases starting to deepen Black with blacker laces tied up in a double-knotted bow Tight stitches Thick black matte (like foam) heels almost as thick as a doorframe at the back flattening, smoothening out at the front till they’re only as thick as the pen you’re holding White creeping up the base of the heel—Did you step in paint? Brown, symmetrical grooves scored through the base of the shoes, too permanently caked with mud except at the heel where they’re worn away completely—like deep imprints / cut like a knife through butter into castle steps by centuries of foot

"Titus!" Tim screamed after the Great Dane as it swerved its way out of the house. "What did you do, Kon?" Tim barged past his soon-to-be-deceased ex-boyfriend in a sprint out of the back door, hoping to flank the wayward Great Shepherd before he escaped into the park. He scrambled over the fence but lost precious time unhooking his jumper after it was snagged by a post. He swerved around a corner and was struck with the sight of the dog being petted by a stranger. A really hot stranger. The man was crouched next to Titus and accepting his overzealous licks without complaint. The man unfolded himself and stood up, like it was natural for s

Happiness is a perilous chair A wooden leg wobbling Suspended in the air Held up by a scrawny leg With bruised, knobbly knees Maybe it shakes, quivers Arms windmilling like T's A hand clutches the table edge Gripping like a clingy toddler to mum Till stability is lost And the kid lands on his—