#Jason smokes them just to show he can

[haveihitanerve]

Cold take: Jason Todd smokes cigarettes because he’s the ‘bad boy’ ‘cool sibling’

Hot take: Jason Todd smokes cigarettes because Dick Grayson used to smoke them and even though he’s older now Dick is still his older brother and he’s cool so Jason still smokes them to prove himself to dick.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Outlier

You're the exception to everything Jason Todd knows about himself. He'll deal with that later. ~1.2k words

Jason Todd doesn't smile a lot. But with you it comes easy. It wasn't anything big that drew his awareness to the fact. You were just folding laundry with him while your favorite show played in the background.

It wasn't grand. It wasn't life changing. But he's grinning with all of his teeth, and he can't seem to wipe the expression off his face.

It's stupid, really, because all you did was offer to fold the sheets so he didn't have to. And now he's giddy. He'd be embarrassed, but he's too distracted by the melody you're humming softly.

He decides to be embarrassed about it later.

Jason doesn't talk a lot about himself. He talks to people, sure, talks a lot about cases and crime, and Gotham and the mission. But the deep and dirty personal stuff? He shies away from it.

Well, that's not completely true. Not with you.

He's talking about himself now, your head on his shoulder as you stare out at the city from the rooftop. He's not patrolling tonight, and you insisted on a picnic dinner to enjoy what's left of summer.

It's peaceful, and he hooks an arm around your back when you tug his hoodie tighter around yourself, staving off the slight chill in the air. He rambles a little more, he can't help it, he always wants to talk with you, listen to you.

He'd be insecure if you weren't so obviously engaged, prompting him to keep talking and sharing your own thoughts.

He decides to second guess himself later, and enjoy the shining lights of Gotham for now.

Jason doesn't hug a lot, but you're his exception. A hug hello, a hug goodbye, a thank you hug, a 'I'm glad you're okay' hug.

He cherishes them, wraps you up against him, and doesn't let go until he starts to worry he's making you uncomfortable. He'd probably never let go if he wasn't so scared of seeming desperate to hold you.

It's not– he doesn't mean anything by it, really. There's not anything more to it.

You're just warm, soft, and you smell like you. And Jason doesn't know anything more calming and soothing than you. So, if he craves the hugs you so freely give, isn't that okay? Wouldn't anyone feel the same?

He decides to wallow in his worries later, and focuses on the way you let him bury his face against your shoulder.

Jason knows a lot of things. Things about the world, life, people, space. Things anyone else would never even be the slightest bit curious about. But, sometimes, he just doesn't know what to do with you.

It's infuriating, the way you seem to care more about others' safety than your own.

There was no reason for you to go back into fire to try and help people out. There was no reason to put yourself in danger when he was right there to take care of it.

He has no idea what was going through your head when he hauled you out of the burning building. He would have dragged you by the back of your neck if it meant you just listened to him. If, for just a second, you considered that you could have died.

The thought makes him sick. The churning of his stomach isn't enough to distract from the angry look on your face. He wonders if he was too rough with you. He can't bring himself to regret it if he was when you start coughing from the smoke.

He knows he's too rough, this time, when he pushes you towards the paramedics and heads back to the fire.

He can break down later, throw his lunch up into the toilet later, because he's always too rough. But right now? He has a job to do.

Jason fights a lot. Breaks the bones of criminals, beats bruises onto thugs, shoots bullet holes into goons. But, he doesn't really fight with you. Tonight's different.

He doesn't think you should be so angry at him. He pulled you out of a raging inferno, after all. If anything, you should be giving him one of your hugs.

You're not doing that, though. Your face is scrunched up, and you're livid, and he can practically feel the tension between you two like a physical wall. He wishes he knew the right words to say that will make you see his side.

You accuse him of thinking you can't take care of yourself. (He's fully aware you can) You tell him he was reckless to go back into the fire. (You did it first!)

You snap that he was more preoccupied with pulling you out when there were other people in danger. (Duh. You're his priority. You could have had both feet out the door, and he still would have carried you out before anyone else)

You look completely fed up by the time you're done with your rant, and he's pretty sure he's only making the situation worse because he hasn't given you an answer.

It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just he doesn't have anything to say.

He wouldn't change what he did. He's sorry he upset you. But he's never been good with words or apologies, not even with you.

So he doesn't say a thing, just stares at you with clenched fists while he waits for the inevitable order for him to leave.

And he really is prepared to leave. He's surprised it hasn't happened sooner. He'll hate it. He'll probably even do something stupid over it. But he wouldn't force the weight that is his company on you.

He'll accept that this is what changes what he is to you. At least, he'll try. Later. Right now, he's focused on not crying as the silence drones on.

Your voice calling his name cuts through his thoughts, and his gaze snaps back up to yours. He hadn't even realized he'd dropped it. You step forward, and he braces himself for what's to come. The end of this. You and him.

But the end doesn't come. You cup his face– cradle his face and ask him why he looks so miserable.

Jason's good at running. Good at burying his emotions. He has to be. But you don't look angry anymore. You look concerned. You looked more worried than you did when he was last bleeding out onto your couch. So he spills his guts.

He stumbles out how he's too rough and too wrong and he knew you'd want him gone eventually but he's not ready to go and could you please just forgive him this once for not being what you needed him to be?

He waits for you to push him away. You don't. His shoulder slump when you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him so tightly that he has no choice but to believe that you want him to stay.

He doesn't hesitate to latch onto you and mumble nonsense into your hair. Promises that he'll be better. Different. Whatever you need.

You tuck yourself closer to his chest and tell him you don't need him to be anyone else but him. The rest of your reassurances are muffled into the fabric of his clothes when he clutches you tighter.

Jason isn't very good at admitting his feelings. But he wants to. With you.

He'll figure it out later. But for right now, he lets himself sink deeper into your hug, and all the serenity you bring.

[nikovraskol]

this is gonna be very long winded so apologies in advance!

I’ve noticed that the readers ages of 16, 18 and 21 feel more important since they’re like a checkpoint for important parts of their lives. 18 is when they butted heads with their family more often, 21 is when they died and 16, well that’s the age that the returned to.

what would it have been say at 16 they were on autopilot so they went to breakfast and Alfred (and by extension the rest of the family ) didn’t realise something was off about them until later?

what if they returned at 18 instead of 16 when their relationships were more volatile with the bat fam?

or heck maybe at 21 a month, week, day or hour before getting shot- say if they were able to contact the police beforehand or at least call Alfred for help if they were shot but the last timeline warned them enough that they avoided lethal wounds?

(bonus: Bruce or the others - I’d expect Jason to pop up from a seedy alley- finds them after being shot and on the verge of dying, but they’re saved just in the nick of time)

(bonus bonus: they get greedy and kidnap surprise adopt multiple different versions of reader and their batfams go nuts because they “went missing”)

GRR come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth i'm feeling romantical also i will carress you for picking up on the age thing.. like damn u actually read my shi

masterlist

at sixteen, if you were to go to breakfast and act on autopilot! then congrats! you'd be able to leave (for a month). it'd be difficult because bruce wouldn't check on you so you couldn't ask him for funds. but if you were to ask alfred maybeee he'd give it to you, so long as you don't say what it's for, of course.

so then, you're living happily, peacefully even. for two months, you live your life like a normal person! until one fateful evening when you're casually lounging about -- someone knocks on your door. weird, but okay.

you open the door, and there stands fucking batman and robin just. standing there.

"we're here to--"

you slam the door on their face. now, because you've acted on auto-pilot, they didn't interact with you in the same way they did in the og story, so you're understandably confuddled. because? why the FLIP is your estranged family at your door?

over the course of the next few days, strange events occur. you go to the diner down the road to get some food and red hood slides into your booth wordlessy. you're walking home after going to the store and nightwing literally APPEARS and offers to carry your groceries. your phone's battery is mysteriously depleting fast, flipping orphan and spoiler show up at your school, hanging around.

worst of all, no matter where you go -- there's that bat-shaped shadow following you. if you look up, you'll see the outline of his cowl, and if you lock eyes he will swoop in, to save you -- of course! so keep your head down, savour your freedom for as long as possible but don't ever get too comfortable.

at eighteen? ooh i feel like a fly mischeviously rubbing it's hands together.

twenty-one year old you waking up eighteen, well, dare i say, it's better than waking up sixteen.

eighteen you had preemptively distanced yourself from the family for you. you're a legal adult, so you can work -- and best of all? (you can smoke ciggerattes) you have actual friends.

up until your eighteenth birthday, your every waking thought was on how to be better, to get better -- so with you becoming a legal adult -- well you understood that there isn't much for you to do anymore, you began to focus less on yourself and more on you. despite that, there was still the nagging feeling heavy in your chest that you'll never be accepted, never be apart of them -- there was a part that yearned for that acceptance, however late it maybe.

so your sudden disinterest wasn't alarming, not really. until you've finally found a good place, in a nice area. you're packing your stuff casually when bruce walks into your room for the first time in fuuck knows how long (because alfred asked him to).

"where are you going?" he is flabbergasted, but keeps a cool expression on his face as you give him the most diabolic side glare ever.

"i'm... leaving?"

lmao, no you're not! all of a sudden this calm procedure turns into a whole thing. give bruce the name of your landlord, he wants to see if they're good -- in fact, he can buy the house off of them so you don't have to pay a thing!

dick and jason are literally scanning every part of your new apartment, top to bottom, every single thing.

"this is not safe, these windows don't even have locks." jason sighs, analysing your windows with such scrutiny it makes you uncomfortable.

"this chain is broken! tut, tut, you can't live here!" dick adds on, ignoring the fact that the chain on your door is fine and that one chip on it won't get you killed.

tim begins to talk to you about finances, but he overexplains it using words you can't even begin to comprehend -- you're pretty sure he's doing it on purpose, what with the smug grin on his face.

"didn't bruce buy the building?" you ask, your eyes narrowed as you watch him scribble down numbers and whatnot.

"..no comment."

while those buffoons are doing that, you're being pressured by damian to stay.

"why must you leave? to live in a crappy old shack? just stay in the manor, it's safer for you." he's literally DOWN your neck with these types of comments. meanwhile, you're reeling 'cause what the fuck is going on?!

whether you give in or not is up to you -- just know, you will one way or another return to the manor.

as for the last one, let's say you get transported back five minutes before getting shock. which pisses you off 'cause what're you supposed to do in five minutes!?

nonetheless, you manage to get away with being shot once instead of five times, so you have enough energy to limp away -- and then you bump into red hood.

oh damn, oh damn, wow, so he's going to shoot you to -- or that's what you think, what you don't expect is for him to pick you up and literally shoot your offenders.

wow, okay.

you get taken back to the manor and you're literally reeling as they fuss over you, "how could you be out so late!?" this or "why do you need a job!?" that.

it's a shortcut to being locked in the manor, they take care of you like you're incapable, dick spoonfeeding you despite your protests, tim sitting silently besides you which makes you stress because he's so unnerving, cass hovering around you -- bringing you everything you need, sometimes you don't even realise you need it until she brings you a glass of water because you 'looked thirsty' (???).

this isn't just restricted to when you're recovering. you nearly died because of their negligence! so they pay extra attention to you, just so you don't get any silly ideas about walking gotham alone at night. honestly? what were you thinking, it's a good thing they're here to protect you.

(also side note ; the idea of jason being NEAR (name) when they died, but not knowing is so eghsudg to me, like he'll learn about where they died after finding the crime scene and he falls into a pit of despair because if he had taken the right route, if he had followed his instincts, he could have saved you.)

as for the last, last one. let's say you're a random variant of (name) from another universe and you've gotten transported without knowing it, you walk home morosely.

as you open the door, you are greeted with countless different versions of you -- all of them wearing the same expression of confusion. you don't know how to react when dick spots you and shouts, "we got another one"

guys if u sent an ask or request I WILL get them done.. i'm just being a lazy bum, thank u for the kind words tho everyone <3

[55sturn]

✮ RUNNING INTO EX!CHRIS STURNIOLO AT A PARTY

inspired by + creds to: everyone that has written the ex!triplet au!

disclaimers: swearing, angst, mentions of drugs + alcohol, allusions of cheating [ no cheating ever happened ], chris is so in love with reader

you didn’t wanna be here in some dingy kitchen, complete with a slightly (severely) outdated interior, mismatched furniture in heinous colours that didn’t pair well, tacky printed wallpaper that mirrored the weird carpeting from the hotel in the shining, every surface in the house sticky with various spilt liquids, crushed cans and solo cups crunching beneath the platform of your doc martens with every step you took, and drug paraphernalia laying around everywhere you looked. you could even spot the cocaine straws and leftover residue of the white powder on the brown countertops. truthfully, in hindsight, it was not the best setting for two kids that just got scouted and eventually contracted for some of the best college hockey teams in the state.

but still, you plastered a smile on your face and showed up, for matt and chris, despite that you and chris had broken up a couple months ago. you know and witnessed firsthand how hard they worked to get this far in their hockey careers. and this party was being thrown to celebrate and commemorate their shared dreams coming to fruition.

the air was thick with weed and cigarette smoke as you made your way through the house, your eyes and throat burning with each blink and breath. the smell of skunky ass weed alone could give anyone in attendance the worst case of cotton mouth. you fought the urge to gag at the sight of couples and people who were obviously seeing one another shotgunning smoke into each other’s mouths or even just straight up swapping spit and dry humping one another.

you knew you were being a hypocrite and a bit condescending, considering that you were in those girls’ places less than six months ago. you and chris constantly put on a heavy show of pda, not caring who was around. but as you kept pushing through the crowd of people, your best friend stopped in her tracks, turning to face you so fast you’re shocked she doesn’t get whiplash.

“chris is head of the drink table tonight.” she hums right against the shell of your ear, and you’re quick to stiffen. this is the first time you’re going to see him since the breakup, and it’s not going to be easy considering how harsh the breakup was.

“fuck, i need a drink.” you groan, trying to come up with some way to get a drink without your ex seeing you.

“i’ll get a drink for you, wait here.” she smiles, turning and walking away just as fast as before, and you didn’t even have a chance to tell her that when chris is head of the drink table, he’s quick to limit a person.

you wandered aimlessly around the equally dingy living room, the soft LED lights making your head throb slightly, and you swore could feel the thump of the bass bumping in your blood stream. you knew you needed a drink if you were going to tolerate this any longer, so you took a deep breath before turning around and pushing toward the drink table. you felt your hands begin to tremble as you got closer to seeing chris with each step. you weren’t ready, and you didn’t think you were ever going to be. the fight had been a clash of angry words and deep cutting insults thrown at one another, most of them directed at you.

you stand on the side of the drink table, opposite of chris as he talked to one his buddies, contemplating turning around and pretending you were never there, but his friend taps him on the shoulder and nods toward you, and before you could leave, chris turns around, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second before looking away, only for him to look at you again.

“yo jason grab me a fruit punch truly.” chris calls over his shoulder, and the fact that he stills know what your go to drink has your stomach churning with nostalgia and something a bit more heartbreaking.

you’re quick to take the drink from him and walk away, but he’s quicker, much quicker to tap his friend into their shift and tag along after you, he’s one step ahead of you figuratively, always has been, it’s almost as if he could tell what you were thinking before the thought fully formed in your mind. and he’s quick to catch up to you, to gently grab your arm, pulling you back to face him.

“can we talk?” the words slip out of his mouth before he can even really think about them, and your body goes rigid as you look at him, the question you wanted to avoid had finally settled into the air, thick as the smoke that hung amidst the crowd of partygoers. and you go against your internal wishes as you nod, walking behind him as he pulls you to one of the bathrooms on the top floor, and you don’t question him as he sits on the counter across from the wall you’re leaning against partially to respect his space, mostly because his cologne is intoxicating and you fear that if you sit next to him, you’ll make rash decisions that wouldn’t be fair to either if you.

after a pregnant pause coupled with him watching your face intently, he hums a simple question that hurts more than it should.

“how ya been kid?”

“i’ve been okay, just trying to push through the rest of the semester, you?” you whisper, scared to break the rather agonizing and bittersweet tenderness that clings to the atmosphere.

“i’ve been, well, if i’m being honest, i’ve been a wreck. i miss you, y/n. more than i know i should given what led to us fighting and breaking up, but i don’t want to lie to you. but it’s fuckin’ with my head, you fuck with my head.” he sighs, fiddling with the silver bracelet dangling off his wrist.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve been benched more these last few weeks than i have in my entire life playing sports, i’ve gotten enough penalties to be threatened with suspension because i’m angry and i hurt every day and i just want to believe that this is just some fucked up dream and that it’ll finally end and i’ll wake up next to you, but it’s like i’m stuck in a loop that started the day you walked out.”

“you mean the day you told me that i’m too much for you? the day you said that you could get with any girl you want, that you almost cheated on me?” you spit, not meaning to sound so angry, but the fact of the matter is, his words killed you. they hung over you like a dark grey cloud, repeating on an infinite loop in the depths of your mind every time you doubted yourself.

“yes. and i regret those words every single second. i’m not trying to justify it, but i could feel myself cracking under the pressure from my coach, under the self inflicted pressure of wanting to prove myself to you, to prove i was still worthy of your love. i wish i had asked for space that night, it would’ve given me a chance to take a deep breath and collect my thoughts instead of spewing hateful lies your way.” he murmurs, his eyes glossing over with tears as you watch him, your own eyes stinging ever so slightly.

“chris-“

“i don’t want to be one of those pathetic guys that begs a girl for another chance after doggin’ on them but god kid, i am so in love with you, you’re the girl i wanna marry, and if i don’t sit here and beg for one more chance, i’ll hate myself until the end of time. i don’t want us to end because i fucked up when i should’ve just taken a step back, i want us to end together, in rocking chairs on our deck when we’re eighty, with grey hair and wrinkly skin.” he pleads, climbing off the counter and dropping to his knees in front of you, his arms wrapping around your hips as he presses his forehead to your stomach, and as mad as you were and as much as his words hurt, the idea of not being able to love chris or feel his love again hurt just that tiny bit more.

the idea hurt enough to make you drop down to his level, your hands cradling his face as you promise him one more chance, but on the condition that he starts communicating with you, because you don’t want to lose him permanently to something that could’ve been so easily resolved, but you also don’t want to go through another night of hearing such painful insults thrown at you by the person that’s meant to love and cherish you. so you let him in again, because you love him, and you know him, you know his heart. because sometimes loving someone, means giving them another chance to prove themselves, it means forgiving their mistakes but not excusing them, and giving them an opportunity to heal and grow from them.

[mistymisfit]

How they met

summary: When Poison Ivy takes Gotham's central park hostage reader gets stuck with Red Hood and accidentally saves him.

warnings: mentions of reader being shorter than Jason, reader uses glasses, mentions of reader wearing a skirt, smoking, and this.

wc: 3,8k

It was just a matter of time of living in Gotham until you got stuck on a situation like this. You have to have the worst luck in the city because, on the day you finally give in and agree to dog-sit for a friend, Poison Ivy decides to show up when you take her on a walk. Of course, the dog was no idiot and ran away a while ago at the first sight of danger, so now you were stuck here in Gotham's central park. You have to admit you're not as scared as you should be, however you were getting mildly annoyed at hanging upside down with a vine holding you by your ankles. At least you could be glad it wasn't the joker.

It was a common topic of conversations late at night with your friends when you seem to run out of things to discuss, debating which Gotham rouge attack you could survive as a hostage. This topic was only second to "Which vigilante would you rather have to save you?", that one allowed for more rambling over who you thought was hottest. Still, no pointless drunk debate could prepare you for when it actually happened.

"Hey, excuse me, miss" You said when you watched her walk past and she stopped almost amused that you'd dare to speak to her "I understand that you're part plant, right?"

"That'd be correct" She paid close attention to you, she was intrigued by the fact that the effects of her "sleeping pollen" worn off fast unlike the other hostages next to you. You were supposed to be passed out for around 5 hours more, after all her pheromones never failed.

"Yeah, so, the rest of us are human" You tried to be as polite as you could so she wouldn't crush you to death "So could you please put us down, I'm getting a headache from having my head upside down"

She didn't say anything but agreed, the vines gently leaving you and the others on the grass before quickly wrapping you again. As you felt less and less dizzy, you could pay more attention to your surroundings. The concrete trail was shattered, plants breaking it from growing over it, the closest bench was split in half, and a water fountain was removed from the ground, water leaking from where it used to be. Though your vision is blurry since you lost your glasses from hanging upside down, you can still tell that next to you were the mother and daughter you saw seconds before it all went down. The mother chased after her daughter, demanding her to not go that far away from her. Then your friend's dog, the king Charles spaniel you only agreed to take care of because she was cute, ran away and you went after her. Next thing you know, a vine wraps around you and you're hanging from your ankles, no dog in sight. When did all of this happen? And how in broad daylight?

You heard a cracking noise and thought, "oh, no, were those my glasses?". Your head turned to see ruthless vigilante Red Hood picking up your glasses from the floor, or at least you think that is what he's picking up. It sounded much like broken glass. He could tell by the disappointment on your face that they were yours, so he quickly moved in silence getting closer to you.

"Sorry" He whispered, cleaning them up a little bit with against his red vest. He gently put them back on your face, and you nearly blushed at his hands brushing against your face.

"It's okay," You lied. You couldn't be mad at him for it, but you could dwell on how expensive it would be to fix them.

"I'll get you out of here." He promised, his voice was still low, not knowing if she was close enough to hear him. He started cutting through the vines to set you free.

"Sure" If you could've shrugged, you would have.

"Sure?" He repeated, offended. He wasn't expecting you to be overcome by joy by seeing him there, he's realistic, but you could show more gratitude. Even if he crushed your glasses.

"Or you could leave me here to die," You deadpanned, you must've been in this city for too long if this wasn't fazing you "so I don't have to turn in that essay on Monday"

"I won't," He quips back, finally breaking through and helping you throw the plants from you.

"Well, at least you're not a cop"

"Good to know I'm a step above them" He was beginning to wonder when was the last time he met a hostage so talkative as he worked cutting the vines that held the little girl captive. She lumped forward, still unconscious as you caught her, holding her until he could free her mom.

"Several steps, really" You corrected "You won't remember them, but you rescued my neighbors' daughter after she went missing for four months"

"Who? Zoey?" You were both surprised, you over the fact that he could recall her name, and him that you knew that. Those kinds of stories never made the news, or if they did, they never mentioned him if it was going to paint him in a good light. "How's she doing?"

"Yeah, she's better now"

Once he managed to cut through the last vine, he picked her up like it was nothing. You looked away trying to push down how attractive you found that. He guided you, signaling to stay quiet on what you hoped would be a way out of the dome she had created. And just when you thought you're out of trouble, a plant wrapped once more around your leg, dragging you and Red Hood back in. As twigs and being dragged through the floor scratched your arms and your face, you couldn't help but think, Why me? and that at least in that rough motion you dropped the girl, and the paramedics running your way would take her and the other woman.

This time, she was not as merciful, a thicker and stronger vine entrapped you both together with your back pressed against his chest. He tried putting his arms in front of you to stop the vine from getting tighter around you, but you're quicker than him in realizing what could happen.

"Stop, stop," you swatted his forearm lightly to get his attention; "it'll break your arms"

You were surprised to see him listen, and he put his arms back to his sides. You could tell he was trying to be as respectful as he could in this situation, trying to avoid touching you even if your butt was pressed impossibly close to him.

"Hood?" You asked nervously, feeling something pressed against you. "That is a gun, right?"

"I'm flattered, sweetheart." He chuckled, "It's a 9 millimeter, but don't worry safety's on"

"Uh-huh" You acknowledged his response, more worried about not panicking at the thought of being squeezed to death. It didn't occur to you earlier that you might die today. Well, it did, you just didn't have to accept it until then. In your desperation you tried wriggling your arms out, at least to get some room to breathe. The binding plant was right above your waist, constricting your lungs.

"Stop squirming like that."

"Sorry, I-"You gasped, on the verge of tears "god, what if I die? My friends won't have anything to say at my funeral"

"Hey, take a deep breath." You felt his hands on your hips, his thumb gently tracing circles on your back as the rest of his hand kept you in place, grounding you. It was comforting; he was trying to make you feel better, and you appreciated the thought. He leaned down his head until his forehead rested on top of your head "You are not dying, okay?"

"Okay," you repeated, your voice weak but less panicked.

"Besides, if we're having a bad funeral competition, I'd beat you for sure" He joked, trying to distract you "What were you doing here?"

"I uhm, I was walking my friend's dog, she's out of town for her sister's wedding"

"What's it called?"

"Anne Boneyn" Your response was met with a full belly laugh from him, it's almost contagious as you had to push your lips together and hold back a smile to avoid joining him.

"I'm sorry, whose idea was it?"

"Mine," you blushed, "only because she named my cat Joan D'cat"

He laughed again, and if you weren't scared for your life, you wouldn't have known how to feel about him so close to you.

"Wait until you hear about my other friend's turtle, Mary Shelley" You added inciting his laugh once more. It was a bit of a contradiction to see a man you know for a fact has killed many people before laughing this much over bad puns, but you felt flustered and a little proud that you were able to do that.

"I'll tell you something; when we get out of this, I'll help you find Anne, hopefully with her head still attached," He offered.

"Hey" You laughed "that's not helping "

As your laughs died down and you were reminded of his hands still on you, you started to wonder if Red Hood was single, you'd kill him if he was your boyfriend and found out he had a moment like this with another girl. You have to stop yourself from getting even more delusional, this was probably a random Thursday for him, and you had no reason to feel bad or even jealous of an hypothetical girlfriend. You brushed off how he made you feel, attributing it to either the adrenaline of the moment or the fact that he's quite attractive and you haven't had any contact with a guy in a while. You really couldn't help but grow a little crush on him when he's so reassuring, telling you that you'll be okay

Then you hear steps, both of you suddenly going quiet. You could see some plants moving, but not her or any other vigilante, though the latter would surprise you more since you heard Red Hood usually works on his own, and you've seen a few news articles of him and Batman beating the shit out of each other.

"We're far from Crime Alley, Red Hood" You could finally make out where she was through a cracked lens, was she always that green? or was her skin changing?

"I just happened to be in the neighborhood" He replied before whispering:"Try to distract her"

She made a face of what you could only describe as disdain, and she was about to leave when he nudged you to get her attention. If you could turn back, you would've shoot him an exasperated "what the fuck do you want me to do?" look. You grunted from the vine getting tighter and decided to do as he said.

"Can I ask you something?" You rolled your eyes at what you said, anyone with a quick wit would've told you that you already had. "Why the whole display of power in the middle of the city?"

"Why?"

"Yeah, don't get me wrong, I agree with the whole men are killing the planet thing" You took a deep breath and she noticed, loosening a bit the vines so you could talk "But why the park? It's the only place people in this city get to see some green... besides the botanical gardens, but we are right next to them."

"Are you saying I'm wrong?"

"No I-uhm, I'm just saying you got the target wrong" You quickly added before you made it worse "You know it's not the average person that's killing nature?"

"It's men's greed that is killing the planet"

"Still, in a shorter run, you'll get better results if you aim higher," You reasoned "You should go after the factory outside the city that's been polluting the water, or the biggest oil company you can find, or-"

"Hm," You were both surprised to see her actually think about it "I suppose I could try"

What? You were just rambling, trying to buy time for whatever plan Red Hood's got. You were not expecting her to take your suggestions seriously, and neither was him when he whispered a "what the fuck?" under his breath. Once she starts walking away and turns your back to you two you quickly move your head, shooting him a look that asks the very same question he had.

"And don't even try following me," she warned, you knew that was for the vigilante behind you. You were not going anywhere that isn't your own bedroom after this "my plants will let you go in half an hour"

You were at a loss for what to do for all that time stuck there, hopefully you could free yourselves faster. Though you wouldn't mind spending the time with him. You mentally scolded yourself for thinking like that, you needed to stop being so delusional. Lucky for you, he did have a plan, so as soon as the grip lessened up, he was able to get his arms out and cut off the vines.

"Are you going after her?"

"Nah, sounds more like the bat's problem to me" He shrugged, " 'sides I promised to help you find Anne"

He kept up that promise, he helped you call out and look for your friend's dog until you found her—alive and with her head still on her neck. You figured it took you around the same time you would've been trapped had he not cut you off earlier. Saying goodbye to him was surprisingly awkward, as if he didn't want to leave either. At least until he noticed a few police officers, then he really made a run for it, but not without waving as he left.

He nagged himself for that, letting his guard down that fast when a pretty girl was nice to him. Then reprimanded himself even more when the urge to find you got too intense and ended up investigating you. And felt equal parts, bad for watching you and relieved to find out you didn't have a boyfriend. Told himself it was for your safety when he made sure you got home safe late at night, and convinced himself he was doing you a favor when he fed your cat on the balcony when you were out or sleeping.

"Fuck," Is all that left your lips when he fell on the floor. Where did he even come from? You were looking at the city lights, distracted, when you heard someone stumbling and grunting.

When you turned to see the very same vigilante who you met a few weeks ago, saying you were shocked fell short. It's rare that you ran into him once, but twice? That's got to be luck-- or its opposite. His muzzle was shattered, God knows where the rest of the pieces fell, he was also covered in blood and holding his side as he tried to sit up. You managed to move amidst the initial surprise, and leave your cigarette on the ashtray to help him up.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked, guiding his back to rest against the wall.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine," He repeated, as if he was not only trying to convince you but also himself, "It isn't my blood"

"You sure?" The way your hands lingered on his form did not go unnoticed, not that he minded at all.

"I'm just bruised," He explained before looking up. Of course, he'd end up at your building, and just by chance, you happened to hang out on your rooftop. "It's you again"

"Yeah, It's me" You held back a smile, he remembers you? You'd thought by now your face would've phased out of his memories, mixed along with the other people he must have helped.

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here-"You rolled your eyes, avoiding the real reason to be at a rooftop at 4 am. You could tell his eyes lingered on yours even under the mask before he looked up and saw the ashtray on the ledge. With renewed energy he got up, still using the wall to help himself. "Wait!"

He raised an eyebrow, and before he could make any witty comment, you beat him to it.

"I only do it when I'm stressed, okay? Not that I owe you any explanation"

"I get it," He sighed, reaching out for the pack and getting one out of the little box "You mind?"

You shook your head no, handing him your lighter. You watched him drop the broken muzzle and take the first drag with so much attention you had to tell yourself to stop being so awkward. You flicked the ashes off your own before your eyes went back to him. Jesus, what a fucking jawline, and now you couldn't stop looking at his lips. He was going to think you were weird if he caught you staring like this, or at least you thought that. Not that you would know he had been looking out for you since you met. From a distance, of course.

"I didn't get your name last time" He knew your name, you knew a guy with his resources probably already knew the answer. But you indulged him, saying your name out loud for him, "that's pretty"

"Thanks"

"So what's got you stressed out enough to be smoking this late," He said your name. You liked the way it sounds coming from his voice; he liked the way it rolls off his tongue so easily.

"Had the worst night out, ever" Now it was your turn to sigh, leaning in to rest your arms on the ledge. He was eyeing your outfit now, an oversized hoodie clearly thrown over a going out outfit, black tights and heavy boots visible under it. And if you leaned forward just a little bit, he could see a bit of the miniskirt your hoodie was hiding. "You?"

"I've had worse, had better" He shrugged, intentionally giving you a vague answer. He wasn't going to tell you about his activities, no normal person wants to hear about that much violence.

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow, your tone was playful, and he knew you were about to tease him "You seem pretty fucked to me, or should I have seen the other guy?"

"Hey, I've got no open wounds tonight" He smirked and you wanted to scream, why was that so fucking attractive? "I'm counting that as a win"

You let out a chuckle, and you just missed the way his lips curved up in a smile when you left the cigarette butt on the tray. His eyes followed your movement, looking at the lipstick-stained cigarette for a few seconds before returning his focus to you.

"Were you born here?" He asked

"Nope, I moved a couple of years ago for college"

"How's that going?"

"I'm getting my masters now" You shook your head, looking up at him before continuing "What about you? Are you a full fledged Gothamite?"

"Loud and proud" He joked, getting you to laugh loudly.

"Of course you are, I can't imagine getting a costume and going out to fight criminals every night" You teased.

"Hey!" He tried to sound offended at your remark, but he couldn't hide the smile he was fighting against, so he opted for changing the subject "I'm sorry, what did you say you were studying?"

With that, he got you to tell him about your masters, how you got into that field, and what you liked the most.  You also got him to talk a bit about himself, even if he was not willing to give you that much information. Both to protect his identity and not to scare off the first girl he's had a crush on in a while. You both steered closer and closer to the other as you talked, close enough you could smell the intoxicating mix of gunpowder, sweat, and whatever cologne he used.

"Can I be nosy for a second?" You bit your lip at the risky question you were about to ask. He just nodded, his hands itching to touch you again, to wrap around your hips like they did last time he saw you. "What's the deal with you and Batman?"

"What deal? There's no deal" He brushed it off, he was about to take a step back when you stopped him. Pulling him in by grabbing his clothes, an eyebrow raised and a "do you think I'm stupid?" expression. "We don't get along, 's all"

"Really?" You knew you were pushing your luck.

"He hates me, I hate him" He explained, hoping to put your growing curiosity to rest.

"In my opinion," Your voice was soothing, and so was your hand on his chest. He didn't know how long it had been since he was touched like that; "hate like that can only be born out of someone you loved"

"He thinks I'm bad, they all do" You noticed how weak and sad his tone turned.

"I don't think you're bad, if it's worth anything"

He moved one hand up to cup your cheek, and he stared at you tenderly for a moment. It happened fast, his lips crashed onto yours in a second. You hummed, tasting the left over taste of the smoke, stood on your tip toes, hands fisting at his clothes to maintain some balance as he leans down too. His other hand rested on your back, but not too low trying not to push his luck with you.  And he kissed you like he had something to prove, whether it was to you or himself you were not so sure of. What you were sure of was how warm he felt, your body pushed up against his in the cold, windy night. It felt like a consolation prize after such a terrible night.

And he wanted to tell you that he wished he was a normal person, that he had a normal life, and he could date you without it meaning a death sentence to you. But all it comes out is; "I wish I never met you"

"Excuse me?" You gasped, pushing him off "What a weird fucking thing to say after kissing someone"

"No—I mean" He sighed, hands cupping your face once again. You just couldn't resist that. "You're pretty, and funny, you should be kissing someone normal"

"I think I can make that decision for myself"

"I should go" He let go of you, and you grew colder by the second, already missing him before he left.

"Wait," You tugged on the hood hanging on his back. He turned back to see you, anything to make the moment last more. "I usually come up here on Fridays, in case you need to talk to someone"

He just gave you a court nod before jumping off, and you could only stand there and think about what just happened. Despite his better reasoning, he found himself swinging by your rooftop that Friday, and the one after, and all the next ones for the foreseeable future.

a/n: I mentioned in my birthday drabble that poison ivy called reader "her favorite hostage" and this is why, so technically part of the birthday-verse?

[darkleysgarden]

"Jason was the violent Robin!" Uhhhh, no!

Jason was different than every single other Robin for one huge reason. He didn't choose to be Robin. Obviously, he jumped at the opportunity. But, it wasn't the same as Stephanie already being a vigilante or Dick being set on revenge or Tim who just straight up begged for the mantle. Jason wasn't like that, he was asked.

Jason was a street rat who had recently watched his mother die because of her drug addiction, his father was a criminal who skipped (and he later found out had died because of that field of work).

And what Bruce saw was potential where Jason saw an opportunity to have someone to care for him. Jason gained this father figure, becoming the first child Bruce adopted.

And Jason was overjoyed. He was happy. More than any other Batman-Robin duo, they were father and son. Jason quickly started referring to Bruce as his father, Bruce calling Jason son. To the degree that they even used those titles when working as Batman and Robin.

So, Jason was an extremely happy Robin. But, that isn't the extent of it. Jason's childhood never really left him. His whole life he had to fight to live. Survival of the fittest. And if someone moves to hurt him, or anyone who can't protect themselves. He sees reason to become the fittest. To become a fighter that eliminates anyone praying on the weaker. Because he was once the weaker.

And that's where the Felipe storyline comes in. Felipe was a r*pist and Jason wanted justice for the women he had hurt. And this is the spot where people say they can see the signs. The signs that Jason would become a killer of killers. Bruce told Jason not to go after Felipe alone. He did anyway. And Bruce went after him. He saw Felipe fall off a balcony, dying upon impact. But, then, he saw Jason on that same balcony. Making Bruce wonder if he really fell, or if Jason had pushed him. Bruce knew they had different views. Bruce thought people could be scared into not acting again. Yet, Jason thought, "What about the ones who aren't afraid?"

Jason says little to defend himself. Just saying he must have spooked Felipe, causing him to fall. We never find out if that's the truth.

Bruce now worries that maybe Jason's past wouldn't allow him to become a Robin he could have at his side. Jason was forced to take a break from being Robin.

During his break, Jason returned to his old neighborhood in Crime Alley. A friend of his deceased mother stops him and explains that she had saved some of his important documents and photos for him. Jason took the box of belongings back home and went through them. A lot of it had been damaged by water. Including his birth certificate. As smudged as it was, he was able to realize that his mother was not his biological mother. After some detective work, he narrowed it down to three women that could most likely be his mom.

Now here's where I hate it when he is portrayed as reckless. When Jason ventures to the Middle East to try and find his mom, he and Bruce check in with each other many times. And Bruce was in the area too, searching for the Joker.

He finds his mother, Sheila, in Ethiopia. They get along well. Bruce was even there for their meeting. And when Bruce needs to return to Batman work, he leaves the two to catch up.

It's unfair when Jason is portrayed as reckless in this moment too. He didn't go after the Joker on his own. He talks with his mom instead. Assuming she would become a permanent part of his life, he confesses that he is Robin. It's then that Sheila admits something too. She had been working for Joker. The Joker shows up and near instantly he starts to beat Jason with a crowbar. Sheila turns around and smokes a cigarette.

When Jason is on the brink of death, Joker stops. And says he can leave no witnesses. He ties Sheila up and sets a bomb. Then Joker leaves them alone. And with the last bit of life in him, Jason struggles to free Sheila from her binds. Sheila attempts to get the door open to save the both of them, but she is too late. They both died from the explosion.

So, this is to say. I do think calling Jason the 'happy Robin' is far more accurate than the 'violent Robin.' And I think that because, as you can see, he was never really unnecessarily violent or reckless. And it should be recognized that even the more violent acts, like Felipe allegedly, were not premeditated or extremely out there. Jason didn't want to hurt people just to hurt them. In his eyes, he saw it less as hurting this one person, and more as protecting many. That will stick with him. Yet, it becomes much more prominent after his death with the trauma and such. However, entire new can of worms.

It's also important to see scenes like this, where Jason encourages Bruce not to kill Joker. As Robin, Jason never set out to kill. That came much later. And even later, he sticks to morals.

Also, listen to him!!! Modern DC content, please stop pretending Sheila wasn't there and just making Jason go after Joker on his own. You're messing up the story.

Jason always saw the world differently than Bruce. Yet, he hardly acted on it until he was shown just how cruel the world really is. When he became the weaker that needed to be protected, and wasn't. And now, as an antihero, his goal is to stop anyone else from ending up in his situation, even if it takes killing those at the top. Trolley problem. Killing one may save thousands.

[clockwayswrites]

Cozytober Days 8 & 9: Baking gone wrong & The slight smell of smoke in the air.

masterpost

Sometimes when Jason was feeling a little melancholy and a little soft, he’d talk about when he was a little kid, back before he had become a Wayne. It was usually just a quick thing, some memory about his mother that Jason could tell in a sentence or two. One time it had been about how they would sometimes, when they had enough to spare and she was off the drugs, they stop by the little corner store. It was owned by an old Cuban couple. There were these odd cone shaped egg sponges drenched in a spiced sugar syrup and they would buy one and split it. By the time they got home their fingers would be sticky with the syrup.

It had taken a lot of researching, but Danny had fond what he thought had to be the dessert (called capuchinos of all things) and the easier shaped cabezotes that he hoped to cook. He’d researched and watched videos and it was only four ingredients, if he didn’t count the syrup, so he thought he had a shot.

He bought twice as many eggs as he needed, just in case.

Luckily Jason’s kitchen had all the things that Danny needed. He set them out on the counter like he was prepping for a chemistry experiment. Baking was just chemistry, he’d been reminding himself. It wasn’t like cooking. Baking was a science. He could manage science. He used to manage science a lot.

Of course, science also killed him.

Danny tried not to dwell on the past as he started to work. Tongue peaking out he cracked each egg over a tuperware first, letting the whites drip between his fingers as he gently cradled the yolk to move to the final bowl. Honestly it felt a little like ecto. He’d read that the whites could be saved to make meringue, but Danny though he’s leave that up to Jason. It did seem a waste though once there were nine discarded whites so he put them covered in the fridge.

One more for the bowl, beat in a little sugar, carefully fold in a little corn starch, and a lot of doubt this would work even though he had followed the recipe. He had just finished piping out the mixture into the cupcake tray when he heard Jason coming up the stairs by the ding of an alert. He shoved the tray in the oven and everything else to the side or into the sink. He leaned against the counter, trying to look casual.

“Danny, hey boo,” Jason said with a tired smile.

“Hell, babe,” Danny said back and came over to help Jason unwarp from the fall weather. “Long day?”

“Yeah. But I think that we’ve done everything we can. Now it’s on all the parties to review things one last time and hopefully agree.”

“You’ll get there,” Danny assured him before pressing a soft kiss to Jason’s lips… which maybe turned into Danny bring pressed against the wall and the kisses lengthening and deepening.

Danny was very much enjoying it all until Jason broke apart to ask, “Do I smell smoke?”

“No! My baking!”

Danny scrambled off Jason and over to the oven He barely remembered to use a kitchen towel to pull out the slightly smoldering cupcake tray. It clanked as he set it on the cook top with groan.

“I forgot to put in the bowl water was they would burn!” Danny groaned and buried his face in the warm towel. “The what the fuck you call it!”

“The bain marie?” Jason asked as he came over.

His arms wrapped around Danny from behind and he sunk into the hold.

“Yeah… I’ve got more of the mix I guess. I can start over,” Danny said, voice quiet. He’d just wanted everything to go right.

Jason was quiet as he ran soothing hands up and down Danny’s arms. Finally he asked. “Are those…?”

“Cabezotes. In this shape they’re called cabezotes, but yeah. I wanted to surprise you with them. I have dinner ordered too and a show for us to watch. I thought it would be a nice night.”

“It is nice.” Jason insisted.

“It’s burnt.”

“How about this. We’re going to pretend I never saw these. You put another back in without me showing up and surprising you and I’ll go shower in the mean time, okay?”

Danny tilted his head back to pout up at Jason. “You’re trying to trick me.”

“Yes,” Jason said with absolutely no remorse. “Entirely for my own good too. How about it?”

Danny took a deep breath. “Fine, okay, go shower and let me work. I’ve got this.”

“You do,” Jason said. He pressed a kiss to Danny’s neck before he headed off to the bedroom.

Time to get to work, again.

[carvinglies]

Soulmate au part two: Creepypasta

part 1 || part 3 || part 4 Requests are open!

tw: mentions of flesh eating in EJ’s part

Sharing tattoo’s: Jason the toymaker

Jason didn’t think he would ever have a soulmate but desperately wanted someone to be with him and play for eternity. In that desperation, he stole many soulmates from their other half which went on for a while until Jason was tinkering with his newest doll adding on his “special” additions, when he felt a stinging sensation on his upper thigh. Pulling up his pant leg, he stared at the new ink on his leg confused before it hit him– he had a soulmate! A playmate for eternity was destined to meet him, that overjoyed Jason. He dropped his project to go find this soulmate of his, the blue door in his workshop beckoning him as he stepped inside to search. Days long searching ensued before Jason found himself standing in front of his destiny bound soulmate.

“Would you play with me forever?” The burgundy haired male asked the person as they stared wide eyed.

First words to soulmate written on their body:Bloodypainter

Helen never had time to worry about soulmates when he was younger but when he found his passion for painting the idea of being bound to another inspired him to no end. Ever since he was a kid Helen had the words, “Do you have a bandaid? I just scraped my knee falling for you.” Written on him, anyone he showed would laugh at it but Helen just found it confusing who says that to someone they just met? Well that’s what he thought before knocking over someone in the street when he went to go buy art supplies.

Before he could get out a sorry the person grinned bashadly loudly speaking, “Do you have a bandaid? I just scraped my knee falling for you.”

Words that describe their soulmate are written on them:Jeff the killer

Jeff honestly never gave two shits who his soulmate was thinking they just had some weird words scribbled on them due to their method of connection. He had no reason to go out looking for his soulmate. Thinking and I quote, “if destiny really wanted us to be soulmates they would meet me themselves.” So that’s exactly what destiny did. Jeff was forced to go out for snacks by BEN grumbling through his mask he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Turning around he glared at who disturbed him. “Sorry to disturb you but you kinda look like my writing,” they looked around before continuing, “I was wondering if you were, y’know, who I think you are?” 

Gravitational pull towards their soulmate:Laughing Jack

It pissed Laughing Jack off when it began the constant feeling of being pulled in a direction even if it’s easy to resist gets annoying. He can’t even escape it inside his box! Jumping around from house to house especially is harder if you no longer can stay long from the pull forcing you away. Laughing Jack was relieved when the pull wasn’t as harsh anymore when he was at the nearest carnival looking to terrorize kids, well that was the case before the pull suddenly ramped it up and flung laughing Jack colliding with someone else who seemed to have been thrown too.

The person held their head as they awkwardly waved blabbering out the first sentence that came to mind, “So hey soulmate? I guess?”

Ink marks that move towards your soulmate:Eyeless Jack 

It was hard looking for your soulmate while being swamped with work from medical school, and even harder after being sacrificed and turned into an unwilling flesh eating demon. While past Jack would have loved to meet his soulmate the one that’s here now feared the possibility of eating them accidentally the ideas of the what if’s flooding into his head as he stared at the smoke like tattoo’s decorating his arms. Sometimes when Jack was a child he would play this game where he would walk forward watching as the tattoos reached out towards the direction his soulmate was curling around his arms before receding when he stepped back. Eyeless Jack while a recluse craved normality so he finally exited his cabin towards the nearest store. While checking out his items, ones he didn’t really need but anything to feel normal he supposed, the cashier's hand touched his tattoos burned as the burning sensation spread all the way to his hand. Jack assumed the cashier felt it too watching they gawked.

Regaining their composure they began to tease him, “what took you so long?”

Seeing the world in black and white till you meet your soulmate :Ticci toby

Toby was always curious about how colors looked, what if he was wearing a horrendously color matched outfit and couldn’t tell because he couldn't see it? What if his favorite knitted sweater from when he was little was a piss colored yellow? So many questions have gone unanswered it still annoys him that he can’t see colors what if yellow was a whole different color then what he thought it was, well Cupid decided today he would find out as leaves crunched under his foot as Toby walked the woods coming across someone sitting on the cliff looking out at the city below them, when he stepped on a particular damp twig they whipped their head around locking eyes with Toby. Colors flooded both of their senses overwhelmingly so, Toby swore he could smell them too at the beginning.

Overwhelmed with shock his soulmate jumped up running towards him stopping halfway before beginning their sentence feverishly, “Nice to meet you!” They extended their hand for a handshake, Toby cautiously stepped forward before recorpirating 

[creepy-friday]

hiii

can you write more general headcanons plss, thank youu‼️💕

More Mansion Headcanons

The creeps aren't talkative every other day of the week and you might find yourself in the eerie silence of the hallways.A casual wave of static can be heard with a glimpse of a pale figure behind certain corners remind you that he always watches.

Behind the mansion there is a training area and next to it is a dead garden who has a small cabin inside full of supplies.

Toby doesn't smoke and just got used to Masky's smell of cigarettes

He is also a grown adult and knows when to act all innocent and clueless to get what he wants.Most of the times he is a ticking bomb ready to explode.He gets progressively more anxious depending on how much the other person he talks to is willing to bully him.Extremly traumatized

The residents altough in their 20's to 30's(except Sally)they have very teenage-like moments because The Operator showed himself in their life mostly during their teenage years.

They aren't always angry or bitter.Masky won't shove nor curse you every time you make eye contact with him.Jeff has a sassy personality but won't try to creep you off every day of his life.He gets tired too

The calmest the residents are is when they are in the kitchen eating.They need to catch a break too and it's an unspoken rule to not disturb anyone when eating

There are three ideas that are up to the reader's interpretation.

That Masky and Hoodie share the same room.I write them having separate or the same room depending on the reader's preference,ideas,and fantasies regarding it.

That the reader and Slenderman either have a father-daughter relationship or a romantic one.It heavily depends on the daddy issues meter.

That the reader was either bought in the mansion before or after the main two proxies.

Altough the reader has a lot of nightmares involving Jason or Candy Pop,the others might have them too and get random flashbacks of their past.

Nina,Jane,Jeff and Liu have an extremely complicated relationship and they would rather ignore each other when tired.(excluding Liu who wants to talk with all of them)

It's very easy to gossip in this place.You can gossip about the small mistakes people make when they train to down bad talking shit about someone simply because you can't stand them.

Rumors are very easy to be spread.The least problematic people are Sally and Bloody Painter.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

didn’t realize this was the liberal arts

Jason goes to college. You’re there. And then you show up in his nightlife, which throws him for a loop.

I wish I could tell you what this is but I can’t. i set out to write a meet cute. that's not what happened. Jason is a sad little dude. You’re in one of his college classes, but don’t get the idea that you’re nice about it.

Swearing as always. No use of y/n. I don’t know how long this is.

Edit: whoops, it's a series. rest of it is on my masterlist

————

Jason’s trying.

He is. He’s taking the tattered remains of his life and trying to shove them together, mash them into something liveable. Or at least, manageable. Something he can stand to survive.

It’s difficult. He rose from the Pit with a brain that didn’t quite work, didn’t crank like his half forgotten memories told him it did when he was fifteen. He couldn’t string two thoughts together, couldn’t make the synapses fire. Nothing at the helm but the searing pain he brought with him when he woke up, telling his heart to pulse just to find something to do about the feelings of rage and despair that submerged him.

Which, of course, led him to his stupid plan to kill Bruce.

It didn’t work. And it wouldn’t have helped anyway.

His head finally cleared when the dust settled. It dawned on him that he was blessed (ha) with a new lease on life, or something, and he should probably act like it. He should probably get off his ass and make the most of it.

He ends up doing the only things he knows how to do. Jason patrols and goes back to school to get his GED.

The fighting is obvious. He’s lead with his teeth his whole life, he’s not about to start pulling punches now. And a little purpose never hurt anyone, he figures. It helps, most of the time.

More surprising is how much Jason enjoys going back to school. It had started as a passing thought, but he’d forgotten how much he missed it, the freedom to relax and let his mind whir in circles. Bruce had given him the stability to clear his head and focus in the classroom, and he’d soaked everything up like a sponge. When he goes back he discovers, much to his delight, that he’s actually alright in the head. The lights are on, thank god, and soon enough learning comes easy to him, just like it did when he was a teenager. What a relief, to have that back.

He finishes out the GED and figures what the hell, he might as well keep going, and enrolls himself in Gotham U. He is, he realizes, fulfilling a long-lost dream he’d spun for himself back when he was living on the streets. It makes him quietly satisfied, and he pushes through his first semester.

So this is where he is. He comes home at 4am, showers, sleeps for a few hours, then wakes up for class. Dick calls every other week, Barbara patches herself into the line in his helmet without his permission, and he ignores them both. He registers for a course on seventeenth century literature and reads don Miguel de Cervantes, and Margaret Cavendish, and Shakespeare, of course, but also Galileo, which is fun. He brings his books to class, he makes notes in the margins. He searches the authors’ lives on Wikipedia and tries to make text to world connections, just like he learned in school. He looks around the table at the other students and reckons with the fact that they are not, and will never be, like him. Or rather, Jason is not like them. They’re younger, for one thing, but also infinitely more innocent, which feels stupid to say, but it’s true. Whatever they’ve had happen in their uniform lives is absolutely nothing compared to his, and Jason can put that right in his pipe and smoke it for all the good it’ll do him. But he can’t help thinking it, as he eyes them carefully. There is a chasm separating him from them a mile wide, and that’s all there is to it. He’s not like them. Not like you.

You sit next to him, sometimes. You smile at him briefly as you sit down, then remain silent. You don’t speak often, which is notable in a small seminar. Not that Jason does either. A few weeks in he realizes you speak once per class, unless asked a direct question. Your comments are always summarizing, reminding others of the various ideas discussed and offering options of where to go next. It is immensely helpful when you direct traffic like this, and the discussion tends to be clearer after you speak. He peeks at your copy of Paradise Lost spread open under your fingers to find neat little notes, passages underlined, a few question marks. You’re never late, and you always thank the professor before you leave.

Imagine his surprise, then, when he finds you after dark, kicking the shit out of his perp.

You don’t hear him approach, climbing into the man’s apartment with a thud as he realizes someone had started his work for him. He thinks he recognizes you from behind, except that would be crazy, so it can’t be you. What would a university student be doing here? Jason doesn’t count.

It can’t be you, but he’s not sure, so he clears his throat to interrupt. You look at him over your shoulder with a look of such savagery he almost takes a step back.

Yeah. That’s you. Huh.

The cognitive dissonance threatens to give him a migraine. You look him up and down, raise an eyebrow, then turn back to the man lying on the floor and deal him another blow. The man groans, which doesn’t faze you, but Jason snaps to attention.

“I gotta question him.” It’s true, Jason thinks this man has intel on Black Mask’s dealers.

You whirl back around. “That doesn’t seem like it’s my fucking problem.”

Holy shit. Who the fuck are you, anyway?

“Listen, princess,” he begins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him. This is the first time he’s spoken to you, and it amazes him that he’s doing through the modulator. “I got shit to do here, you gotta get out of the way.” You try to slam onto his foot, then recoil, hissing in pain. “Steel-toed, sweetheart, that won’t get you anywhere.”

“What do you even need to know?” you ask furiously. “You target Black Mask, right? You’re wondering if Black Mask is his supplier? He is, there’s checks on the table.” You nod to a modest desk in the corner.

Okay. Yeah, he did want to know that. “Thanks, princess, but I’ll take it from here.”

You wrest yourself from his grip. “No,” you say stubbornly, “I’m not done.”

“Yeah, you are.” Jason eyes the perp, realizing he’d fallen unconscious. Shrugging, he turns to the desk. You’d clearly gone through it, receipts and bills are littered on the table, but there’s a locked cabinet you hadn’t opened. Kneeling, Jason takes out his lockpick.

He keeps an eye on you as he goes to work. You haven’t left, although he’s not sure where you would go, or even what you’re doing here. You watch him warily, folding your arms over your chest. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually the lock clicks, and he slides the drawer open. It’s pretty bare, mostly cash and, aha, a notebook that’s gotta be important.

He holds it for less than a second before you rip it from his fingers, moving across the room and flipping the book open. He grunts in surprise and follows you, only to find himself with a glock in his face.

Instinct tells him to draw his own weapon, and his hand drops to his hip, but he forces himself to freeze. You’re definitely a civilian, despite whatever the fuck you get up to in your free time. You’re not dressed in any kind of practical gear, just a loose fitting sweatshirt and leggings. Jason scouts you out and realizes that the gun in your hand probably isn’t even yours, you don’t have a place to put it. You must have disarmed the perp before Red Hood had gotten there. Jason files that away for later.

“Let me look,” you demand, and Jason nods. You keep the gun on him, holding the notebook open with one hand and studying it intently. It is so like the image of you in class that he almost laughs out loud. Whatever you’re looking for, you clearly find it, and you mouth something over and over, memorizing it. Then you shut the notebook and hold it out to him.

He takes it cautiously. “You need a ride out of here?”

You roll your eyes. “No thanks, dipshit,” and with that you shimmy through the window and bolt down the fire escape.

Jason blinks. Okay.

He follows you anyway, watching from the rooftops as you make your way across town. It takes you a long time, nearly an hour, and Jason worries that something nasty’s gonna go down, but it doesn’t. You trek resolutely across the city, same steady pace, before letting yourself into a nondescript apartment building, an easy bus ride to the campus. He stays for about twenty minutes, but you stay put.

Jason raps a gun against his helmet. Weird.

He tries and fails to wrap his head around it as he finishes out the evening. It’s just not adding up. Jason doesn’t know you well from class, obviously, but you’re such a far cry from what he saw tonight that it’s hard to believe. He’ll have to do some research, he decides, scope out what else you do besides studying and beating up on Jason’s bad guys. Maybe he’ll even ask you about it in class.

He laughs to himself as he heads back to his own apartment. Weird weird weird. Weird performance you gave him, weird enough to keep him up at night. Oh well. You don’t know it, but he’ll see you tomorrow.

————

lol what is this? what is this? a series, hopefully. otherwise I have no freakin’ idea

[inkdrinkerworld]

thinking about meeting the batfam for the first time as dick's gf...

Your palms are sweaty as you get ready, something simple Dick had said. ‘It’s just dinner, gorgeous.’

But you know of Bruce Wayne and simple doesn’t seem like what he does.

Still, you go with something classy and casual- a dress. A yellow spring dress that’s all the way to the floor and patterned with little green and blue flowers.

Dick comes in just as you finish your makeup and whistles. “Goddamn,” immediately his hands fall to your hips, pulling you into him the second you set your lip liners down. “You’re a smoke show.”

You giggle and will heat not to flush into your cheeks. “Dick,” he shakes his head. Kissing you quickly and then pulling away.

“It’s going to be great, don’t stress it. Everyone’s gonna love you.” He seems to think his words over as he looks you up and down again. “Actually, Damien might love you a little too much.”

“Dick, he’s a kid.” Damien is the youngest of the Wayne’s; only around thirteen.

When you get to Wayne Manor, you’re glad you’ve worn a dress, Jason is dressed up in soft pants and a polo, Bruce is wearing a black shirt and black dress pants, Dick is matching you a little- blue shirt and soft pants and Damien looks at least a little uncomfortable in the smart clothes he’s in.

“Dick, I really did think you were lying about having a girlfriend.” Jason says and he scowls good naturedly.

“Well, she’s real. Baby this is Jason,” he points to each of them. “Damien and the big guy’s Bruce. Guys, this is Y/N.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you say shyly and they all say the same. Damien who scowls and talks in mostly grumbles through the dinner seems to open up to you and takes pride in saying something flirty just to piss off Dick.

“So what do you do?” Bruce asks and you smile, setting your cutlery down to take a sip of your drink.

“I teach pre-school for now.” You answer honestly and Bruce’s eyebrows shoot up.

“For now?” You nod politely.

“I’m not sure if I want to venture into elementary or middle school or remain with the younger groups. They’re fun, but I also think teaching a group a couple years older would be fun as well.”

Bruce nods, “Maybe you can get a day in Damien’s school to see what it would be like.”

Dick smiles at the offer, knowing the old man doesn’t do that with just anyone.

“So I’d get to see you all day?” Damien asks with a smile and you take a peak at Dick to see him scowling.

“You’re pushing you luck Al Ghul.” Dick says and you roll your eyes.

“Ignore him, he’s all talk no bite.” You whisper to Damien who seems pleased with the fact that you are willing to mess with Dick.

“Want to take a walk around?” Dick asks after the plates are taken away and you nod, taking his hand as he helps you out of the chair and leads you down a hallway.

“They’re nice.” You whisper and Dick grins.

“Yeah? Bruce likes you a lot.” He says honestly and just to see if it’s a real or pretend annoyance you say,

“So does Damien.” Dick rolls his eyes.

“I told you he’d love you too much,” he sighs as you reach a landing. “But he is a kid and he likes being a little shit with me more than the others.”

“Is this your old room, Grayson?” You ask as he pushes open a door and you’re met with a bed, what looks like gymnast equipment and bare cupboards.

“Mhm,” his eyebrows dance and you scoff, slapping his chest making him laugh. “What? I just thought you’d like to see the room that gave me all these bulging muscles.”

You laugh as he flexes but Dick pulls you further into the room. “No but I thought you’d like a little quiet moment before Alfred brings out dessert.”

You raise an eyebrow. Dick smiles bashfully, “I haven’t kissed you since we left the house,” you smile and lean up to kiss his lips. Dick doesn’t let it just be a peck, he keeps you in place with a hand behind your neck and deepens it.

“Better?” You ask him and he nods, kissing your cheeks.

“I don’t like sharing you with them.” He says and you laugh loudly, sitting on his old, springy bed.

“Dick Grayson, I never thought you’d be jealous of your brothers.” He comes closer to you, moving over you till you’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out in the sheets as he hovers over you.

“Jealous? No, those idiots don’t scare me,” One of his hands finds the hem of your dress, stroking the skin of your thigh. “You know I just like you obsessed with me, I like when your eyes are on me only.”

“You’re a menace,” you breathe out and Dick laughs when you move his hand and straighten your dress. “An absolute menace,” you stand and take his outstretched hand. “Take me to see the garden?”

“Whatever you want, my gorgeous girl.”

[moonwayne]

𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙭 𝙝𝙞𝙢 (𝙣𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣)

- 𝙟𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙙/𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

warnings: smoking/drinking, injury, guns, blood, talks of religion???? idrk… for the sake of the story, let’s pretend jason has a little smokey-smoke from time to time, mkay?

In the dimly lit and ever crowded bar, you watched with vigilant eyes as he brought the cigarette to his mouth. Watched the way he inhaled deeply and then exhaled the cloud which billowed out like a freight train through a small town. He had always had such a way with his words and his movements, it was hard to take your eyes off of him. To everyone else he was simply a reckless, loud and occasionally obnoxious man, with his crude jokes and blasé attitude wrapped in a leather jacket.

“Bit of a head case, ain’t he?” The woman sat next to you had leaned over, her tone of voice laced with judgment.

You chuckled and leaned back over, whispering, “Well, I am biased, he’s my man.”

You saw her shake her head and heard the quiet mumbling to the person next to her, picking up the small uttering of “God help her.”

Your good lord doesn’t need to lift a finger, you thought to yourself, coy grin splayed across your face, “Don’t worry, I can fix him.” She raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing your statement, “No really, I can.” You smiled, before returning your gaze to Jason, not noticing the judgemental look the woman and her friend had shot your way, thinking you yourself must be crazy too. And only I can.

“Ready, babe?” He asked, hand finding yours in the darkness. You nodded and he led you outside where he placed a helmet on your head, giving you a lopsided grin as he secured it, before climbing onto his bike. You followed suit, and wrapped your arms around his waist, beneath his jacket just as he liked. As you were on your journey back home, you saw the glint in his eyes appear as he raised his hands from the hike handles, lifting them up in the air and letting out a loud yell of excitement. You smiled and gently and slowly pushed his arms back down, burying your face into his back and reveling in the moment with him.

Up in your apartment, wrapped up in your sheets that had found themselves entangled around both you and Jason, you gazed lovingly into his captivating eyes. His hand, warm and so calloused from his pistol softly traced hearts on your face. You kissed him softly, hands roaming up to his hair and running your fingers through it.

He was a perfect case for my certain skill set. After all, you thought, he had a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn’t met you yet.

“What’s running through that pretty little head of yours?” He asked, voice low.

“Just thinking, I can show you heaven..” You leaned up close to his ear to whisper, watching as his skin rose with goosebumps. You pressed a finger against his lips as his face neared closer to yours and spoke softly “If you’ll be an angel, all mine.” You winked as he grinned slyly, leaning in again before his phone rang, signifying a request for his presence somewhere else in Gotham. He groaned and gave you a quick peck as you watched him put on his red hood attire. He sauntered over to your window and pushed up the screen before sitting in the frame, body halfway out and looked back to you.

“Be careful, please.” You pleaded, mind already filling with the worst scenarios.

“Always. I’ll be back soon, and we can pick this up again. I’m not done with you.” He spoke as a promise, before sending you a wink of his own and climbing down. You watched as he climbed onto his bike before returning your attention to your room. Looking around, you noticed he’d left one of his guns on your nightstand. I can handle a dangerous man. You said to yourself.

Later, a little while after you had made a cup of warm tea and settled in with your latest read, a loud and familiar thump thump! came from your window.

“It’s open.” You replied lazily. In came Jason, in all his glory, complete with a dazed look in his eye and marks that definitely were not there before painted on his body. It took you a second before realizing there was also a steady stream of blood running down his side. You gasped before rushing to his aid with a med kit. It took you awhile, the job not completed without a few winces and grunts, as well as some tears, although the last were from you, before he was all patched up.

“You said you were gonna be careful.” You reminded him, twirling a strand of his white hair around your finger softly. “I know babe. I’m sorry.” He apologized, “I’ll go lighter next time.” He told you, but the playful grin across his face told you he was not even considering it. You sighed and let your head fall onto his shoulder, exhausted.

I can fix him, no really I can. You reminded yourself again, thinking back to those ladies in the bar before letting reality creep in, like a dying wave across your feet at a beach’s shore. Woah maybe I can’t.

did we like? first time writing for Jason.

let me know your thoughts 🤍

x

[luvly-writer]

Crimes of a Mother

Ch. 2 Under the radar

Batfamily x reader

-•-

Authors note: Hi!! I am SO! EXCITED!! This fic is getting so much love and it genuinely warms my heart so thank you all for reading. This chapter went through a lot of editing. This fic will have slow updates. If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a comment or a reblog!

Warnings: none so far

Taglist: @nxdxsworld @give-jack-a-lightsaber @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @can-i-feel @n4muar @snowy-violet @ferakillia @mariadvorak @idonthaveanameforthisacc @yandereheros

Masterlist:

-•-

-•-

Y/n would come around the manor one a week for dinner. They enjoyed her presence a lot. Hearing about her childhood was refreshing truly. She had the childhood and teenage hood none of them got to have and they were glad. She was family, even if she didn’t know it. What was frustrating though was that she never spoke of her investigation or her findings. When asked, she would just show a knowing grin and shake her head. She was unto them. Damian would observe her mannerism like a hawk. It was undeniable she was Bruces child.

She still followed them during the night, a difficult thing to get rid off. They tried grappling away, smoke bombs, the shadows, she would catch them. Whether it was by foot, roof, or car, she was watching, camera in hand and her bag slung over her shoulder. Some days, they noticed her two friends would be with her. The camera woman, the getaway driver, and the lookout, they were an excelent team. They had been thinking of ways to confront her about it in mask but everytime they tried, she was with them. It was a slow night for patrol in a crisp November night and the fastastic trio, as they had named them were out on the hunt. Taylor was on the drive seat, Y/n was on the passenger seat and Charlie stayed in the back.

-“he looked at he as if I was some sort of freak for suggesting that his strategy was absolute shit and went for my shoes, MY!! CLEETS!! That man is absolutely gay, I’m calling it!!!”

Charlie exclaimed complaining about the captain of his soccer team, who he was sure had it against him.

-“Maybe it’s an enemies to lovers trope” (T)

-“You know those never work in real life” (Y)

-“Unless you add sports and a heavy load of sexual tension” (T)

-“Instead on knife to the throat it is a cleet” (Y)

-“THAT’S FOUL” (C)

The three laughed as they ate Batbuger. Batman, Nightwing, Robin, and Red Hood watched the scene from above in the shadows; both appretiating the girl enjoying her life and protecting the car from posibble danger. Maybe they were living vicariously through her and her sense of freedom.

-“So hows the investigation coming through?”

Asked Taylor with a mouthful. At that, they all perked up. Yn chewed and motioned to pull up the windows. As they did, Jason shot a small hearing device before the window closed. It stuck to the floor under one of the seats without any of the three noticing. They turned on the volume and connected it to the comns. Everyone was listening.

-“First of all, ew, dont talk with your mouth open and second of all, which of the three?”

-“Three? She has three undergoing investigations?!?!”

Whisper-yelled Dick and Jason shrugged.

-“Umm all three? I mean, we aren’t risking our necks in the middle of the night in a random dirty ass alley in Gotham just to get halfsies”

Charlie argued

-“Fair, let’s start with the least complicated one, Batman’s identity…”

Even though, Stephanie, Cass, and Duke were patroling on the other side of town; and Barbara was at the cave with Alfred, they were all intently listening. Finally, she carried on,

-“I have been tailing him, well them for weeks. They are eight in total that take turns patroling. Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, Black Bat, Signal, and Spoiler. They have been knowing I have been following them ever since the second week of university, but we all know I started the night I went to Wayne Manor. They vary in sizes and thankfully, I was able to get enough pictures to get their heights and test their tracks for estimated weight, see-“

She opens her laptop and shows them; Bruce tries to zoom in with his lenses and see.

-“She’s got most of them correct”, he mutters

-“This somewhat narrows it down. We are looking at four blackettes and a blonde, Signal and Black Bat are still a mystery. Signal is black though, which helps. Then I thought about who could possibly have the money to fund all of these gadgets and suits, which moves us to the upper east and eliminates Crime Alley and such. This carries on to the question, who would have the resources for such team, and I'm not talking money anymore, I'm talking human resources. This could direct us to one Billionare in specific, with precisely seven kids and a Blonde family friend. Bruce Wayne. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian all have black hair. Yes, it's true, Red Hood wears a helmet, but I have seen him fight without it, and his hair is black. The only other person that matches the height and the hair is Jason. Damian's skin color matches Robin’s. Duke is the only black member in the family and Stephanie is the only blonde. Barbara is in a wheel chair, which rules her out. Now, even though the height matches with Bruce and Batman, I have not seen Batman without the cowl so I’m not entirely sure if it could be him. He might be Batman, or he might just be the one investing in all of this. They are my main suspects, but I still need more information to actually confirm it’s them. For all I know, these could be all coincidences. I can’t make an accusation on these alone.

-“Oh fuck….that is still amazing ” (T)

-“Shit….yeah that brain of yours is something else” (C)

-“Now, even though I’m like 50% sure it might be them, I still need DNA samples. I managed to swab some of the blood in one of the fights they had before it dried after they left and am currently searching how to identify DNA samples. Might go to the forensic lab and get some help from that girl you’ve been talking to, Tay”

-“Oh we aren’t talking anymore, she’s too clingy”

-“Fuck” (Y)

-“Sucks being a journalism major and not a bio one huh” (C)

-“right now, it really does” (y)

-“But you can tell her I'll link up one last time if she helps, erases the data after, and keeps her mouth shut. She was a good fuck” (T)

-“Thank youuu for your sacrifice” (Y)

Both Taylor and Charlie snort,

-“It only took her a few fucking months...” (t)

-“Tim you found our identities when you were 9” (d)

-“LESS THAN SIX MONTHS, DICK!! IT IS STILL IMPRESSIVE” (t)

-“or maybe you all have just been sloppy” (da)

-“Shut up, Damian, that includes you, you know” (t)

-“SHHHH!! I CANT LISTEN” (s)

-“Now, as for, the case of my father, there must be a reason as to why my mother sent me to Bruce Wayne of all people, he must know”

-“and if he is what you think he is, then he might have information on your family!” (Ta)

-“Correct! But if he isn’t….them i’m fucked. Which means I’d have to start the investigation all over again”

- “Damn…what would you do if you’re correct though?” (C)

-“If he is Batman, or my father, or both?”

-“All of the above I guess” (C)

“…I don’t know…maybe I’ll ask him why was he never there, what happened between my mom and him, who is my family, I mean even if he isn’t batman or my father, he for sure knows who my family is and what, and unless I have something against him to make him tell me, this will prove even harder that I thought. I guess, I’m hoping my hypothesis is true so that I can ask him and get some answers. If I have learned anything about Bruce Wayne these last few weeks I’ve been with them is that he is a mystery that keeps on birthing more mysteries. Honest-“

BANG BANG BANG

A loud noice startled them. They all stiffen and look at each other. Charlie sits up and looks at the hour, marking 20 minutes till three. Some of the lights that had been around them started dimming and if there’s something they’d learned these past few months in Gotham, was that that was never a good sign

-“I think it’s time to go!” (C)

-“Seconding that,” said Taylor, turning the car on and pulling out of the alley.

-“Yeah, as much as I trust the fact that they were there patrolling near us, I’m not gonna risk it if the suddenly have their hands full”

Y/n agreed. As the began driving, Yn noticed a few strange things from the alley they were just in. She knew Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood had been watching from above, making sure their car was safe, but it wasn’t that. A few shadowy figures had been still on one of the roof tops and they had mistaken them earlier for gargoyles. The city was filled with them so it was an honest mistake. She saw that some of them moved and quickly took out her camera. Following them the best she could she took pictures of them. If the Batcrew (title given by Charlie) were slippery and difficult to photograph (hence why it had taken her so long to get a hypothesis and study each individually), these were way worse. Halfway through the drive; she saw less and less of them until, finally, they had gotten to the security of their apartment complex parking lot. Taylor parked the car and Charlie began cleaning up the trash. They had gotten out and noticed Y/n stayed in the car.

-“You coming?”

Taylor asked, worried as Y/n looked in her camera’s gallery.

-“Go ahead, I’ll be right up in a sec”

Taylor nodded and left towards the elevator with Charlie. As she looked in her gallery, she noticed some figures would have some sort of dark green silk with golden accents when the light would hit them. How odd. She began to put things back in her bag when she remembered earlier she had lent her charger to Charlie in the back and he never gave it back. She exited the car, opened the back door and searched for it. As she did, her hand touched on something small with a weird shape stuck to the rug under the driver seat. She pulled and found a small pin sized and bat shaped object with a red beating light.

-“Curious and curiouser” she muttered

Why would Batman leave this inside her car? It had been her turn to clean the car yesterday and this wasn’t there. She went to feel were she had plucked it from again and noticed that the rug had an indent in it.

-“This was shot in…not just simply placed,” she turned to look at the pin again, “Kind of heavy for a pin, which means it has technology inside and the red light indicates it’s on”

She pulled out her phone and turned the flashlight on, once again looking at where the pin was. She saw that the mark it left was light, but identifiable.

-“…if physics tells me anything, it had to be shot at a good distance with enough force to leave this kind of mark. hm….”

She pocketed it and closed the car. She went up to her apartment, and into her room. There she placed her stuff down and pulled out her notebook. She had told only half of the information she had found to Charlie and Taylor. Although she trusted them with her life, she knew that this information is mostly classified. That why she played it as if she was mostly uncertain, but she knew.

The last few months she would occasionally suggest doing activities that would test out their skills and compare them to what she saw at night. Nightwing was able to pull various tricks that Dick had done when she asked about his life as a Flying Grayson, which have only been seen performed by them. Jason’s aim was impecable every time they played darts and pool, almost similar to how Red Hood was know to be have perfect marksmanship. Damian’s mastery with and love for knives was impressive and strangely familiar with Robin’s. It had been one of the slow nights when the Batcrew had decided to debate on which weapons were the best and Robin seemed strangely fond of knives, daggers, and swords. Stephanie and Duke were quite obvious because of their distinctive traits. Black Bat had remained a mystery because of how easy it was for her to disappear in the night, yet Cass had that same silent aura on her. It was confirmed furthermore when she had recorded the Batcrew and the Wayne’s and compared the timbers of their voices, which were almost identical. The big Bat was the one who left her with the most doubt, he was almost impossible. Mostly silent, hair covered, and nothing to match Bruce’s behavior. The only thing that matched was height and the fact that he was a white man….and that helped with little to almost nothing.

She wasn’t 50% sure, she was 80% sure and the missing twenty was because she didn’t who Batman was.

She sat in her desk chair and spun around. Y/n had felt tired back in the car but finding the bat like pin woke her mind up. She pulled it out of her pocket and inspected it. Seeing it much clearer now, she found a few holes in the device. A tracker of some sort that could listen and record maybe?

-“You know I’m getting closer and that has you on high alert. You think you’re slick, Batsy.”

She said and pulled out her drawer, placing it in a a box inside just in case it also had a camera. Y/n was hardly ever wrong about an investigation, but this one made her doubt. It was one thing to go around in your small town from an Island, chasing mysteries and being damn good at it. Another thing was messing with a vigilante. She hoped Batman was Bruce, because if it were anyone else, she wouldn’t have her mother’s favor and the care he has gained for her protecting her and that terrified her just a little.

-•-

Back in the cave, Bruce sat down, reviewing footage from his tracker. To confirm, it is a tracker that records sounds and videos. He sees Y/n find the tracker and inspect it. Hearing her commentary and seeing her formulating her hypothesis created a certain fondness he didn’t know how to handle. (what feeling do you know how to handle, Bruce?) She was fascinating. He knew she observed them on the daily and took notes of it. It was a matter of time before she found out and it was impressive. He had called her mother and she had said Y/n had photographic memory, which explained her attention to detail.

Seeing her put the tracker in the box, he turned it off and closed the tab; opening another one. The thing Valentina and he had dreaded has finally happened. Y/n was under the Salazar’s radar and tonight’s spies proved it. He had called Valentina the moment he saw them and they both agreed that it was best for the Bats to stay close to Y/n even if it meant risking revealing their identities to her. He had no doubts she could discover them on her own and when she did, this situation might be able to make itself ten times easier.

———

Remember, if you want to be added to the taglist, leave a comment or a reblog to let me know. :)

[honeyjynxxed]

Dead on Main Songfic WIP

Danny peaked out from the curtain to check the crowd forming in front of the stage, feeling his breath stutter at all the people milling around. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, the Iceberg Lounge was a hotspot for the rich and elite to schmooze and network with their less than savoury business partners. A Gotham Gala was for fake smiles and political masks, the Iceberg Lounge was for the real business transactions to take place.

Was it a good idea to take a job as entertainment in a place like this? Maybe; Danny was still on the fence about it but he knew that it was important for him to be here. The salary was one of the major pros of taking the job, with it he might actually be able to get a slightly nicer place that wasn’t in the heart of crime alley, but on the other hand his protective obsession was going haywire the longer he spent time around all of these criminals. If he were a normal human there was no way that he’d be able to hear their conversations on weapon smuggling, drug trafficking, artifact stealing, and more but he was enhanced in a way that not many others could claim and thus he could hear it all.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts and Danny fought the urge to jump or yelp. Quickly he turned his head to see just who had managed to sneak up on him before letting the tension leech out of body. It was just his new boss, Jason Todd, second son of Bruce Wayne and rumored to be the secret identity of the Red Hood. Danny knew he was Red Hood though, their cores felt the same, sickly and fractured. “Pre-show jitters?” Jason asked and Danny felt his core trill at his deep, rumbly voice. “Anything I can do?”

“It's my first gig here, of course I’m nervous.” Danny had to look up at his boss, the man easily standing over six feet tall and Danny had not quite gotten as tall as his father despite all his growing, “Maybe a kiss to settle my nerves?” It was a cheeky thing to suggest and he coupled it by batting his eyelashes and sticking out his bottom lip. His act got him a pinch to his side that made him squeal and dart away from Jason. “Hey! Don’t be mean to the entertainment, I could quit ya now?” Danny stuck his hands on his hips and lifted his chin in what was supposed to be looking down on Jason but it didn’t look quite right given their height difference. 

Still his core gives a delighted tremble when Jason laughs at him, “Get on stage doll, and we’ll see what you have to say about quitting after.” His boss winks at him before nodding to the still closed curtains separating them from the rest of the lounge. Danny gives him a wave before stepping through to the other side.

There are people on the other side, but not a giant crowd like he might’ve been expecting. The Iceberg Lounge was first and foremost a lounge, somewhere that rich men and women could go for a nice dinner, a smoke indoors, and to show off their latest fashion, jewelry and whatever else the rich spend their money on. Old families with old wealth, new up and comers with new drug money, and those they allowed to come with them. To his left the band begins to play and Danny jumps right into the chorus.

“Skin and bones, vulnerable

Crack my ribs and make me whole

Come and breathe the air into my lungs

I just wanna be your skeleton.”

The band picks up in energy, shifting from the slow and careful tones before into something faster. Danny keeps his almost regretful tone however, even if his pace shifts. 

“A silhouette is following

Just waiting to break me down

I had it good, that’s what I get

I guess that it's my turn now. 

Cut the wires, tangled, twisted

To find me again

Fracture, break me into pieces

‘Til all that I am,”

Danny can see Jason moving between the patrons of the lounge, stopping and speaking with some, pointing and directing his employees around, and yet not once do his eyes leave Danny on stage. He moves into the chorus again:

“Skin and bones, vulnerable

Crack my ribs and make me whole

Come and breathe the air into my lungs

I just wanna be your skeleton.

Fix my head, stitch my soul

Find out where it all went wrong

Come and breathe the air into my lungs

I just wanna be your skeleton,

Skeleton!”

Danny let the last note of the chorus hang as the band was allowed to let loose, just as he began to let go of his powers. Not completely, not enough to go fully ghost, but he allowed them to slip through slightly. From beneath his skin he allowed his skeleton to become visible, allowed his hair to become streaked with white, let the neon green seep into his eyes, and his body started to disobey gravity just enough for him to rise a few inches off the ground. By the time he was finished with his little display it was time to jump back into the song.

“A blinding pain behind my eyes,

Is covering up the truth.

Inside my brain’s, a parasite,

It's telling me what to do.

Feeding on my happiness like I never deserved it at all

(I never deserved it at all)

Feeling like a pessimist when I just wanna laugh through it all

(To laugh through it all)”

Jason’s eyes had widened at the sight of his powers, a flash of green to reflect his own eyes changing but Danny’s boss was nothing if not professional and kept what must’ve been a surprise from stopping him from doing his job. Ancients above he wanted to see what would make Jason lose his cool, what Danny could do to finally make him snap. He’d been trying as Phantom to rile up Red Hood into finally just grabbing him and pinning him against a wall, a rooftop, a door, really he wasn’t picky, but he hadn’t had much success yet. Perhaps going at Jason Todd instead would get him more results.

“Skin and bones, vulnerable

Crack my ribs and make me whole.

Come and breathe the air into my lungs,

I just wanna be your skeleton.

Fix my head, stitch my soul

Find out where it all went wrong.

I just wanna be your skeleton,

Skeleton!”

Danny allowed himself to rise with the music this time, bringing the microphone with him. Nearly all the patrons in the lounge, not just the ones seated at the tables in front of the stage, were openly staring now. Some with wonder, some with disgust, and others in pure awe. He felt his core rumble at the sight, knowing every person in here would remember this night for a long time. Every ghost wanted that, to be remembered, to have their name spoken aloud by the living. Danny wasn’t fully dead yet but that didn’t make him an exception to that rule.

“I project pain with the frame that I maintain

Pulling on chains, wanna break what I can’t change

All that rage put away in my ribcage

Comes out in stages, how could I stage this?

Bending over ‘til you break your back for this

Go ahead and crack my ribs, and take my oxygen

I’m damned if I do, or I don’t, I’m breaking my bones

Can’t make it alone, no!”

Danny was glad that he didn’t need to breathe as much or as often as a regular person did, knowing the quicker parts of the song would’ve been trouble for him otherwise. If this wasn’t one of his favorite songs to cover he’d probably have needed a lot more practice in order to do it justice but his abilities gave him the edge he needed.

“Making such a mess (hey), it’s getting permanently

Painted in my head (hey), and there’s no going back

So love me like I’m dead (hey) until there’s nothing left (hey)

And watch me decompose (hey), ‘til I’m-”

He began to float slowly back down to the stage as he picked up the chorus, knowing the song was winding down and he’d have to shut off his powers soon to make it all seem like special effects. 

“Skin and bones, vulnerable

Crack my ribs and make me whole.

Come and breathe the air into my lungs,

I just wanna be your skeleton.

Fix my head, stitch my soul

Find out where it all went wrong.

Come and breathe the air into my lungs,

I just wanna be your skeleton,

Skeleton.”

The final lyric was sung and Danny pushed his powers out just a bit longer to plunge the stage into darkness, the only thing indicating his presence still there being the glow of his skeleton under his skin. The moment the piano played its last note, he extinguished the glow as well. An ice core he may have but all ghosts have slight abilities to mess with electronics and electrical signals, lights, cameras, and tvs being the easiest for him to manipulate. Electrical currents killed him and interacting with them too much can sap him of his strength.

The lights above the stage flickered back on just as he slipped behind the curtains again to hide backstage. He knew within moments that Jason would be storming back here to confront him but he was ready for it. Deep down Danny could admit to wanting this job for more than just the quick cash. Around Jason, around Red Hood his core sang and purred and trilled. When he was with Jason he could visibly see the tension leak from his body, could feel his core begin the process to try and mend itself. If Danny could help him with that then he wanted to, not just because he was the Ghost King and it was his duty but because he actually liked Jason and he wanted the other halfa to like him too. 

“What,” Speak of the devil and shall appear, “the hell was all that Fenton?” The teasing tone from earlier was gone and Danny could see Jason’s handsome face twisted with a wide array of emotions. Anger, caution, worry, fear, and so many others played out in his eyes and were broadcasted by his still forming core. Honestly right now Danny could just coo, Jason clearly didn’t know about the emotions his core was sending out but it was still really cute to watch someone else go through the baby ghost stuff. 

Instead Danny put on his best anxious, scared, please don’t out me face possible and began wringing his hands together. “I just…it's hard to suppress my powers all the time. I know Batman has that whole ‘No metas in Gotham’ rule but I thought since you were running the lounge you might be able to protect me from him.” He just barely looked up at Jason through his eyelashes, letting his lower lip tremble slightly in his act. “Are you gonna fire me? I don’t know if I can get another job…” He watched Jason stiffen, mentally fighting with himself on what he should do. Pretending his powers were meta abilities was the hook, playing on the fact that Jason had a rocky relationship with Batman was the line. 

“No, I’m not going to fire you. That wouldn’t be right of me and I don’t think it's fair that Batman doesn’t want Metas in Gotham.” Calling out the protective obsession forming in Jason’s core was the sinker. The baby halfa didn’t even realize it but Danny already had him wrapped around his finger, now if only he could get him wrapped around him in a literal sense they’d be going somewhere. “I would’ve appreciated a warning though, lying to my guests about special effects isn’t a problem but I could’ve charged them more for it if I had known.”

Danny laughed, forcing it to sound a little wet as if he were on the verge of tears. “Gotta make those elites give back to the world somehow right?” He chanced looking up at Jason a little bit more now and saw the relief on his face that Danny was joking back at him. He might not realize that his core was calling out for Danny, singing in tune so to speak, but somewhere he instinctively wanted to be around him. “So that means I’m okay to keep using my powers? I wasn’t lying when I said it gets hard to suppress them and my voice tends to bring them out more.”

Jason sighed and shook his head, “Yeah you can keep using them, but try and keep them to things that can be explained yeah? Make-up, wires, that sorta stuff. Can’t have Batman smashing in here to interrogate the entertainment. It's just bad for business, doll.” And oh how Danny’s core positively purred at the nickname. Some might find it offensive but when Jason said it he all but melted. 

“Keep callin’ me doll and I’ll do anything you say, boss.” Jason’s eyes darkened for just a moment and Danny suddenly had an entirely new way to get under his skin. For a moment his mind drifts to how Red Hood would react to being called boss by Phantom, or even sir. Danny didn’t want just a one night stand or a friends with benefits situation, he wanted Jason. He wanted to meet his family, help him reunite with his family, wanted to go out on dates and kiss him and hold his hand. Danny wanted the whole package deal, Red Hood Crime Lord and all. Plus, Jason’s core was so sickly, so fractured. He clearly wasn’t getting enough clean ectoplasm and either wasn’t feeding his obsession or wasn’t feeding all of his obsessions. Danny could help, Danny could make it all better. He wasn’t as knowledgeable on Ghost Medicine like Frostbite was but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help out a little. He practically exuded excess ectoplasm that Jason could naturally cycle in to help filter out whatever is making his core sick. The fracturing…that’d be fixed when Danny figured out his obsessions and ways to feed them properly. “Anything else, sir? I do have a second song to sing.”

Jason growled. Full stop, from the throat growled. Danny’s eyes lit up green at the noise, something that clearly came directly from his core. His boss at least had the humanity to look embarrassed by the noise, attempting to cover it up by coughing and clearing his throat. “Of course, please do not let me hinder your work. The crowd loves you already.” He paused, as if to say more, and Danny tilted his head, waiting. Instead, Jason shook his head, turned on his heel, and all but fled somewhere else in the lounge. Oh well, Danny would be seeing him again to get his pay and probably again even later when he went out as the Red Hood. He couldn’t wait~

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Fentons and the joker

So the fentons are in gothem for whatever reason, yada yada yada...BUT rather than danny its JACK that went phyco on the joker???:)

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Its just after danny revealed himself as phantom, it took some time to cope with it but the fenton parents support danny (as long as hes relatively safe) being phantom, in amity.

But right now Their in gothem, and jack and maddie are in protective mode, jazz and danny and a little annoyed since after danny revealed himself as phantom their protectiveness trippeled, usualy that wasent a problem, amity was their home, none of the ghosts really wanted to hurt danny, and they have access to resources and support when needed

But their not in amity, so if they get hurt they have limited options, and apparently jack and maddie take thay as :their children could be in danger, stay aware

Danny actually dosent mind it, he's outside of his haunt but he still feels as safe as can be

Jazz is trying to lecture them on the unhealthy coping mechanisms they've developed but that aside she dosent really mind

That was until they got a news report that their was a prison breakout

Danny and jazz are trying to keep their parents from pulling out the fenton bazookas

And jack and maddie are making sure the trackers on their children are working

Well suddenly the street is filled with smoke, there was screaming, laughing and the sounds of people getting knocked over

When the smoke clears danny and jazz are gone...

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Danny amd jazz were being held hostage by some loon called the joker

Now its bad because jazz needs to focus all her attention on keeping danny calm, he's outside in haunt without any protection, his parents are gone, he cant use his powers without outing himself again and theres a FUCKING CLOWN 3 FEET FROM HIM MONOLOGING TO A FURRIE

He's this close to loosing it and (probably) turning this clown into sidewalk chalk

The clown kept talking to the furrie but they weren't paying attention, after a certain point the clown aimed his gun at danny head...

And thats when the fenton-family-car ran through the wall, maddie took one look at the situation and started beating the everliving shit out of anyone who got in the way of her and her babys... after 5 minues all the goons were making a path for her and the other hostages are scared of this woman

Jack on the other hand saw the position danny was in, had flashbacks to danny amd freakshow, and promptly went insane

He shoved batman, tackeled the joker, breaking the arm holding the gun in the processes, and proceded to(with his bare hands) remove all of the jokers teeth, he them puller out a fenton-net, strung him up like a fish and handed the netted-joker to batman with the instruction "watch him"

Half an hour later nightwing and batman are talking to the fentons, jack and maddie each cheaking for injuries on jazz and danny

Nightwing is the one to ask

:why did you do so much to the joker? Why didnt you just disarm him?

:huh, OH, y'see my youngest danny-O over there, had some...bad experiences with clowns that left some lasting trauma...and well, no one scares my children

Nightwing gave a pointed look at batman, and prepared to show the recordings to jason

[ofbatsandballads]

so I guess I’m writing for Dick now? i’ve been nonstop listening to “the secret of us” by Gracie Abrams and while every soft, sweet song reminds me of Jason, every brutal, heartbreaking song reminds me of Dick. i was zoning out listening to “us.” and “blowing smoke” and this just…appeared. so have my first Dick Grayson blurb!

The secret of you and Dick Grayson might kill you.

It’s the little things that destroy you in the aftermath. He bought you poetry books. Age old love stories lie abandoned on your bedside table now. He’d read them to you, melodic voice waxing poetic with someone else’s words about the lovers of Greece and Babylon and Rome. And you, in all your great wisdom, truly believed that he meant it. That somehow he’d made those words his own. Bullshit. False prophets led you blindly into love with him. And the worst part? You’d gone willingly. Whatever, it’s fine. It’s all ashes now anyways.

But one thing stands true; Dick Grayson is incomparable. You can’t kiss anyone else without the taste of him haunting you. You can’t let anyone else touch you without closing your eyes and seeing ocean blue that isn’t there. It felt like fate to you the day you met; for him it was just another Monday morning. But sometimes, just sometimes, you swear it wasn’t. Sometimes when there’s purple hyacinths left on your windowsill at 3am, you can think that he held it for that brief moment in time too. And when he shows up on your rooftop, shining brighter than all the stars in the midnight sky? Well, maybe then you know he felt it too.