#but i’ve got yellow hair too mr. todd!

[bloodywonder1846]

There’s just something so funny about Mrs. Lovett being blonde in the 2023 revival.

I don’t mean this in a bad way, I just say this because of the many times Sweeney raves about Lucy’s yellow hair.

Every time he does so now, Lovett’s just in the background like, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

[peterxwade24]

"Little brother?"

For Maribat March 2021 day 17 Prompt Court of Owls.

For Maribat March 2021 day 18 Prompt Protect.

I hope you all like this monstrosity of a fic.

Ever since their parents died, Morjianna knew the Court of Owls would be after her little brother, because he is who they call the Gray Son. So, what does she do? Obviously she, with the help of Alfred Pennyworth and a street kid (that she ended up bringing back to Bruce's with her) named Jason Todd, faked not only her own death but also her little brother's in order to keep him safe. While she had been her father’s only daughter, Dick was her parents’ only child together and as such meant more to the Court of Owls and she had promised her Tata and her Ama that she would keep him safe even if it meant her own life was forfeited in the process.

Alfred Pennyworth had had new identities drawn up for them both, making sure to keep their relationship as siblings intact. Jason Todd supplied the names of a dead couple, Omar and Nadia Bitar, who were about the right age to have two children and had no living relations in the states. The two had lived a quiet life and had kept out of the public eye, meaning no one knew anything about them.

Morjianna and Richard became Harriet Marie and Dexter John Bitar, with their dark complexions and dark hair they could pass as Egyptian. She began wearing her hair in very tight braids to achieve whimsically wavy hair to help her fit into the role she was playing now. She spent the night researching all she could in Mr. Wayne’s library, enlisting the help of Jason Todd while her baby brother was preoccupied with helping Alfred Pennyworth in the kitchen.

Morjianna had taken to calling her baby brother Dex, while he called her Marie, and had asked Jason to call her Harriet or Harri. Richard had taken to being called Dexter like a fish to water, and had taken to calling his big sister Marie because Harriet was just too weird for him to call her. The siblings had quickly accepted Jason into their circle, knowing that they owed him more than they could ever repay him.

Alfred had taken to helping the three, giving them advice when they needed it. He had adopted the role of guardian and grandfather in a single breath when he saw the three looking at him with love in their eyes.

---

Harriet Marie, which is how she signed all of her assignments, sat in the Bat Cave idly watching the cameras when a flash of yellow eyes appeared in one of the cameras between Robinson Park and the Iceberg Lounge.

“Little Blue, Little Red. Parliament incoming. Between Toxicodendron and the Polar Ice Caps. You’re located closer to Toxicodendron than the Polar Ice Caps, please get there and alert me when you’ve arrived.”

Harriet Marie pulled on her domino mask before standing up. She pressed a kiss to Alfred’s cheek before going over to her locker and pulling out her suit. She muted her comm to let Alfred know what she was planning. “I’ve got to go and intercept some owls. Keep an eye on Dad, Dex and Jay for me.”

Harriet Marie pulled on her suit, a black suit with a blue bird across her chest with red finger stripes on either arm and a purple section where the blue and red mixed, before grabbing a pair of escrima sticks and their sheath. She slid the sheath on and shimmied until it was comfortable before sliding the escrima sticks into place. She quickly braided her hair back to keep it out of her face before unmuting her comm. “Kingfisher is heading out for the night.”

“Be careful.” The Bat’s tone was gruff but full of concern.

“Always.” Kingfisher chirped back with a smile on her face. She walked over to the rest of the vehicles stored in the Cave and threw her leg over a blacked out Dodge Tomahawk affectionately named Black Beauty. She threw a smile at Agent A before turning on the bike and zipping out of the Cave.

---

Marnie Kanté woke up one day and knew only that she had a little brother. She had woken up in a hospital in Nice, France with no memories of her life before that moment but she had a hand held in her hand. The hand was rough in the way that a programmer’s is but still soft in all of the ways that mattered, and it reminded her so much of her little brother’s (or was it brothers’) that those were the first words she spoke in that hospital room. “Little brother?”

She heard a gasp before a voice shouted for someone, she wasn’t sure who, and suddenly there was a swarm of people around her.

Marnie was grateful for the boy who held her hand, and for the boy’s parents. They had taken her in after she’d been released from the hospital with no memories of before she woke up. The Kantés had given her a family when she couldn’t remember her own and had treated her like their own. However, shortly after Marnie had officially been welcomed into the family, Mr. and Mrs. Kanté started fighting every night, and not too long after that they got a divorce and their family of four was a family of three again.

Marnie currently attended a middle school, they called it collège in France, in the same class as her little brother Max. Their main teacher was kind but she looked down on Marnie because Marnie wouldn’t bow down to the resident Queen Bee.

Marnie and Max were so focused on their work that they barely noticed when Mlle. Bustier handed out permission slips. The siblings exchanged a look before Max leaned over their desk to nudge Kim to ask him what it was about. “Hey, Kim, what’s this about?”

“We need parental permission to go on a field trip. Chloé’s Dad’s footing the bill because Chloé wants to go so we’re going.” Kim responded while stuffing the sheet into his bag.

“Where are we going?” Max asked, confused as to why they needed permission to go on a fieldtrip. All of their previous field trips they’d just stuck around France.

“Somewhere in America. I think it’s on the East Coast.” Kim shrugged dismissively and looked back to the front of the room, signalling the end of the conversation.

---

Marnie clutched Max’s hand tightly in her own, her bag in her other hand, as they followed the rest of their class to the hotel they’d be staying in while they were in Gotham. Marnie was glancing around anxiously, although some part of her deep inside was vibrating with happiness, as they walked across the parking lot.

“We’re okay Mar.” Max whispered as he squeezed her hand. “I’m right here next to you.”

Marnie nodded and let out a deep breath. “Thanks, Little Brother.”

The two walked into the hotel lobby and saw missing child posters. Plastered on the wall behind the reception desk were missing child posters, some new and some old although there was one that drew their attention. It was of a girl, named Harriet Marie Bitar, and the photo looked like it could be of Marnie, but the Kanté siblings knew that there were seven other people walking around with their faces at any given moment in time. Besides, Marnie had three horizontal scars across her throat and three nearly identical scars hiding within her mess of hair and the girl in the picture didn’t have them.

It totally didn’t mean anything, did it?

---

The Kanté siblings were standing in the middle of their class in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises when their tour guides appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Their tour guides were a pair of boys who couldn’t have been any older than thirteen and eleven with black hair and blue eyes. However, the older boy had darker tan skin and something in Marnie longed to wrap her arms around the boy.

While Marnie was looking at the boys and taking them in, they were taking her in in return. She just looked so similar to their big sister but they knew that the chances that she was Harriet Marie were slim.

Max could tell something was going to happen in Gotham but he wasn’t sure he wanted it to happen.

---

The tour guides had just led the class into the cafeteria and they had all just sat down to lunch when Marnie was suddenly back on her feet. She put herself between her little brother and the danger. Without Marnie knowing how, she caught a bolt which had shattered a nearby window and had alerted the rest of the staff to the danger. Her brown eyes hardened into an expression that Marnie had never worn before.

Their tour guides, brothers named Dexter and Jason, had disappeared the instant the bolt shattered the window, presumably to go and alert Mr. Wayne.

Masked vigilantes crashed through the window moments after two individuals with yellow eyes crashed through.

Marnie dropped the bolt she was still holding and fell to her knees at the sight of them although all she could say was “those dumb owls.” Marnie turned to look at Max, at her Little Brother, and smiled. “You wanna do me a favour and not tell Mom what I’m about to do?”

“Anything for you Mar.” Max had always looked up to his big sister and knew that what she was about to do was important.

Marnie nodded and turned back to the quartet fighting. She grinned a steely grin and let out a whistle. “Little Blue. Little Red. Go get the Bat. Those two are mine.” Marnie seemed to shake out of her skin and the two masked vigilantes knew they were looking at their big sister as she stood up. The two vigilantes nodded and distracted the Owls long enough for their big sister, their Marie, to sneak up behind them and take over.

Bluebird sent Robin to fetch the Bat, his eyes stuck on his sister. He had never stopped searching for her, not since she hadn’t responded after he’d gotten Jason and himself safely into the park. Bluebird kept his eyes on the fight, watching his big sister as she efficiently knocked out the Owls. He could barely stop the snarl from appearing on his face as he watched another boy wrap his big sister in his arms.

---

Harriet Marie looked up at the man who’d taken her in after her parents were killed, at the man who was her dad, and felt the tears well up in her eyes. “Dad.”

“Harri.” Bruce looked at his daughter and opened his arms.

Harriet Marie rushed into his arms and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t listen to you.”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you.” Bruce whispered it into his daughter’s hair.

Max looked at his big sister and was happy that she had found her family but was also sad because now she wouldn’t need him any more.

“Dad,” Harriet Marie pulled away from his chest and smiled at him, “you need to meet someone.” Harriet Marie looked at Max and motioned him over. “Dad. You need to marry his, our Mom, so that I don’t lose another little brother.”

Bruce laughed and shook his head. “You won’t lose him. I promise.”

---

Harriet Marnie, Dexter John, Jason, and Max watched as their parents got married. Harriet Marnie and Max stood in as their mom’s Maids of Honour while Dexter John and Jason stood in as their dad’s Best Men. They were overjoyed because instead of destroying one family to build another back up, they were creating something entirely new.

Harriet Marnie would always be thankful for her training coming in to protect her little brothers, but she would never forgive the Court of Owls for what they did, and the moment Max had the proper training under his belt she would do what had to be done to protect not only her little brothers but also her family.

[euphoriabled-a]

              ❝ What, surprised ol’ Nellie Lovett made this type o’ pie too? It’s not all about meat, y'know. A girl’s ought to think about desserts too if she wants to make a pretty penny when Autumn comes around rearin’ her head and makin’ the leaves crumble up. And there’s always the type that don’t like the taste o’ meat. Or the price, what it is. ❞

              Nellie wasn’t exactly Johanna’s biggest supporter, but she couldn’t hate the poor little caged bird. She didn’t ask for the life she got, and Nellie’s twisted maternal instincts told her that she ought to be a bit kinder to the yellow haired girl she had invited to pick apples with. Once upon a time, Nellie had been the beauty of the town. Soft faced with bright eyes; her gentle demeanor and love of cooking making her an eligible bachelorette.

              Although, she was always outshined by Benjamin Barker’s sweet little beau. His golden girl; the love of his life. His Lucy. But now the tables had turned. She was taking care of sweet little Johanna; she was the one tending to gentle Ben Barker Mr. Todd’s aches and pains. It was Nellie’s turn to be happy. It was Nellie’s turn to take her green shade of envy and shift her colors to a warmer tone. Just like Autumn’s influence on the leaves and the world around it, Nellie Lovett had been influenced. And she was shifting for the good better.

              ❝ I love me an apple pie, don’t you, dearie? Don’t you love the smell it gives right out the oven? The way the flavor fills your mouth with every bite? ❞ Lovett grins, picking a rather ripe one. ❝ I once won a pie competition a few years back, y’know. 'Fore the prices o’ things got to be so unreasonable. I reckon I’ve still got it. I could teach you a thing or two. Maybe you could make a li’l pie for your Jamie. It is Jamie, innit? He speaks more t’ Mr. T than he does t’me. I try to keep up, but Mr. Todd is never one for idle chatter. Always work, work, work with that one. ❞

AUTUMN STARTER CALL. @prettylittlejohanna​

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Tap Out Job

leverage 2.02

Jack: Somebody drugged his water. It's an old boxing trick. He couldn't defend himself, and... He's still in the hospital.

that’s fucked

- - - - -

Eliot: It's not a cockfight. All right? Let me show you something, Hardison. Come here. Can I borrow you? (puts a gentle hand on Parker’s hip, guiding her to the open space behind the couch) All right. Square up. Remember what I showed you?

(Hardison and Parker square up)

Hardison: Are you...

Eliot: There's three phases to an MMA--to an MMA fight, okay? One, striking. (Parker punches Hardison in the face) Nice. Next is grappling, the takedown. (Parker grabs Hardison and throws him on the floor) Exactly. All right. The third one is jujitsu. Okay, try to isolate a joint. (Parker gets Hardison in a hold) That's good. That's a textbook armbar, Parker. Put some pressure on there.

Parker: Like this?

Eliot: There you go. Or you can go for a choke hold.

Hardison: She got to be choking me. (tries to get away)

Eliot: Remember that thing that I showed you?

Parker: Oh, yeah. The choke.

Eliot: Lock that in. All right. You don't have to hold the arm. See, that's a triangle choke. That's nasty. Puts pressure on his carotid artery, and the guy will submit by tap out.

Hardison (tapping the ground): Eliot, I'm tapping! I'm tapping!

Eliot: These fights are won by inches, I'm telling you.

Hardison: I can't breathe!

Eliot: All about leverage.

Sophie: Yeah, it looks really painful.

Hardison: It is painful!

Nate: No TV deal, you said, huh? Hardison, what are this guy's other interests, this Rucker guy?

Hardison: Seriously, you ask me a question right now...

Sophie: I'll take that. Yeah, rotary club, golf membership.

Nate: Golf, huh?

Hardison: Help me!

Sophie: Yeah. I mean, this guy's like a 1950s sitcom character. He plays a weekly game with the local businessmen. In fact, last year, he won the club championship.

Nate: Did he? Hmm.

Hardison: Let me go!

Nate: I guess it's...

Hardison: She's killing me!

Nate: …it's time to hit the links.

Hardison: I'm cool. Just let me go real quick.

eliot canonically teaches parker how to fight in his spare time and I LOVE THAT

fucking CHAOTIC OT3 + parker is having a great time while hardison is dying

ALSO can we just for a minute appreciate how when she puts him in a chokehold she was wrapping her legs around his neck, which basically had his head in her crotch area and !!! it wasn’t sexualized at al !!! literally A N Y other show would have sexualized it even just a little bit but not leverage. never leverage.

- - - - -

I love it when they fuck with peoples gear (like with the baseballs or hockey pucks or in this instance the golf balls)

- - - - -

parker playing with the golf club covers

- - - - -

literally EVERY con has nate being an asshole (this one was one of the more annoying ones tho)

- - - - -

hi I am but a simple bi and eliot in that grey hoodie was VERY attractive

- - - - -

Room Service: Room service. Can I help you?

Sophie: Yeah, no, I can't eat this. I'm sorry?

Everything on my plate is yellow.

Room Service: It's chicken-fried steak.

Sophie: It's what? Chicken-fried steak?

Room Service: Yes.

Sophie: No, let me just tell you, all right. Meat should never be used as an adjective.

~ a little while late ~

Sophie: I'm starving.

Parker: I found these in the minibar. (throws her a bag)

Sophie: "Pork Rinds"? How do you peel a pig? (throws it back)

- - - - -

Hardison: Got it. See, Online video websites, they track viewer hits by IP Address, so the trick is to just spoof a bunch of IPs, then write a script that lets you browse the video page via the proxy list and...

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, this guy, he just--he give me the creeps.

Eliot: We've gone up against rougher dudes than this before.

Sophie: I know. But it's this whole treating people as commodities. This whole barbaric sport.

Eliot: Hey, don't lump these guys in with Rucker. All right, he's not what the sport's about.

Sophie: Eliot, this "sport" is about two guys beating the crap out of each other.

Eliot: MMA fighters act with more respect than any other athlete I've seen.

Sophie: Yeah, they're "Braveheart," I get it.

Eliot: No, you don't. These guys don't fight because they like hurting other people, all right. They fight to gain some sort of control over their opponents, over their environment, over their lives. Have you seen this town? Huh? The farms are drying up. The only stores are bail bondsmen and pawn shops, and there's nothing they can do about it. So, yeah, they get in the ring and try not to let it all suffocate them. (a beat, he smiles) And it's about two guys beating the crap out of each other. (she smiles back)

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a green flannel in this one and it looks very nice and comfy

- - - - -

Rucker: Well, bottom line is, you need good product. What event are you here to produce?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: On it. There's a tractor pull in grand island, a livestock show in council bluffs, white people doing other white things…

pls keep calling out white people pls we deserve it lmfao

- - - - -

Director (in car looking at his phone): Come on! Come on! Give me something! Come on! Is this gonna take long?

Nate (through window): No. Two shakes. Are you in a hurry?

Director: Even half a bar... what? Yes. Hurry. Does anyone in this backwater hellhole know what that means?

Nate: You're a director, right? What was your name again?

Director: What? It's Laurence. Todd Laurence.

Nate: Todd, well, listen, Mr. Laurence. See, I wrote a script...

Director: Huh?

Nate: Yeah. It's about a limo driver who solves mysteries till his wife leaves him for --

Director: For the love of god!

Nate: ...the best part: The feed store manager. Right? His wife…

Director: Yeah...?

Nate: Tramp...

Director: Hey, hee-haw, move the car! Okay

- - - - -

parker in leather pants, a bright yellow ‘I heart Nebraska’ tshirt and weird hat, eating a corn dog? ,,,a look I guess

- - - - -

Hardison (showing passes): So, I'm Todd Laurence? (girls flock to Hardison) Ladies, please, look. For the last time, I am not the tailback for the cornhuskers. Go! I don't even know what a cornhusker is.

- - - - -

Rucker: And all you need is a product?

Sophie: Well, that's what they are: Products. You get the girls with Trianna, you get the boys with MMA. And there's always another fresh-faced princess ready to go through the singing/dancing mill in Florida. Occasionally, we let one be a lesbian, keeps the press on their toes

- - - - -

Hardison: What? What? W-what was I supposed to do? It was cousin Jimmy.

Sophie: He's right. We couldn't have planned for that.

Hardison: Look, you know what I can do? I can re-task a satellite, I can get a level 3 NSA clearance, but I can't hack a hick

- - - - -

Eliot: All right, it doesn't matter. What do we do now?

Parker: We can move the Howorth.

Eliot: We're not moving the Howorths. All right? This is their home. That means something to people here.

Sophie: Yeah, we can't babysit them forever.

Nate: We've taken out bigger players than this. You know, there's got to be some way, something we can...

Eliot: No, no! I take the dive.

Sophie: You sure?

Hardison: Give me some time, okay? I've found some funny business in Rucker's accounts. I can move some things.

Eliot: Forget the fact that we just got beat by Barney Fife, all right? This is the right move. Tactically it's the right move. You all know that. (walks away)

none of them want to see eliot hurt more than he needs to or see him go down like that and I cry

alec ‘give me five minutes I will do literally anything for eliot’ hardison

- - - - -

Sophie: Hey. Listen, you-you don't have to do this, you know. Nate's gonna come up with something.

Eliot: I'm losing a fight, Sophie. I'm not diving on a grenade. I'll be all right.

Sophie: Yeah, I know. I'm not talking physically.

Eliot: I think my ego can handle it.

Sophie: Look, you told me that it's about control, about knowing that you're never gonna be the victim. And that's what keeps you going, right?

Eliot: You think I'm upset 'cause I got to let this guy kick my ass? I learned a long time ago, you can't control the violence. I can take the punishment. That's what I do. What I need to control is not out there. (touches his chest) It's here. Always.

(Sophie smiles and walks away)

- - - - -

hardison holds eliots face before he fights I never noticed that before

+ eliot’s hair is curly when it’s wet/when he’s sweaty. this means he blowdries his hair on a regular basis. eliot, as a part of taking control of himself and his life after moreau took interest in self care and taking care of his hair in this essay I will-

- - - - -

one thing I love about this is that eliot doesn’t have a six pack (see this commentary I made with a few lovely additions by my mutuals)

- - - - -

Jack: Where's Rucker?

Hardison: Oh, the Iowa State Police just got a tip that a fugitive is headed into their jurisdiction. And I'm pretty sure crossing state lines with a bag full of cash won't look too good.

Parker: Especially when they find the little surprise in his trunk.

[Flashback, Pawn Shop]

Parker: I need guns. (dumping money on counter) $6,000 worth. And one of those.

LMFAO THERE WAS A TUBA TOO

- - - - -

Doctor (examining Eliot): You took a hell of a pounding. We should get you a CT scan. You could have internal bleeding.

Jack: You let yourself get hammered like that on purpose? That's a hell of a lot of punishment to take.

Sophie: That's what he does.

- - - - -

eliot held the rope up for parker to step under when they were getting out of the ring

- - - - -

Sophie (to Parker): Pork rind? They're actually pretty good. (parker shakes her head and rubs her stomach) You sure?

sophie nO

[spoiler-alert-i-love-bats]

Batgirl

Jason’s lungs were burning by the time he finally lost Dick. It stung to breathe, and the fact that his helmet ventilator was malfunctioning didn’t help. The night was uncomfortably humid, every muscle ached, but he kept running—he wasn’t far enough away, not yet. Dick wasn’t going to let him get away that easy, and after the stunt he just pulled, he had a feeling Bruce wasn’t far behind. Scaling a small business building, Jason kept to the shadows as he ran across the roof towards an old mill. The moment he leapt from the parapet he knew he wasn’t alone.

“You gonna try to turn me in too, pretty bird?” Jason snarled as he landed on the rooftop, almost out of breath. “Because I’ve had a shit day being chased by your big brother.”

“Nah I think you’re safe.” A voice said from behind the brick chimneys of the mill.

Jason paused, a laugh that sounded more like an exhale escaping his lips. “Blondie?”

“Bingo.”

Jason hummed. Well she’s certainly gotten better at sneaking around. “Thought you were your boyfriend. Sorry, blondie.”

“Aw, and here I was thinking you called me pretty.” She teased. Jason smiled, slowly taking his helmet off and mussing with his hair.

“Didn’t think you’d need me to tell you that.”

“That’s fair. But still, what do you think?” Jason faltered when he looked over. Steph had stepped away from the shadows, the hazy, Gotham streetlights showing off a brand new symbol on her chest. She had been daunting as Spoiler, but this? Fuck. She looked powerful. The new suit was something else. You always did like yellow. Jason gestured to her suit. “Damn, blondie.”

“Right!” She exclaimed. Jason nodded his head, a grin on his face.

“Batgirl looks good on you.” Really good.

A proud smile spread across her lips. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Must’ve been tough for Babs.”

“Not really.” Steph said blandly, crossing her arms. “She thought I was ready.”

That made Jason chuckle. “Makes sense. Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Think you’re ready?”

Steph rolled her eyes. “No, Jason I thought I would go out on patrol as Batgirl for kicks.” She snarked, making it Jason’s turn to roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” She said, softer.

Jason stepped forward. “Fair enough.”

“Are you doubting me Mr. Hood?” She asked, nudging his arm with her shoulder as she walked passed him towards the edge of the roof.

“Nooo, of course not, Stephanie.” Jason jested, shoving back lightly.

“Better not.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jason whispered. He turned around to watch her sit down on the parapet, her gaze turning towards the glow of downtown. He watched her take a couple of breaths before walking towards her. “So what does Tim think?” Steph stiffened slightly.

“He doesn’t know.” She snapped, her voice a little colder than she probably meant it to be. “Not yet.”

“I see.” Well that struck a nerve. Jason sat next to her and began to take off his gloves. “Well, if it means anything, I always thought Tim was being a little bit of an ass for saying you weren’t ready for the streets.”

Steph glanced over, surprised. “Really?” Jason put his gloves to the side, along with his helmet before turning to meet her gaze. His surprise matched hers for a second before he continued.  

“Yeah, of course. Well, maybe more than a little bit.” He turned away, looking out at the streets. “I’ll bet no one’s had the presence of mind to tell you that before, huh?” Steph nodded. Jason shook his head. Assholes. “Look, you’ve always been able to handle yourself. You’re tough, Blondie, you’ll be fine. If Tim gives you shit about being Batgirl just lemme know.” Jason chuckled, “I’ll tell the little robot what happened when I underestimated Kori.”

Steph let out an airy laugh beside him and nodded, her brows slightly furrowed. Looking over, she hesitated. Jason wasn’t known to be this sincere, not to most of the family at least. But at the same time, ever since Bruce died, Jason was the only one who wasn’t weirdly distant. He was even on good terms with Dick again from what Babs said. His words were surprising, but she trusted them.

“Thank you, Jay.” Jason gave a curt nod, still looking down at the streets, as if it didn’t mean anything.

“You know,” Jason let out a wobbly breath. “he only said it because he cares about you.”

“And that makes it okay?”

“Well, no. Guess not. You just know how he can be.”

“Fucking annoying.” She murmured. Jason’s head shot up.

“Oh ho, the little bird has a mouth!” He exclaimed.

“Shut up!” She snickered. “You have no right to call me out on my language, Jason Todd.”

“I’ll do what I fuckin want.” He said, throwing her a wink.

“Mhmm.” She hummed, looking slightly flushed.

Jason sighed. “Look, blondie. The kid’s just… protective of the people he loves. He doesn’t know how to go about things properly.”

“He’s scared.” She whispered. Steph took a deep breath. Jason waited. “If we’re being honest? I think that’s part of the reason I ended it with him.”

Oh. Jason raised his eyebrows. That was new.

“Really?”

Steph nodded.

“Huh.”

“What?”

Jason shrugged. “Just didn’t think you’d be the one to do it. You always had his back. You stuck up for him in front of everyone, hell, even to Bruce when I couldn’t.”

Jason grimaced as he watched her smile fade, as if the very topic of conversation was making her exhausted. “Yeah, well. I just got tired of sticking up for someone who never believed in me. I already had to do that with Bruce. I shouldn’t have to prove myself to anyone, let alone my boyfriend.”

Jason shifted beside her, slowly nodding his head. Carefully, he nudged her shoulder with his.

“I understand what you must be feeling.”

“Yeah.” She said, pushing back lightly. “I know you do.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me.” Jason murmured, his voice slightly strained. “I know that probably doesn’t mean much coming from someone like me, but, I think you’re gonna be a great Batgirl, Steph.”

“I know.” She whispered, her head leaning into Jason. Slinging his arm over her shoulder, Jason grinned.

“I know you do.”

[glam-apollo]

Title: Mr. Yellow Dies

Fandom: Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency

Summary: When Jane Oliver approaches Dirk Gently's Holistic Agency about a murder she thinks might have happened years ago without any clues, evidence, or even a victim, the agency quickly agrees to take the case. Dirk, Farah, and Todd find themselves at the Oliver family's Halloween party while investigating and have to participate in the family's Halloween tradition: the murder mystery party game. Will solving this fictional murder help them uncover anything about the real crime they're investigating, or is just a distraction from the actual case? And who died, anyways?

Written for the Halloween @dghdabigbang! @browneyes-asiandragon made some lovely artwork accompanying the story so please go check it out! It’s really amazing!

I’ve included the fic on here but you can also read it on ao3 if preferred.

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Mr. Yellow Dies

Knock! Knock! Knockity-Knock!

There was a pause before the sound of footsteps could be heard coming from inside the house. The front door creaked open. The man opening the front door was tall, well-built, with dark hair that flopped nicely over his forehead. He smiled at the trio that stood on his doorstep but his eyes betrayed confusion. "Can I help you? You seem a bit old for trick or treating."

Todd Brotzman looked at the man standing next to him out of the corner of his eyes. What were the three of them doing there? They certainly were an odd trio--Holmes, Watson, and a Care Bear, all a good fifteen years too old to be ringing doorbells asking for candy. What was his plan? He'd been vague as ever on the way over, assuring Todd that it was a party, a party for the case, and everyone loved parties, now, didn't they? So come along! 

The whole ordeal had started with a simple statement. “I’ve been invited to a party twice,” Dirk Gently announced to his friends proudly in their agency’s office. “And, as much as I’d like to think this shows I’ve come far in my social standing, I’m afraid there will be no possible way for me to attend this party twice at the same time.”

"Two invites?" Farah Black said. “You got two invites to the Olivers' Halloween party?”

“Indeed I did, Farah!” Dirk said. 

Todd set down the files he had been sifting thru. “How’d you manage that?”

“My natural charms and talents, of course,” Dirk said, pretending to be offended. “Geez, Todd.”

"What’s the plan, then? I don’t want to sit around, waiting for a report of two party-crashers getting shot." Farah pursed her lip. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Todd said. “I’ll stay back.”

"Au, contraire!" Dirk said. "Farah will be accepting my invitation from Jane. I will be going with my invite from Lenny. And Todd will be going as my date."

"Right, okay," Farah shrugged.

"What?" Todd said.

That had been five days ago. Since then it had been a flurry of finding costumes, Dirk obsessively dragging Todd and Farah into any Halloween themed store he could find, arguing he hardly ever went to parties, much less costume parties, so they should indulge him. Todd secretly thought that it was very likely Dirk had a long streak of elaborate costume parties from his days back in England, but he held his tongue. Seeing Dirk delighted by styrofoam coffins and confused by slutty fireman costumes was worth keeping his own suspicions withheld.

In the end, Dirk had somehow managed to convince Todd that a Sherlock-Watson duo costume was a good idea. “You see,” he pointed out, “no one would suspect actual detectives to dress as detectives for Halloween! That would be absurd.” Todd agreed that, yes, it would be absurd. Dirk bought him a bowler hat anyways. 

Farah had been quietly indecisive about her costume all month. Todd hadn’t been sure what she’d go as--she’d shown interest in a variety of things, from a champion scuba diver she said was a childhood hero to the main character of the action novels she’d been obsessively reading during downtime in the office. In the end, she ended up with a Care Bears onesie Tina had lent her after, from what Todd understood, a very long phone call about how stressful Halloween was and a subsequent long drive to Bergsberg on the 30th. 

Back at the front door, Dirk smiled at the man questioning them. The man was quite handsome, with a square jaw and tough cheekbones. Almost too classically handsome, Todd thought to himself. But it worked with his costume--some variation on Dracula--which became apparent when he opened his mouth and showed off his tiny fangs.

"Max Oliver?" Dirk asked confidently.

"Yes," the man said, eyebrows raised, fangs revealed in the O his mouth formed. "And you are?"

"Dirk Gently," he said, pushing the front of his deerstalker cap out of his face. "I was invited by Lenny. This is my date, Todd, and this is the lovely Farah Black, who was invited by Jane."

"I've never seen any of you before in my life," Max admitted. "I didn't know guests could invite guests, either."

"It would be a bit awkward to send Todd home now, wouldn't it?" Dirk said pointedly.

"Dirk," Todd groaned.

"No, I mean, I didn't realize Lenny could invite guests," Max said, shaking his head. "Although, I suppose he's never really been one to follow our family's ideals."

"Is that so!" Dirk said, giving his friends a pointed look.

Max nodded. "It isn't my place, of course, but I consider him an outsider to our family." Max stared up and down at the three of them, as if to make a point that they were even more outsiders than Lenny. After a beat, he sighed and opened the door for them. "You might as well come in. I’ll at least give Mother the final call on you three."

Dirk smiled and gave his companions a thumbs up before walking into the house after Max. Todd and Farah followed, Todd already regretting his itchy costume, Farah already regretting her lack of weaponry. 

Max led them into a lounge where five other people sat around in couches and chairs, chatting quietly to themselves. Todd only recognized one of them--Jane Oliver, their client. She was the reason they were here in the first place, the reason the case had been opened. She was small both in size and presence, the youngest of the three Oliver siblings, still in her teens. She was wearing a mostly plain, long red dress, which Todd assumed must be some sort of Princess--Princess Bride? Cinderella? Sleeping Beauty? He hadn't the slightest clue.

Jane was sitting next to an older woman, presumably her mother, the infamous Cordelia Oliver. Cordelia was the owner of the local community theater and a force to be reckoned with. She had lost some of her dazzle with the passing of her husband, Jules. Jules Oliver had been her partner in the theater, her partner in their home, her partner on the stage. Losing him meant she had lost love. Yet none of her fierceness faded; if anything, it grew into a strong and steady resentment towards the world and life itself.

Dirk smiled at two men sitting on the couch opposite Cordelia and Jane. "Lenny! Daniel!" he said. Daniel Oliver was the middle child of the family. College-aged and somewhat unmotivated, he was a stand out in his family of determined extroverts. His boyfriend, Lenny Anderson, seemed to represent everything the rest of the family couldn't stand about Daniel and worse. His lazy nature, lack of care for anything, inability to make and hold commitments annoyed the Olivers on the best of days. Lenny couldn’t keep a job, stay on a major, anything. At least he made Daniel happy.

Max flocked to a woman standing alone by the bookshelf. Adrianna Waye. She was the star in most of the local theater productions and Max's fiancé. She was gorgeous, elegant, and, by all accounts, extremely unpleasant to be around. Cordelia loved her.

Farah and Dirk had been doing most of the research on the family, while Todd had been going back and tracing old case files, trying to find a crime or a missing person or an unsolved murder that would otherwise connect with the case. He hadn't found anything, not anything they could confirm at least. Todd reflected on how this had all started. Jane Oliver had stumbled into the agency one day, clutching a yellowed composition notebook and trembling a bit, explaining that she had seen a crime, a murder, as a child. She had blacked it out and forgotten it until now, but going back through her diaries, she had found her recounting of the crime. It was dark, she explained, so she couldn't really tell them who or what. She thought it was a man--or maybe a boy. It was someone with a small build, and they were attacking another person brutally. She couldn't remember what happened after that, just terror, sheer terror.

They had a murder to solve. With no evidence of the murder having actually happened besides a child's diary. No suspects, no victims, nothing. Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency gladly took the case.

The crime had taken place in the backyard of this family property, Halloween ten years ago, when Jane was only six. At least, she said, according to her diary. Her memories of that Halloween were all jumbled--something about her family, lots of yelling, some sort of dispute. And the crime, the attack that she could only remember that she forgot.

"Max?" Cordelia asked. "Who are our other new guests?"

"I don't know, Mother," Max answered evenly. "Why don't you ask Lenny? Or Jane?"

Cordelia narrowed her eyes and focused her gaze on Lenny. "Leonard?"

"Geezy, m'am," Lenny sighed. "I invited Dirk here as a plus one."

"You're already a plus one!" she shrieked. "And what about these other two?"

"Todd is my plus-one!" Dirk chirped.

"A plus one can't invite another plus one who invites his own plus one!"

"Ah," Dirk said quickly, "but wouldn't me having invited my own plus one make us our own set of guests?"

"Daniel, do you know these men?" Cordelia demanded.

"A bit," Daniel said without looking up from his phone.

"And what about this woman? Who the hell is she?"

"Ah," Jane said softly. "Mother, I invited her." After Dirk had determined who was accepting what invitation, they had reached out to Jane to tell her about Farah, not wanting there to be any mix up. They had decided on a brief backstory and that was that.

"Who is she?" Cordelia demanded.

"She's a school tutor. She tutors me and some of my friends in the library," Jane answered evenly. Todd wondered if they should at all be concerned about what ease and grace their client was able to lie through their teeth. But really, he thought, that was what they were all doing. They had no reason to be at that party.

Cordelia Oliver knew that.

She was a queen surveying her kingdom, and she was not pleased with what she saw. Todd felt himself holding his breath, ready to be kicked out at any second. To his surprise, she sighed, deciding this battle was not worth fighting today. "Fine," she said. "You can stay. You're lucky the party kit I bought comes with extra characters."

"Party Kit?" Todd said, feeling any ounce of relief of not being kicked out dissipate.

The Olivers had a tradition, a tradition that went back for at least the last eight years, maybe more. They would every Halloween have a murder mystery themed party. They would purchase a "party kit," either from an online retailer, or, some years when they felt particularly excited, commissioned from a friend. The kit would give each guest at the party a character and a few clues. In the course of three rounds they would develop their characters, discover and investigate a "murder," and have the murderer finally revealed in the third and final round. It was truly perfect for a family of actors, though as the kids grew up and her husband passed away, it was something Cordelia clung onto more than anyone else. The schitick was getting old. But she wouldn't let go.

Cordelia started passing out envelopes with character names on them. "You all know how the game goes," she said, a stage voice taking over, complete with pause for dramatic effect. "Tonight, one of us will die. Tonight, one of us will kill. Tonight, we will all solve a murder." Jane looked white as a sheet hearing her mother's words and looked to Dirk. Dirk smiled back at her reassuredly.

"We have a few extra guests tonight," Cordelia continued, handing an envelope to Adrianna and another one to Max. "Let us hope they survive the night."

"God, Mother," Daniel said, continuing to focus on Candy Crush rather than the manila envelope he'd been slipped. "There's no need to be so melodramatic."

Cordelia paused and looked at him with stony eyes. "Tonight," she said, "we are all actors. Whether we like it or not." Lenny smiled at his boyfriend encouragingly, reminding him it wouldn't be too bad. Daniel glared back at him. He knew this tradition far too well and was not pleased to put on a performance for his mother’s sake.

"Great!" Dirk said, happily accepting his envelope. "So, how does the game work exactly?"

"There are three rounds," Max said, walking away from the wall to behind the sofa his mother sat at. "Round one, we all open our envelope and look at our character and the clues we are given. We mingle as the characters, deciding whether or not we want to share our clues with the others."

"Round two!" Cordelia jut in. "Someone will have instructions telling them they will 'die.' After their 'death' occurs we will have another round in which to mingle and see if we can discover which of us might've had the motive to 'kill.'"

"I feel as though we've grown out of this, mother," Daniel said. "It's just glorified Mafia. When will you give it up already?"

"I find it very fun, Daniel," Cordelia snapped. "It's the least you could do for your poor mother."

Daniel sighed.

"And what about the third round?" Farah asked lightly.

"Third round, we open this envelope," Cordelia said, holding up an envelope that. Unlike the manila ones she had handed out, was a deep red. "It has the answers in it. Then we will find out who was right and who was wrong and who was the killer."

"What a dreadful and yet surprisingly delightful game!" Dirk enthused. Cordelia narrowed her eyes at him.

"Quite," she said. "Now, let the games begin."

Everyone began opening their envelopes. Todd ripped the top off of his, wondering how this was in any way going to help them solve the case. Had Dirk known they were going to play this game? He gave Farah a look, who seemed just as lost as him. She shrugged and went back to reviewing the papers from in her envelope.

Todd reviewed his envelope. He was playing as a character called “Mr. Red,” an older gentleman who was a banker. The only clues he was given was that he suspected Mr. Yellow, one of his bank’s employees, of fraud, and that his character saw Madame Orange and Mrs. Indigo discussing something in hushed voices on his way home from work one day. Todd grimaced. They were really about to play live-action Clue.

"Todd." Todd jumped up in surprise as Dirk slipped up next to him. "You know I'm not one for a classical approach," Dirk said, keeping his voice hushed, "but I must admit this situation compels oneself to do some very non-holistic detecting."

"Wouldn't the fact that the situation has arisen at all make it holistic?" Todd pointed out.

"Ah! Great assisting, Todd, or should I say," Dirk looked down at Todd's papers and then back up at him with a pleasant smile, "Mr. Red."

"You're excited for this, aren't you?"

"Quite! But seriously, Todd. Please consider trying to use this as an opportunity to ask key questions that seem like they're about the game but are actually about our investigation."

"Dirk, we still barely have any idea of what we're investigating," Todd sighed.

"Having time set aside to mingle and interrogate should help then!" he replied before disappearing into the room.

"Let round one," announced Cordelia Oliver, "begin!"

Todd sighed, feeling out of his depth. He looked around the room, seeing that people had already begun to talk quietly and exchange clues amongst themselves. The one person left by themselves besides Todd at this point was Daniel Oliver.

Todd sat down next to him. "Sherlock abandoned you, ey, Watson?" Daniel asked, raising an eyebrow but looking otherwise completely disinterested in the appearance of a new person in his vicinity.

Todd laughed nervously. "Dirk? Ah. Well. He's playing the game, same as all of us." He swallowed. "So... what's your character?"

"Mr. Maroon," Daniel said with a slight roll of his eyes.

"I'm Mr. Red," Todd said.

"Practically the same names," Daniel complained. "I know there aren't that many colors in the rainbow, but they could've come up with a better theme. Colors? Mysteries? Incredibly overdone, if you ask me."

"You'd know better than myself," Todd said.

Daniel snorted. "I know far too well. Do you want my clues?"

"Sure," Todd said. "Are you just supposed to give them to people like that?"

"Not if you want the game to be harder," Daniel said. "But I'd rather this be done as quickly as possible. So my character doesn't trust Mr. Yellow or Mrs. Grey."

"I also suspect Mr. Yellow," Todd admitted.

"And it's supposed to be a mystery." Daniel shook his head.

"You've done a lot of these, then?" Todd said.

"Every year. Since what feels like forever. Mother has gotten persistently more annoying about it since Dad died." Daniel looked resentful. "She can't let go of it."

"That must be hard for your family," Todd said.

"Maybe for them," Daniel replied evenly. "I'm glad he's dead."

“Oh.” Todd said. "You don't feel like you're one of them, then?"

"No. I don't want to act. I don't want to be the center of attention. All of them are hardworking attention whores. I truly feel like this tradition is the pinnacle of that. It makes me feel sick."

Todd felt his stomach curl in an uncomfortable way. "You should be careful," he said.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "What, are you going to impart some wise-wisdom on me? I don't care. I don't even know you."

"You're right," Todd said, trying to ignore the feeling that he needed to get Daniel off of the track he was on, lest he fall into the same self-destructive hole of lies that Todd did when he was his age.

"I'm sure you think I'm ungrateful and selfish. But they're cruel to me. And they don't like Lenny either."

"No?"

"No. They hate him even more than me. If I'm a black sheep, he's an entirely different animal to them."

"Five more minutes of round one!" Cordelia shouted from across the room.

Todd stood up from the couch awkwardly. "I should talk to some more people," he said. "Nice to see you, Mr. Maroon."

Daniel rolled his eyes.

Todd wandered around the room, trying to find someone else to talk to, and eventually ended up tapping the shoulder of Adriana Waye, who had been standing by herself in the corner of the room. She flinched and then turned around, her bright green eyes first looking a bit surprised and then totally disengaged.

"I'm Ms. Grey," she said. "I'm Madame Orange’s maid, working for her and her daughter, Mrs. Indigo, and her son-in-law, Mr. Yellow. And you?"

"I'm Mr. Red," he replied. "Uh... I'm a banker."

"The bank owner?" she said quickly. "The man who owns the bank Mr. Yellow works at?"

"I think so," he said.

"Hmm," she said, and Todd got a very distinct feeling that she did not like him at all, although he could not tell if the impression came from her acting or real judgement she was imparting on him.

"I, uh... I think Mr. Yellow is committing bank fraud," Todd said lamely, looking at his notes.

"Would you kill him if he was?" she said, her blue eyes hard and intense.

"What?" Todd said, shrinking back.

"In the game,” she said, her gaze softening slightly. “Obviously.”

"Oh," Todd said. "Wouldn't it be strange for me to suspect myself? I mean, wouldn't that kind of defeat the point?" He paused. "And we don't know Mr. Yellow is going to be the one to die, yet!"

Adrianna looked across the room at Max. "Mr. Yellow is certainly going to be the one to die," she said. "You’ll see."

"How do you know?"

"It's the way these games always work," she said. "God, who invited you again? Have you really never done this before?" Todd shook his head and Adrianna looked exasperated. "Cordelia should've kicked you out."

Todd didn't have a good argument for that. He coughed nervously, feeling weirdly squeamish looking at her dark grey eyes. "So what are your clues?"

She looked absolutely done with him. "You cannot ask me for my clues as yourself. You need to discuss the situation with Ms. Grey as Mr. Red."

"I guess I misunderstood," he said. "You really enjoy the acting part of this, huh?"

"It's a good thing I do," she said. "I'm our theater's biggest star for a reason."

"Cordelia likes you a lot, then?"

Adrianna shrugged. "She likes me. And she loves Max. And Max loves me. It all works out."

"One minute left!" Cordelia shouted. 

Adrianna looked irritated. "I really spent some of my time talking with you, huh?" she said, stalking off before Todd could answer.

Todd slouched, taking a deep breath, looking around the room before making eye contact with Farah and meeting her across the room. "I'm Dr. Violet," Farah explained. "I’m Madame Orange’s physician. And you?"

"Mr. Red," he said. "They seem like an awfully happy family, don't they?"

"Mr. Yellow and Mrs. Indigo? Or the Olivers?"

"The latter. Although the former might be true, too, I'm having a hard time keeping up."

She nodded. "Fictionally and factually miserable in both cases. I have a good feeling about our case, though."

"Yeah?"

"I was talking to Jane. She's sweet, you know? And I think we're very close to cracking the case."

"She didn't do it, though. Right?"

"Oh--no. No. But I think someone here did."

"That doesn't exactly make me feel incredibly comfortable being a party crasher here."

"That's the end of round one!" Cordelia shouted.

Dirk noticed Farah and Todd talking together and walked over to them enthusiastically. "Well!" he announced. "I'm not sure what I just learned, but I definitely learned something, which will definitely help solve one, if not two, cases! It's true one has a bit more importance to it, but I'd like to think that in solving our fictional case we'll solve--"

Dirk was cut off by a loud scream from across the room. Max Oliver let out another large cry, holding his hand to his chest, before having his knees buckle underneath him, falling down on his knees, letting out a final sob before collapsing on the floor.

"Oh my god," Farah said.

Cordelia walked over to where her son lay sprawled across the floor and then looked up across the others in the room. "A murder," she said. "Has been committed. Mr. Yellow is dead." Adrianna gave Todd a pointed looking from across the room, her hazel eyes piercing. Todd looked away.

"How ghastly," Dirk said with some enthusiasm. "What a wonderful performance."

Max sat up from his place on the floor and beamed. "Thank you," he said, fangs sticking out.

"Now, for round two," Cordelia announced. "Max will not be able to participate. You must talk amongst yourselves and try to discover which one of you is the killer. We will have ten minutes. Let round two... begin!"

"Alright," Todd said. "I suppose we should get back to mingling..." He looked over to see Dirk's eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. "Dirk?"

"Todd," he said quietly. "Farah. I have the strangest feeling the case of Mr. Yellow is much more tied to our case than we'd thought."

"How so?" Farah asked.

"I'm not quite sure," he said. "Let us try and discover who killed Mr. Yellow. And perhaps that will reveal it to us."

The three nodded and scattered across the room.

Todd found himself in the unfortunate position of being under the immediate scrutiny of Cordelia Oliver.

"I," she announced, "am Madame Orange. I'm afraid we've never had the chance of meeting before."

"Mr. Red," he said shortly. "Banker, Mr. Yellow's boss, I think."

"Ah, yes," she said, face sorrow clouding his face. "My son-in-law’s employer. Isn’t it tragic what has happened to Mr. Yellow?"

Actors, Todd thought, are insane.

"Right," Todd said. "Erm, do you have any idea who... killed him?"

His willingness to play along seemed to please Cordelia. She raised an eyebrow playfully. "I have some idea," she said. "He had a few enemies. I heard," she leaned in, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone, "he owed some people money. Would you know anything about that? As the banker?"

"Oh," Todd said, trying to remember if he did. "Uh, no. I don't think I knew that. Although I..." he paused, grabbing his notes and looking them over. "I suspected him of committing some sort of fraud."

"Hmm!" she said. "Fraud at the bank isn't a good look for you. Do you think that could stir yourself to kill?"

"Uh--no?" Todd frowned. "I guess I don't know. Am I supposed to defend myself?"

Cordelia seemed disappointed at his breaking character. "It's up to you," she said tightly. "But if you've killed someone, we'll find out in the end, when we open the envelope with the answers to the case."

"Oh," he said. "Well--I guess I don't think Mr. Red, er, me, did it." He paused a beat. "And... why didn't you do it?" he asked, knowing giving Cordelia an excuse to talk should lighten her up.

"Mr. Yellow was my daughter Indigo’s husband! I loved him as if he were my own son. I wouldn’t lay a hand on him unless he did something to hurt my daughter.” 

"But what if he did?” Todd pointed out. He looked at his notes. “I saw you discussing something with Mrs. Indigo the day before his death. That doesn’t look particularly good for you, Madame Orange."

"You don't look unsuspicious yourself, Mr. Red. Although I don't think you killed Mr. Yellow."

"No?"

"No. You don't have it in you."

Cordelia turned on her heel and went away to talk to someone else, and Todd felt weirdly stung by her harsh assessment of his fictional banker self.

He wandered across the room, trying to find someone to talk to. He walked past Max and Adrianna who were talking in hushed tones in a language that didn't sound familiar to him. He decided not to interrupt them and turned around, nearly running into Jane Oliver.

"Oh dear," she said. "I am very sorry, Mr. Todd."

"It's okay!" he reassured her. "And tonight, I'm Mr. Red."

She nodded. "I'm Mrs. Indigo." She sighed. "I'm Mr. Yellow's wife, apparently. A bit awkward, I think, for several reasons."

Todd smiled. "Fair enough. I am--or was?--his employer at the bank. I suspected him of fraud. Would you know anything about that?"

"The only way Mr. Yellow was ever a fraud or a phoney was in real life, Mr. Red," she sighed, playing into her character lightly. "I do believe he was having the most awful affair with Mrs. Grey."

"I suppose that made your character--you, I mean--pretty upset."

"Yes." She sighed. "I think it's likely I did it. Or--Mr.s Grey’s husband, Mr. Maroon."

"It's kind of funny suspecting yourself."

"I think it makes the most sense," she said evenly, then in a lower voice, "thank you, by the way. Dirk said you and Farah have been invaluable in helping with..." She looked around. "...with a case."

Had he been helpful? Had any of them been helpful? Todd felt as though he was getting nowhere, stuck in a sludge of clues and names and characters and confusing bits in the middle. He wasn't sure he had done anything effective to help Jane Oliver. He thought about denying her claim, telling her to take it back, telling her that her impression wasn't true. But he swallowed it in his throat. Be nice, Todd.

"You're welcome," he said. "We're trying our best. To solve..." he paused, and added, feeling kind of silly, "...Mr. Yellow's murder." That made the girl laugh, which pleased him.

"Speaking of Dirk," Adrianna said, "here comes Mr. Green." Dirk approached the two of them, grinning brightly.

"Todd! Jane!" he addressed them both with enthusiasm. "I've got half a mind that this is going somewhere!"

"I sure hope so," Todd said.

"I'm glad you think that," Jane said with her shy smile. "I think I'm going to go try to talk to Adrianna." She made a face. "Tell me what you find, later?"  she asked Dirk.

"Of course," he promised, waving at her as she made her way across the room. "Todd!" he turned to Todd, his deerstalker hat flopping in front of his eyes. He pushed up the rim. "I think I've found out my motive for killing Mr. Yellow!"

"That's great, Dirk, but.... what? Do you think your character killed him?"

"Oh, no," he said quickly. "I'm Mr. Green, by the way, if I hadn't mentioned it to you. And I don't think it's awfully likely I am the killer, but I love my brother Mr. Maroon a lot, and his wife Mrs. Grey cheated on him with her employer Mr. Yellow!" Dirk sounded enthralled. "The way this game is played is absolutely fascinating, wouldn't you say? I think we should definitely buy one of these for the office during holidays."

"Dirk," Todd said, "there are three of us who work in the office. And... Mona sometimes. I don't think that's enough people."

Dirk frowned. "I guess not."

"Do you have any idea who actually killed Mr. Yellow? Or... about the other thing?"

"No," Dirk admitted. "Well, maybe. There's so many different threads in this game. And it's not exactly... how I do detecting. I think you or Farah would have a better idea, quite honestly. I’ve had a very fun time getting into character and developing Mr. Green, though. I wasn't given much, so I gave him a new profession! I've decided he works for the secret--"

"Dirk," Todd cut him off. "We need to focus. Right?"

Dirk looked a bit put out. "Can't hurt to have a bit of fun, too."

Todd backtracked. "Sure, of course, but I think we're running out of time to investigate--"

"End of round three!" Cordelia announced loudly. The chattering continued. "End! Of round three!" she holler. This time, a hush fell across the room.

"Everyone," she said, her voice commanding the space, "let's gather round in a circle and discuss our theories of who killed Mr. Yellow." She stood behind where Max sat on the couch and put her hands on his shoulders protectively. The party goers made their way to the couches and chairs situated in a nice circle around the coffee table. Once everyone had settled down, Cordelia smiled, although she continued to stand behind Max instead of sitting in the circle herself.

"If someone can say who killed Mr. Yellow and why, with certain accuracy, they win the game." Cordelia held up a bright magenta envelope. "Once everyone has given their input, we'll open the envelope and see who was really the killer. If you are accused of being the murderer, you may defend yourself if you think someone else has done it. Now who would like to start?"

Todd felt Dirk beside him tense in excitement. He wondered if this did have any connection to the case they were here to solve, or if it was a red herring, a detour that would eventually lead them somewhere completely different in order to actually solve the case.

"I'll start," said Adrianna. "I think Mrs. Indigo did it."

Jane frowned. “My character? I guess I don’t think it’s entirely impossible I did…”

“You found out Mr. Yellow was hiding some things from you,” Adrianna said. “Including his affair… with me, Mrs. Grey. So you killed him.”

“Jane?” Cordelia asked. “Do you have someone else you think could’ve done it?”

“I think Mr. Maroon would’ve had half a motive, for the same reason as I.”

“Leave me out of it,” Daniel groaned. “I think it was… uh…” He looked around the room, seemingly trying to pick someone else to become the scrutiny of the conversation. “Madame Orange. She found out Yellow cheated on her daughter.” He shrugged. “She’d be as mad as anyone else.”

Cordelia pursed her lips. “That’s assuming I even knew about the affair. Perhaps I didn't even know until he died! How would you know?”

“Everyone wanted to kill Mr. Yellow,” Dirk muttered to Todd.

“Madame Orange was angry after her check up with Dr. Violet before the murder happened,” Farah pointed out. “Although she didn’t say why. It could’ve been about the affair.”

“Everyone wanted to kill Mr. Yellow!” Dirk said again, sounding surprised. Todd looked at him and he grinned back. 

“I was upset because my gardener, Mr. Turquoise, had quit in a huff.”

“You fired me!” Lenny butted in. Todd realized he’d barely spoken to half of the people playing the game, feeling suddenly like he’d shown up for a test he hadn’t studied for. “And I certainly didn’t kill Mr. Yellow!”

“Alright,” said Cordelia. “But I deny that I did. I still find Mr. Maroon awfully suspicious.”

Daniel glowered at his mother. “If you won’t admit it, I’ll accuse someone else. Like….” He looked around the room. “...my brother. Mr. Green.”

Dirk smiled. “It could have been me,” he said. “I love my brother, Mr. Maroon. I found out Mr. Yellow was having an affair with his wife. And I felt this was an affront to my family. But I think we are focused much too narrowly on the what and the why. In fact,” he said. “I think we are far too focused on this game.”

“Too focused on the game?” Lenny said. “Isn’t that the point of the final round?”

“The point of the final round,” Dirk said confidently, “is to find out who killed Mr. Yellow and Max Oliver.”

“Oh,” Todd said softly. Dirk had solved it. 

“I am Mr. Yellow,” Max said.

"Exactly! So the question we have to answer," Dirk continued, "is who killed Max Oliver. I, of course, have my own theories, but I would like to share last. Mrs. Cordelia. I still find you a bit suspect. Why don't you tell us again why you aren't the killer?"

Cordelia stiffened in offense. "Why am I not the killer? You must be kidding me! I just went over this. I wouldn’t hurt my own son!"

"Ah, but perhaps Max wasn't the child you wanted. And neither was Daniel. And neither was Jane. You wanted a child who was a star, Mrs. Oliver. And you knew you'd never get that if you didn't intervene yourself."

Adrianna narrowed her eyes. "He knows this is a game, right? We aren’t our characters."

Dirk's eyes lit up. "Ah! And Adrianna Waye. What an interesting piece of this puzzle you are."

Adrianna shifted uncomfortably. "Don’t even bother accusing me of killing him. I was the one who was having an affair with him. I was one of his only allies. It wouldn’t make sense."

"No, you're right," Dirk agreed. "It wouldn’t make sense. Besides that, a lady such as yourself seems unlikely to get her hands dirty with murder." He paused. "She'd make someone else do it."

Adrianna turned to Max and laughed. "What is he talking about? This isn't connected to the game at all."

"You know what it's about--"

"Ah!" Farah cut in. "I have a theory. Did Lenny's character actually do it? Mr. Turquoise was Madame Orange’s gardener, so maybe he saw something at the house, like the affair. Blackmail gone wrong type situation."

Dirk nodded. "Lenny seems a bit suspicious, doesn't he?" He looped around the living room, ending behind Lenny's chair. "Lenny, what do you have to say to that?"

"I don't know,” Lenny said. “I don't think my character ever actually interacted Max, though, did he?"

"Exactly," Dirk said. "Lenny is too much of an outsider. He might not like Max, but there was no reason he would want to kill him. He wasn't even present at the crime scene. Now, Daniel, however..."

"Wouldn't it be my luck to pick the character who's the killer three years in a row?" Daniel sulked, shooting his mother a look.

"Of course Daniel could have been jealous of Max. Jealous of how his mother adored him and doted on him. But... that doesn't explain why he would kill him." Dirk turned to Jane. "Do you understand what I'm getting at, Miss Jane?"

Jane's eyes widened. "But I still don't understand! Who--who did I see die on that night?"

“Who did you see die on what night?” Cordelia turned to her daughter, her eyes narrowed. “Jane, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Sorry, mother,” Jane whispered softly. “But yes. Ten years ago, I saw a murder.” Dirk gave Farah a small nod and Farah quietly moved to block the one door that led out of the study. Todd moved towards the window, having a strong feeling that any possible exit was soon going to quickly need to be blocked. Jane continued, “These people have been trying to help me solve the murder, mother. But… But I don’t know who did it, or who even died…” She trailed off, looking small and lost in her big velvet chair.

“You’re detectives?” Cordelia demanded. 

"Indeed,” Dirk said. “Quite a good disguise, right? Now, Jane, the person you saw being murdered on that night was your brother, Max."

"But that's absurd!" Cordelia burst out. "Max is right here!" Max stood behind his mother, his expression stony.

"That," Dirk pointed to Max, "is certainly someone going by the name Max and living his life as if he were Max Oliver. But that is not your biological son, Max Oliver. He was killed on this day, ten years ago, in your back garden."

"Don't be absurd," Max cut in, his voice cold and stiff. "You've been talking nonsense all night."

"Have you ever," Dirk said, "met an actor who was so incredible that sometimes you didn't even know they were acting?" Todd got the very distinct feeling Dirk was thinking of Mona. "I have. And I will tell you this much. When someone who is talented enough chooses to not be found, they won't be."

"You're crazy," Max said. "You have no proof."

"Alright," Dirk said. "Maybe I'm wrong. Then answer me this. How come you and Adrianna talk in a language no one has ever heard when you think you're alone?"

"What?"

“Oh!” Todd cut in. "And is that why Adrianna’s eye color shifts so dramatically? I wasn’t imagining that?"

"People's eye color can shift--"

"Not from light blue to deep brown they can't,” Dirk said, nodding at Todd. 

Max snorted. "Just because you're dressed as a detective doesn't mean you can say whatever you'd like and expect it to go over."

"Alright," Dirk said. "Let me read from this journal," Dirk said, reaching into his trenchcoat and pulling out a copy of Jane's diary that they had photocopied and brought along. Todd hadn't realized Dirk’s intentions in bringing the copy along--but he wasn’t sure Dirk had known until this exact moment, either. 

"’October 31st, 2008,’" Dirk read aloud. "’Dear Diary, Today I saw something very frightening. It was during the Halloween party, I went out in the back garden to get a bit of fresh air and because everyone was very loud. When I was out there, I thought I heard someone screaming. I thought maybe it was one of my brothers, and so I ran. I saw a figure in the dark standing over someone else, but when I got to where I saw their silhouettes across the garden, they were gone. I saw something I thought could've been blood or beer or water but it was too dark to see. I'll go and see if it's still there tomorrow. I don't know what I saw. I went inside and told mama and papa about it. Papa joked that I'd seen a ghost on Halloween. I don't know. Love, Jane.’"

"I know who Jane saw that night," said Dirk. He pointed at Max. "She saw you. And she saw her brother, Max."

"I am her brother Max," Max replied evenly.

"Oh please," Dirk said. "Will you give that up already? You may live as Maxwell Oliver but you were at least not born that way. You weren't born in this town, or, quite frankly, even this planet."

"What're you going to do about it?" Adrianna said, rising to her feet.

"Adrianna," Max snapped. "Sit down."

"I'm going to..." Dirk said confidently, and then stopped. "Well, I hadn't really thought of that."

“It’s true,” Jane said softly. Cordelia had stepped away from Max and was now standing behind her daughter. She placed a hand on Jane’s shoulder, looking tense. Jane looked up at Cordelia. “It’s true, mother. It was Max I saw on that night. It must’ve been…”

Max frowned. “Are you really going to believe this, Mother? Believe all this slander about your favorite son?” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve been so good to you… an absolute star, in fact. Don’t tell me you believe some sort of alien-murder plot thought up by a stranger over the word of your own son?”

Cordelia Oliver's eyes clouded over. "I'm not sure, Max."

"I cannot believe this," Max said. Adrianna fidgeted in her chair uncomfortably. "Do you know everything I've given for this family? Everything me and Adrianna have given for you, Mother?"

"What are you?" Dirk asked curiously. "You must be something quite interesting. And..." He paused, his nose bunched up. "...and either undetectable or fifteen years new to this planet."

"We were undetectable," Adrianna said.

"Adrianna!" Max barked. "Will you shut up?"

"Oh, give it up, Max," she said irritably. "He's caught us in our game. Might as well admit it." She turned to Dirk. "You wouldn't really believe it if we were from a different planet."

"I certainly would," he said. "I've come across a fair few extraterrestrials in my time. I don't suppose you communicate through music on your planet?"

"What?" she snapped. "No. Don't be stupid. You were right, we communicate in our own language. And these weren't our original forms." Max glared at her, his lips pursed in determined silence. "But there's no way for you to prove that, you know? That's the best thing about what we are."

"Oh god," Cordelia said, holding her hand over her mouth.

"And what is that?" Dirk asked.

"Can't pronounce it in your language. In fact, you numbskulls hardly have the language to describe it. Leech? Reincarnate? Phoenix?" Adrianna seemed almost pleased by this, as if the fact that she was somewhat undefinable was a final act of rebellion against whatever separated her from them. "The point is," she said, "we take on different forms over our lives. We essentially could live forever--as long as we kill before our vessel dies. When that happens, we take on the form of whatever we last killed."

"Woah," Dirk said.

"What happens to the body?" Farah said, eyeing Max and Adrianna nervously while still guarding the door.

"We become the body," Adrianna said as though it were obvious. "The last vessel we occupied turns to dust once we leave it for good, once there's no use for it anymore."

"And you killed Max and took his body," Jane said softly, looking Max straight in the eyes. Max frowned and looked away.

"What--what now?" Daniel asked nervously, looking between Max and Adrianna. The room was filled with a tense air.

Max sighed, breaking the silence. "This is truly awful," he said, his tone almost bored, "I never wanted it to come to this, and I am very sorry. I did love you, Mother," he said to Cordelia. "Unfortunately..." He reached into his coat pocket, pulling something small and metallic out, "...the two of us will have to kill all of you now that you've discovered our secret."

Max Oliver had a gun. The room broke out into hectic noise. Cordelia screamed, Daniel let out a large stream of profanities, Todd started to argue with Max, and Dirk shouted something about everyone needing to talk this out, please, and not have so much killing all the time. Everyone was on their feet in a few seconds. Todd and Farah exchanged a look, guarding the door and window respectively, not sure if they should run or stand their guard. The only person who remained sitting was Max Oliver.

"No one move!" he barked. "Shut up!" And he was pointing the gun, and the room quickly fell silent. "You see," he said. "You all have made this so hard for me and my dear EtTew0si." He stood up from where he sat and went to the bookshelf, grabbing a candlestick. He handed it to Adrianna who smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

"Now who's first?" Max said, sounding almost bored. Todd gave a sideways glance to Farah and mouthed the word "gun." She shook her head, mouthing back a long sentence. He had forgotten he couldn't read lips.

"Oh Jane," Max said. "Why not you? This whole dilemma is your fault, now, isn't it?"

"It's not my fault," Jane said, trembling but holding her voice steady. "None of this would've happened if you hadn't hurt Max."

Max pursed his lips, ignoring her comment. "Come here, and we'll make this quick and painless," he said.

"No," she said, holding her ground.

Adrianna shoved her forward from behind, pushing her with the end of the candlestick. "Do what he says!" she said.

Jane opened her mouth to make a retort but decided against it. She looked back at the other people in the room, staring hopelessly.

"My dear sister," Max said, pointing the gun at her head. Adrianna stayed behind her, holding the candlestick up. "I am sorry it had to come to this."

"No, you're not," she said, tears forming in her eyes.

"You're right," he laughed. "I'm not."

The next few seconds were a whirlwind. Farah leapt up from her place by the door to in front of Max, grabbing Jane out of the line of fire as Max pulled the trigger. Adrianna, not realizing what had happened before it was too late, didn't dodge and instead was hit squarely in the head with the bullet Max had fired. Adrianna barely had a second to let out a cry of pain before her body turned to dust, drifting down to the floor, lifeless. Max whirled around, still holding his gun, pointing it at Farah and Jane where they sat on the floor. 

"You think you're real smart, huh?" he demanded. "What--"

A bang fired in the room.

Max stopped talking.

Max stopped breathing.

Max fell over onto the floor, fading into a pile of dust.

Across the room, Cordelia Oliver held up her pearl handled pocket purse pistol, smoke still drifting off the tip of the weapon, tears streaking her face.

*

The next week, Jane Oliver visited Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective agency. She knocked lightly before walking into the office. "Hello!" she said.

"Jane Oliver!" Dirk said, his entire face lighting up. He jumped up from his desk. "How are you doing?"

She smiled sadly. "This whole ordeal has been a lot for my family... but I think we are better for it. We've all been trying to understand, of course. But it's brought us closer too."

"I'm glad to hear that," Farah smiled, looking up from her desk. "Thank you for visiting, Jane."

Jane nodded. "I’m to give you these." She passed two envelopes to Dirk.

He looked at her, confused. "What?"

"For the case," she said softly.

"Ms. Jane, I was under the distinct impression that we were not taking payment from you," he said. He passed the envelopes back to her. "In fact, I insist on it. I don't want to take money from you."

She laughed. "It's not from me. It's from my mother. She's going through a lot, as we all are, but she's extremely grateful to you guys." She shrugged. "She didn't actually tell me what was in those. Just to deliver it to you three."

"Well, thank you," Dirk said, surprised, taking the envelopes back from her.

"Yes!" she said. "And thank you guys... for everything. The truth is hard, but I'm glad I know it. And..." she turned to Farah, "thank you for saving my life."

Farah smiled awkwardly. "I mean, yes. Of course. That is... yes. You're welcome."

She beamed at them. "I'll be sure to recommend you guys, although I don't know how many other sixteen year olds have use of a detective agency."

Dirk smiled. "Thank you Jane."

She nodded once more. "Goodbye!" They waved and wished her well and then she was on her way.

"I wonder what Cordelia sent," Todd said.

"Let us see!" Dirk said. “This first envelope is addressed to ‘Dirk Gently & Co.’ Fancy!” He tore the envelope open, pulling it out and looking it over. His eyes widened.

"What?" Farah said.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"I don't think we'll have to worry about agency finances for a while," Dirk said, eyes wide. He passed Farah the check from inside the card. 

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh-kay!” she said. “Well. We should definitely send a thank you note.”

“She wrote a note, too,” Dirk said. He read aloud, “‘Dear Dirk and Company, I never did like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. However, the three of you I found quite tolerable. To think I would’ve lived with and loved an imposter my whole life if not for your agency. Much thanks. Sincerely, Cordelia Oliver.’”

“I guess she’s got a heart under her mean exterior after all,” Todd said.

“‘P.S.,’” Dirk read. “‘I am assuming you will be quiet about the disappearance of my ‘son’ Max. I hope this check more than manages that.’”

“Oh,” Todd said, and Farah laughed. 

“Well!” Dirk said, setting down the card. He smiled at his two friends. “I think that’s another case solved with arguable efficiency.”

“What’s the other envelope?” asked Todd.

“I don’t know…” Dirk looked at it. “She wrote something on the front...  ‘I couldn’t be bothered to open this after what happened. but I thought one of you care want to know more than I. Sincerely, Cordelia.’”

“Oh!” Farah said. “It’s the envelope from the game--the one that has the killer in it.”

“I didn’t even realize we never revealed the fake killer,” Todd said.

“I did,” said Farah. “Open it?”

Dirk nodded, pushing a pencil thru the top, ungracefully breaking the seal. He popped the envelope open and looked inside before pulling out a tiny slip of paper.

“Oh God,” he said, sounding exasperated. “Of bloody course it had to be.” 

Farah raised her eyebrows and he passed her the paper. She looked at it and frowned. “Crazy coincidence, that’s all.”

“Let me see that,” Todd grabbed the paper.

“Farah, nothing ever ends up being mere ‘coincidence’ with me,” Dirk said pointedly. “Ever.”

“Alright, that’s weird,” Todd said, tossing the paper back onto the desk in front of Dirk. The three of them started at the paper for a moment, saying nothing.

“I say we break early for lunch,” Farah broke the silence. “My treat.”

“Avoidance,” Todd said. “I like it.”

“Burgers?” Dirk chimed in. “I love it.”

The three of them stood up and cleared out of the office, turning off the lights and locking the doors to the office. In the now quiet office lay the small slip of tangerine paper on a desk. It read, in plain cursive, Madame Orange is the killer.

*

End

[alkhale]

Lost and Found (Jason Todd x Reader) Ko-fi Request

JASON TODD x new fledging superhero female OC plssssss

I wanted to try to make this one as open as possible because I wanted to give more free reign over the imagination of the hero’s occupation as a hero, but hopefully these work for you! Always love writing for this beautiful, beautiful boy :’)

THE BACKGROUND:

- You have a very interesting choice for occupation as a so-called “hero”

- Within the scope of that title, many brave men and women under that profession might not exactly consider you to be on their… level, per say. Several very, very big names have become only a bit or vaguely aware of your new, bustling presence in Bludhaven, apparently making quick time and moving all the way to Star City or popping up in Metropolis in a single night.

- Villains don’t really know what to do with you. They most leave you alone, to be honest, because they have a feeling dealing with you is just a headache. The only villains that really have any beef with you are big time thieves, and Cat Woman is not happy about your new rising popularity but she’s still staying off your radars for now. (You’re working on her)

- Most heroes advise you to stay home, they’re the ones giving you the most trouble. Small run-ins have them instructing you to go ahead and give up this line of work and perhaps join a local law enforcement or help-group, they think it’s much better for you.

- You, however, are determined, and you’re rather set on doing what you feel is truly your happiest calling.

Jason Todd, currently donning the sleek, reinforced metal of Red Hood’s mask, gave the drug dealer one last good kick to the ribs, listening for the satisfying crack of a few that promised he wasn’t getting up or going anywhere anytime soon.

Goons littered the hallways, their blood spilling over across the walls. The acrid smell of cigars snubbed out by their own fluids flooded the deserted motel hallways. Car lights were punched out in the front of the parking lot of the cheap, off-the-highway motel they’d been hiding out at like a pack of rats. It hadn’t been hard for him to find them, to be honest, a much easier job tonight more than anything. Jason was just a bit pissed off so he let off more steam than usual.

Jason tapped one gun against the side of his mask, a light little thump thump as he set his hand on his hip, surveying his work. He’d dump the cash in a fucking river. It was blood money and he had better things to do then get his hands on it. He’d rather just break another ATM. Fuck, I’m still pissed off. I should get Thai tonight.

Normally, Jason had a very nice, selective choice of arsenal on his person. Guns he’d tuned up and had tricked out. Nice, pretty things that never failed him. Classic knives, the works, he liked having options. 

Jason let out an aggravated sigh, muffled through his mask. He scowled, kicking another limp body for emphasis and turning, wiping some blood off the corner of his jacket. 

His fucking problem was that one of his pretty, nice little guns was missing. Gone. Lost. He was one hundred-fucking-percent sure it was his last job in Bludhaven after tangling up with Dickie Bird and having to scram before he received any kind of dark tongue lashing from Bats or the Demon Spawn pulled some sick shit like pulling Alfred up on speaker again to discuss his misdemeanors. Like the little shit can talk. Jason had come scrounging back, searching through the dockyard left and right for his gun and found nothing. Nada. 

He really liked that gun too.

Have to put in an order for a new one. Jason rubbed the top of his mask, hooking his fingers to prepare taking it off. What a pain. Thai it is. I’m starving—

“Hi! Excuse me, but is this your gun?”

Jason stopped.

It took him a second to process what he was seeing. Only a second, because he sensed no blood thirst or killing intent—he still cocked his gun and pointed it at the newcomer without a single hesitation though because what the hell, right?—and he needed that good second because even quick footed, always adaptable, always moving Jason needed that fat second to understand what the fuck was in front of him.

Halfway through what appeared to be some kind of… portal? It was the weirdest fucking portal he’d ever seen and he’d seen some weird fucking portals. A bright yellow, piss yellow, stretching in a warped, warbling kind of flame in the middle of the air, as though cutting straight through dimensions. Jason could get a peek of something behind. A city? He sniffed the air. A dock?

In the middle of the portal, with one, combat booted foot out, was a slender leg covered in black tights. Black tights led to a black fitted top that was clad by a… a construction vest? A neon green construction vest. Over her face—he assumed her because of the body and hair, but who the hell was he to know, right?—was a weird mask of a man, like some kind of religious figure, covering her entire face. Her hair was pulled back into two buns on either side of her head.

In one bare hand, held out to him by this new person in the middle of a piss yellow portal, was his gun.

Jason stared.

“Sorry, I know, this must look strange, right?” you quickly apologized, stepping fully out of the portal. It disappeared and you now stood before him, mask and stupid construction vest and his gun. “Here! This should be yours unless…”

You trailed off, mask looking pointedly at the bodies scattered around them. “Oh, unless it’s one of these guys’s. Sorry about that.”

“What the fuck?” Jason said, rough through his mask. He still had the gun pointed at you.

You beamed behind your own. “I come in peace! Just trying to return this. Found it in the dock by… Fifth? It was glowing, so that meant someone was looking for it—”

“Hold on,” Jason waved his gun at you for emphasis. You nodded at it, waving his gun back. Jason almost laughed. Who the fuck is this clown? “I’ll ask you two questions. Just two. Depending how you answer, I’m going to shoot you, got it?”

“Oh,” you said, sounding a bit sullen. You glanced at your watch. “Will this take long? I have two more deliveries.”

“No,” Jason said. “Depending on how you answer.”

“...okay, shoot,” you said. You paused, quickly holding a hand when Jason raised his gun. “Sorry, I meant figuratively, please. Ask the questions.”

Jason cocked his masked head to the side. “Who the fuck are you. Why the fuck do you have my gun.”

“I feel like those weren’t phrased as questions—”

Jason shot at your feet. You yelped, jumping up. “Jeez! Is this what I get for doing a good deed? Saint Anthony! I’m Saint Anthony!”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “And I’m Jesus fucking Christ.”

Jason prepared to shoot your kneecap out and you squawked, tossing the gun his way. Jason quickly caught it, inspecting it for any damage before narrowing his eyes at you behind his mask. You wiped your hands off your pants like brushing off germs. 

“That’s my alias,” you said, tapping your mask, a pious man’s face printed over it. “Saint Anthony! You know, the patron saint of lost things? The guy you pray to when you lose shit?”

“Do I look like I pray?” Jason said, pointing his gun to the drug dealer whose brains he’d blasted out. You made a small noise, as though just noticing.

“Well, you never know. Met some strange folks who pray and still do some very questionable things—let’s not get hasty!” Jason put his gun down. “That’s my codename! Have to be careful with this hero business, you know. I felt like it fits because of my power.”

You pointed to his gun and it began to glow a soft piss yellow. Jason dropped it in disgust, pulling his other gun back up and getting ready to shoot you. “I can see what items are lost! If an item belongs to someone and they’re looking for it, it’ll glow and I can see it like that. Then I pick it up and it teleports me to whoever it belongs to.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Jason said. “You’re a human lost and found?”

“Yes! But much more effective,” you reached into a sack you had strapped to your back, opening it up for him to see where several more objects were glowing a piss yellow. “I decided I should put my talents to use, so I go around returning lost objects. Everybody loses something once in a while, you know? The other day I found this strange looking little USB and it turned out it belonged to Lex Luthor’s secretary and oh, boy, that was a sticky situation when Mr. Superman came and—”

Jason shot at your feet again. You jumped, clutching the sack protectively to your chest. “What the hell was that for?”

“I just felt like it,” Jason said. He tucked his gun back into his strap and picked up his now found weapon, inspecting it curiously. “Weird fucking power, sweetheart.”

You shrugged in a what-can-you-do manner.

“You said you were a hero?”

“Oh, more of a good samaritan,” you said, waving a hand. “I’ve just been working with the police lately on stolen goods. Sometimes burglars are real clumsy and drop items, you know? Apparently night vision goggles are very expensive so they’re always looking for those.”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. Jason watched you in idle interest, having a bit of fun with this interaction. Been a while since he met anyone so fucking weird. He kind of liked it.

“Anthony, huh?”

“Yes!” you slung your sack back over your shoulder, sticking out a hand to him. “It’s very nice to meet you…?”

Jason tapped his gun against your palm in greeting. He tucked it back into its holster, giving you a long look behind his mask. You stopped, cocking your head at him. “What?”

“No, it’s just…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “Ah, nothing really. If we’re all squared away here, you mind if I take off? I’ve still got this pair of chain cutters and this funny looking stone to deliver.”

“You ever worry you’re delivering it to some weird place?” Jason said. “Or to someone who, I dunno, might kill you?”

“Oh, all the time,” you said cheerfully. “But usually I can take care of myself.” Jason quirked a brow behind his mask. “But thank you for your concern! I’ll be off then, Mr. Red. Thanks for your cooperation!”

You grabbed the funny shaped rock from the bag, a piss yellow portal appearing in front of you. Jason watched wordlessly as you stepped halfway through before turning back to him, raising a small hand in a little wave.

“Live a good life, Mr. Red!” you waved harder. “If you ever lose anything again, I’ll be sure to look out for it!”

Jason offered a lazy wave back, kicking a goon in the head who’d started to rouse.

You curled your fingers into your palm. The portal began to swallow you whole and you watched behind your mask as Jason turned, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You figured for this particular customer, perhaps it was better not to say he was glowing a very beautiful, very somber shade of yellow.

Looks like whoever lost you is looking very hard for you, Mr. Red.

[imagines-dreams]

A Good Name - Tim Drake Imagine

Rating: PG

Warnings: fluff and future, and a flustered Robin

Summary: As a part of Young Justice, you have seen a lot of weird things. But being called (Y/n) Drake was by far the weirdest thing. (Aka I read a fic that I can’t remember the name of where Impulse called reader Mrs. Grayson and I took inspo from that idea to make one for Tim! Someone, aka @despitealldoubts-blog found the fic so here it is! Future Mrs. G by @cait-writes-stuff inspired this!)

Word Count: 2785

“Stand ready,” Nightwing commanded.

The four of you readied yourselves as the unknown source or ball of electricity formed and dropped a transportation device of some kind. It dropped right onto the floor, smoking and whirring, and when smoke billowed out of it, someone jumped out.

“Ta da!” A boy, bright red hair, white and red outfit with a yellow visor. You didn’t recognize him from any database you’ve seen. Not a notable hero or villain. Maybe a hacker or inventor, from the looks of the machine. Could be a thief, an aspiring supervillain, or just a big fan of superheroes.

The alarm went off. “Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert.”

“Computer, lock down cave,” Nightwing said.

Gar tilted his head. “Well, I think we found our unknown energy impulse.”

“Impulse,” the stranger mulled it over. “That’s so crash! Catchy, dramatic, one word.” He appeared by Nightwing’s side. “Like Nightwing.”

A speedster!

“And Robin.”

To you, “And Knockout.”

To Gar, “And Beast Boy.” He blinked.”‘Well, that’s two words.” He talked even faster, and soon, he was trying to explore the cave to find things. With a laugh and a mock salute, he was gone.

“You three, take him down.”

“On it, Nightwing!” you responded. You cracked your knuckles and ran alongside Robin and Beast Boy. You caught him in a hallway and with a smirk, you punched the ground. It splintered under your strength. He wouldn’t be able to run.

And you were wrong. Impulse, whatever his name was, ran up the wall and over your head, back to safer and sturdier ground. You groaned. Nightwing was not going to be happy.

Robin sped out from the kitchen, just to trip on some dispelled tile.

You giggled. It was worth it.

Robin stared at you. “Nightwing’s gonna kill you.”

You shrugged. “Nah, I’m good. It’s nice to see you fall on your ass, Robin. Shouldn’t you have wings or something?”

“Guys, come back,” Nightwing said. “I’ve got him.”

Your jaw dropped. “How…” You shook your head.

Robin laughed and patted your shoulder. “Come on.”

As Impulse explained himself, you grew more and more confused. Time travel was theoretica, and no one could agree on what would happen if it was achieved. Does time travel work so that what you do in the past is actually what happened in the past, like time travel was meant to happen and was accounted for in a neat timeline. Or, was there different timelines, and if so, does the previous timeline disappear or does it become an alternate universe all on its own.

You pressed your fingers against your temples. This was just a tad too much.

“So,” Robin concluded, “you’re a tourist from the future.”

“Why look so surprised. Half the meat at Comic Con are from my era.”

Robin rubbed his chin, and you knew that face. He was doubting the information he got. Trying to find the tells of a lie.

You crossed your arms. “If you’re from the future, you should be able to prove it.”

“Ah, well, my identity is kinda a tell, if you know what I mean. Superspeed, the red and gold.” He smiled up at all of you. “I’m Bart Allen, grandson of Barry Allen. You know, the Flash, Barry Allen.”

“Noted.” Garfield smirked. “Not believed, but noted.”

“What’s not to believe? I’ve got it all! The speed, the amazing good looks.” Impulse’s eyes lit up. “Frankly, I can’t wait to meet him. You know, back when he was still in his prime and all.”

Nightwing sighed. “Well, Bart, coming all the way from the future, you must have worked up a thirst.” He brought a cup of water to the intruder. Tracker, no doubt.

“Thanks!”He sipped the water. “Oh! Ah, you’re trying to get my DNA!” he spat into the water. “That’s such a Dick Grayson move.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “How did…” He looked at his mentor, and Nightwing, or well Dick, just stared at him, trying to figure it out himself.

“Aha! See, I know things that only someone from the future with an amazing Flash legacy to carry would know.” He looked at each of you, and without pause, said, “Dick Grayson, (Y/n) and Tim Drake, Garfield Logan.”

You bit your tongue. That was not your name. Your name was (Y/n) (Y/l/n), not (Y/n) Drake. And Tim? As in Robin’s name was Tim. Tim Drake? Your eyes caught his, Tim’s, and thank god for Garfield, because he spoke before the two of you could stutter about what just happened.

“Your name’s Tim? And your is, uh, Dick?” Garfield cringed.

You smiled as much as you can, and with heat still blooming in your cheeks, you laughed. “Gar, your name is Garfield, like that cat who hates Mondays.”

“Hey!” Garfield poked your chest. “I don’t like Mondays. So, I take that as a compliment.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Tim agreed.

“See, thank you.”

Garfield groaned and covered his face. “No wonder you two got married.”

Just like that, Tim and you looked anywhere else but each other.

“Oops. Spoilers.” He shrugged. “The secret identity is so retro. You can call me anything. Impulse, Bart, Bart Impulse Allen. All’s crash.”

“He can’t actually be telling the truth,” Robin, Tim, insisted. “He can’t be from the future.”

Garfield leaned in close. “Tell us something we don’t know! Yet.” The boy smiled, so proud of himself. “So, when do I become leader? Or part of the Justice League! Or, hear me out, my reality show? Good answers only.”

“Sorry, BB. Never was the best at history. Plus, I shouldn’t say any more spoilers as to alter the timeline. I mean, now, Tim and (Y/n) might not get married and have Jack  and Anna. Oh, god, we will all be feeling the mode.”

Jack and Anna. “Kids?” You gulped and looked to Tim. Sure enough, he was staring at you, too. There was something in his eyes, behind the mask, that screamed surprise and awe, and you weren’t sure how to take that. Tim was your best friend on the team. Maybe not your best friend ever, since he didn’t know your name and you didn’t know his until after Impulse, but still.

He was so amazing, really. Intelligent, strategic, hard-working. You still got surprised every time he actually wanted to spend time with you.

And then, this kid from the future is telling you that that guy, your best super friend and the smartest person on the team, falls in love with you? Has kids with you?

Then, Impulse escaped. Beast Boy went after him, and Tim was back to clearing his throat and forgetting all the information he had just received.

You sighed. “I’m gonna go train. And, uh, Nightwing?”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” You pursed your lips. “Just, you know, some slightly chipped, broken, maybe possibly shattered tile in hallway B6.”

“Knockout-”

“Ok, bye!” You ran off to the gym. Nightwing had too much on his mind. He wouldn’t go after you just yet.

So, you took deep breaths. When you entered your small, personal gym, it came to life. The light turned on, and your playlist filled the air. You sighed. “Computer, I need you to search for Tim Drake.”

“On it, Knockout.”

As you worked out, you kept asking your room questions and pieced together bits of information.

“I need a list of billionaires who operate business at least once a month in Gotham,” you said, as you stared at the wall of holograms during your cooldown. “Cross reference the list with the list of people associated with Tim Drake.”

“The list consists of seven people.”

“Read them out, please.” You gulped down water and listened.

“Anthony Edwards, Roberta Stark, Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor-”

“Wait.” You stared at the profiles of these people. Seven people that were both associated with Gotham and Tim. Only one of them fit the bill of eccentric billionaire who takes in kids and fights crime with only a tight suit and fancy gadgets.

“Bruce Wayne,” you whispered. “Computer, pull up a picture of Batman next to Mr. Wayne.” Oh my god, how did no one figure it out sooner. They even had a similar physique. “Who are children that are associated with Mr. Wayne?”

“Dick Grayson-”

“Aka Nightwing.”

“-Barbara Gordon-”

You’d recognize that bright red hair anywhere. “Batgirl.”

“-Jason Todd-”

The old Robin.”

“-and Tim Drake.”

You gulped. Four kids, just like how there were four kids under Batman. Two of which were named by the kid from the future.

“Pull all of their pictures up, along with Nightwing, Batgirl, Robin three years ago and Robin now.” All of their physical profiles were similar. Even Jason’s and Robin’s. And Robin’s disappearance was near Jason Todd’s reported death. Robin’s reappearance matched the year Bruce and Tim’s dad, Jack Drake, were acquainted.

You stood back and laughed. “Wow.” You were sitting one of the biggest secrets in history. You knew who Batman was! The Batman! You knew who Robin was, who Nightwing was, who Batgirl was. You knew all of their secret identities.

“I knew you’d figure it out.”

“Robin!” Your computer hid all the files. “Find what out? Nothing to see here.”

“Mhm. Computer?”

“Yes, Robin?”

“Bring up the previous files.”

“Of course.”

You gasped. “Wait! No-” And all your files of the Batman and his associates appeared on the wall behind you. You shook your head. “Thanks, Computer.”

“You’re welcome, Knockout.”

You stared at your feet and joked, “I really should program Computer to detect sarcasm.” you turned to your data. “I still can’t believe no one knows. I mean, it’s obvious.” You pointed at Mr. Wayne. “This guy is one of the only billionaires who operates in Gotham weekly, and Batman is known to have multiple, custom made gadgets. Even if he made them himself, he’d need a lot of money to maintain that, so billionaire is in the description.

“Then, there’s the fact that Batman has many sidekicks or associates or what have you. So that means the the billionaire must be associated with kids, maybe even adopt them. And Mr. Wayne adopted two kids as his wards. The first one of the two being an orphaned trapeze artist who was adopted around the time that Robin showed up for the first time. And it helps that Robin was known to do amazing tricks and stunts when locking up criminals.”

With all the pictures and articles around you, you couldn’t help but wonder. “I mean, it’s obvious.”

Robin laughed. “To us, it is.”

You tilted your head. “Us?”

He nodded. “Computer, can search for a video with the keywords, ‘Grayson,’ and ‘quadruple somersault’?”

Two videos popped up, one of which was a small boy performing the very difficult trick.

“The second one. Now, Computer, bring up footage of Penguin and Robin about six years ago next to it, please.”

The two videos played at the same time, and you saw why Tim brought it up. The kid in the first video was a young trapeze artist, Dick Grayson. The second video had Robin perform the same difficult trick when he defeated Penguin.

You laughed. “That’s how you found out?”

“I saw Dick perform when I was a kid. I recognized it in this video, and when I thought I needed to, I approached Bruce.”

You blinked. “When you needed to?”

His shoulders dropped, and suddenly, you knew what Tim meant. Batman needed a Robin, and the only time he was without one was when Jason, the second Robin, died at the hands of the Joker. Tim sought out Mr. Wayne after that. “You don’t have to,” you said.

Tim smiled, but it was forced. “Thanks.”

You rubbed his shoulder. “You’e really smart for figuring that out at the age of what?” You looked at the Penguin’s video date. “Age of nine? Damn, Robin.”

“Yeah, I am smart,” he admitted. “I’m also smart enough to know you’re avoiding the topic we should really be talking about.”

Blood pooled into your cheeks. You took your hand off his shoulder and laughed. “What do you mean avoiding? I’m not avoiding anything.” You pointed out, “Plus, it could just mean I’m adopted or that we happen to have the same last name later on in the future or something.”

Tim raised his eyebrow. “Impulse said, ‘Have Jack and Anna’.”

“So?”

“So, use that smart brain of yours.”

You grimaced. “Are we really going to talk about it?”

“Yes, we are. We’re a team, (Y/n), and whatever happens, this” - he pointed at the two of you- “needs to stay in tact.” The superhero gulped. “I want it to stay in tact.”

You sighed. “Jack is your dad’s name, obviously, so the future he was talking about, well,” you laughed and pulled at your hair, “it means that we name a kid after your dad.”

“What do you think of Anna? Where’d that come from?”

You shrugged. “Could be anything.” You laughed. “All I thought was, ‘Wow, Anna Drake sounds like a good name.’” You shook your head. “Kinda ridiculous, huh?”

Tim was silent. Then, his cheeks turned red, and he turned away from you. You knew that look. He thought of something. He thought of something, and it was embarrassing enough that even the thought of of it made him blush.

“Nuh-uh.” It took two strides for you to be right in front of him. “No, you’re spitting it out. What is it?”

“Nothing!”

“Not according to those rosy red cheeks, Tim.” You pinched his cheek. “Come on, you can tell me.”

Tim shook his head and hit his own forehead. “It’s stupid.”

“Who cares?”

He sighed. “I thought, I was just gonna say, like, I don’t know.” He cleared his throat and glanced at you before looking at his boots. “I just, I think that (Y/n) Drake, it sounds like a good name, too.”

The smile you had so gleefully earned disappeared just like that. Not because you were embarrassed, although that was true. It wasn’t because you might marry Robin, aka Tim Drake, aka your best friend, or because you had been thinking of that name, your first name and his last name, for the past hour or two.

No, it was because he was right. (Y/n) Drake doesn’t sound bad.

“See!”

“Shut up.” You laughed and covered your face. “I don’t need this from you.”

“You asked for it!”

“I didn’t think you’d say that.” You exhaled a long and deep exhale and shook your head. You couldn’t let him do this to you. It didn’t matter that the two of you might be married later on. No, you had to get him back. You bit your lip and sauntered to him.

Tim’s eyes widened, and he froze. He stared at you, almost in awe of your newly found confidence, and even though your fingers shook, you couldn’t help but love the way he looked at you.

Your fingers brushed against his mask, and your eyes met his blue ones. When he didn’t do anything to stop you, you lifted the mask away from his face, and finally, his face was revealed to you.

You bit your lip and brushed his hair back. “You know, I don’t think Tim (Y/l/n) sounds too bad either.” You smiled up at him and played with one lock of hair that was out of place. “Goes well with this handsome face of yours.”

Tim gulped, and you could feel his heartbeat under his skin. It was frantic, but still, he didn’t move. Even when he sheeks got redder than yours, he didn’t move. He just smiled. “I, uh, I mean.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, you know, you being this close and playing with my, you know, hair and everything.” He gulped and looked down at his feet.

You giggled. “Run out of smoothness there, Robin?”

“Maybe,” he admitted.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling too much. You leaned your head on his chest. “It’s ok, that was all the smoothness I had.”

“All of it?”

“Yep.” You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his chest. “No more smoothness from me. That was it. That was all of it.”

Tim smiled so softly and genuinely as he brushed your hair out of your face before resting them on your waist. “So no more smoothness from you?”

“Nope.”

“Not even on our first date?”

“Well, you got ask me that first?”

He laughed. “Ok then, Drake, what about a date?”

You hummed, as if in thought.

“Come on,” he pouted.

You laughed. “Yes, (Y/l/n), I’ll go on a date with you.”

[marvel--queen]

Lucky People || Jason Todd || Song Fic

Fandom: DC Comics

Word Count:  2,136 (including lyrics)

Warnings: nudity, sexual mentions, theres like one or two swear words but thats it

Description: It’s Jason’s birthday and you give him his Rated PG present before the Rated R present. Plus you get a little surprise of your own

Song: Lucky People by Waterparks

Masterlist

A/N: (V/N) means vigilante name. Sorry it took so long but happy birthday to my baby bird Jason Todd!! Also recommend listening to the band Waterparks in general because theyre the fucking best

THIS IS NOT MY GIF. GIF CREDITS GOES TO THE OWNER

—

You close the door, thanking Dick for helping you throw Jason’s surprise party. All of Jason’s family came by to celebrate his birthday and even though Jason almost shot Tim at the start from startling him, it was a success. Dick was the last to leave, worrying about cleaning up the party but you told him you could take care of it. The minute the door closes, Jason’s arms are around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck. 

“Is there a reason why I didn’t get a birthday present from you at the party?” His voice was low. 

“Well.. yes,” You blushed lightly, “But not what you’re thinking about.” You turn around in his arms to look at his pouty face, "Not yet at least.”

You lead Jason to the couch and give him a nervous look. “Just, uh, give me a minute.” 

Jason looked confused as you hooked up your computer to the TV. You found what you were looking for and clicked on it. It was then where you returned to the couch and placed yourself on Jason’s lap. He wrapped his arms around you and snuggled into your neck. 

Grabbing the remote, you looked at Jason, “Happy birthday, Baby.” And pressed play.

The video starts with you in front of a camera with your guitar. “Hey Jay, right now you’re at the store grabbing me something and going on basically a wild goose hunt since Gotham doesn’t sell what I asked. But I’ll apologize later when you get back home.” You wink at the camera. “But when you see this it’ll be your birthday! So happy birthday Baby! I wrote this a while back but decided to hold off releasing it until after your birthday. Throughout this year, I’ve been randomly filming moments we had, I’m surprised you never asked but you went along with it and now you’ll finally know why.” 

You adjusted your guitar on your lap and spoke, “This one’s for you, I love you."

"Light us up until we pop I wanna burn bright 'til we're not Let's keep each other safe from the world.”

The recording stayed on you strumming and singing until the next line comes.

"I'll be your optimistic black hole Full of love I can't control Let's keep each other safe from the world From the world”

It changed to the two of you in bed laughing as Jason buried his face into your neck and blowing. You squirm away from him with a bright smile on your face before pulling his face towards yours for a kiss.

"Happy birthday, Merry Christmas To the one I call my Mr I'm leaving you love notes in the kitchen, say it all”

The video cuts to you making him pancakes in the morning before you leave for work. It zooms in on the note you placed next to the plate, reading ‘Good Morning my love, I’ll be at work by the time you wake up. Just wanted to let you know that I love you and that we’re having dinner at the manor tonight. Deal with it babe, XO (Y/N)’ 

"I know you said to mind my business But Cupid sent me on a mission It's got me sitting, wishing, waiting for your call Let's be lucky people, you and me”

You hobbled vicariously to the couch, hoping to not spill the wine you were carrying. Getting comfortable and making sure your leg is properly elevated, you open your current book and start reading. The video cuts to a later time, as seen by the darkness in the window next to you and your book soon was read through. Throughout the video, your face gets more worried and you check your phone more frequently than the start of the video. It’s the first time in a while where you weren’t out there with Jason patrolling Gotham but since you got in a bit of a scuffle last week with some of Joker’s goons, you were out of commission with a broken leg. The video cuts one last time to you almost asleep on the couch. Jason crawls through the window and takes off his mask. You jump at the sound but your startled eyes light up at the sight of your boyfriend and you open your arms wide at the boy. Jason gives you a tired smile and strips off his jacket and utilities before joining you on the couch. Careful of your leg, he laid with his head on your chest and your arms circle around him. One hand moves up to play with his hair and you see a dopey smile form on Jasons’ tired face as he falls asleep laying on you.

"My hourglass is in your hands You've got my time, you are my plans Let's keep each other safe from the world”

Your leg is fully healed and you’re on the roof of your apartment in your (V/N) outfit with Jason next to you in his Red Hood outfit. His mask is off, allowing his face to be seen with only a domino mask covering his identity. The sun is about to set behind you as you laugh swinging his arms with yours. You pull him closer to your body and started to dance. He gives you a look before giving in to your antics. The two of you are goofily dancing before it turns to Jason just holding you and swaying with the sun almost gone behind you both, casting a silhouette. You break from his grasp, giving him a sweet kiss and flipping backward off of the building. Jason is laughing to himself as he grabs his mask, placing it on and following you on patrol.

"You've got me writing sappy songs I used to laugh at on my own Let's keep each other safe from the world Because I know it's hard to let yourself be fine But I'll carry around our worried flurried minds But I'll let go if you do too"

You giggle as the bubbles from your bath tickles your skin. Your cat looks curiously at the bubbles from the rim of the bathtub and swats at some. You hear the front door open and close and Jason calls out to you. 

“In the bath!” You yell in response and you hear heavy footsteps. By the time Jason appears in the bathroom door, he’s already shirtless.

“Mind if I join?” You respond by moving forward in the bath creating space behind you for Jason. Doing this made some bathwater spill over the rim and your cat yowled in surprise before running off.

“Crazy cat,” You mutter to yourself as Jason climbs into the tub behind you.

“He may be crazy but you love him,” Jason tugs you into his lab once he settled.

“Seems as if I have a type.” You smile back at him as his face shifts into betrayal.

“You take that back!” 

“Nope,” You grab some bubbles and try and place it on his face, creating a beard. You giggle at how goofy he looks until he goes and nuzzles his face into your neck, tickling you. Screaming, you squirm in his hold as he starts blowing raspberries onto your neck. Once Jason stopped and you calmed down, you sink deeper into the bathwater and Jason places a kiss on your head. You tilt your head up slightly to look at your lover and he leans down to kiss you. It’s messy but it’s perfect at the moment. Jason tapped your nose lightly when the two of you pulled away from the kiss.

"Happy birthday, Merry Christmas To the one I call my Mr I'm leaving you love notes in the kitchen, say it all I know you said to mind my business But Cupid sent me on a mission It's got me sitting, wishing, waiting for your call Let's be lucky people, you and me"

You open the door to your new home and let your cat free from his kennel. He runs around the living room for a bit before losing interest and grooming himself instead. You laugh at your cats' reaction to the new house and jump when arms wrap around your waist. You turn your head to look at Jason and smile, kissing his lips sweetly. 

"My common sense is powerless And I'm convinced that you Caught me lucky, it's just the half of it The better half of me that I couldn't quit"

Jason is snuggled into your back, leaving kisses on your shoulder as you try and film. His hair tickling your neck as you giggle, trying to release yourself from his grip. Once he releases you, you flip him over so you're straddling his waist and the camera is poised on him. He pouts at you behind the camera and he looks sinfully adorable with messy hair from you pulling it earlier and dark bruises marking his chest from your kisses. You lean down into the frame and kiss his cheek. During then he catches you off guard and flips you over, taking the camera from your hand. You reach out to grab the camera but he dodges it and the shoulder of Jason’s shirt you're wearing falls exposing your shoulder. You scrunch your nose at him and make a goofy face at the camera, sticking your tongue out. It ends with you mouthing "I love you” to Jason before you covered the lens with your hand.

“ 'Cause now I'm flying across the country More than monthly for you You've got me more than clumsy But you're my yellow lovely"

For a month in the summer, you went home to visit your family. Sadly Jason couldn’t come with, he had duties in Gotham as Red Hood. During that month, you two must have facetimed at least once a day and you missed him so much, especially Larry, your cat. You couldn’t bring Larry along since your brother is allergic and the majority of your facetimes, much to Jason’s dismay, was you talking to Larry. Now the month was over and you were finally coming home. Immediately getting off the plane, you saw Jason. Looking like he just rolled out of bed, in one of your oversized yellow jumpers, he never looked better. Your smile grew and you dropped your luggage, running to the love of your life. He didn’t notice you until you were in the air jumping onto him. Luckily, Jason is used to this and he caught you with only a few stumbles. You litter his face with kisses and held on to him for dear life. 

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you,” You repeat between each kiss before pulling away and looking straight into his eyes. “I missed you, Jay-bird.” 

“Sure seemed like you missed the cat more than me,” Jason muttered before squeezing your ass and kissing you hard. You smiled into the kiss and laughed at his comment. You may have missed your cat but you missed Jason even more.

"Happy birthday, Merry Christmas To the one I call my Mr I'm leaving you love notes in the kitchen and say it all I know you said to mind my business But Cupid sent me on a mission It's got me sitting, wishing, waiting for your call"

The video closes with you and your guitar and a kiss blown at the camera. 

“Soooo,” You drawl out peaking nervously at Jason. He had tears in his eyes and gaped at you. “Aw you big baby,” You cup his face and kissed his nose.

Jason looked at you with love in his eyes before trying to respond, “I- oh god. That was beautiful, (Y/N).” 

You blush and hide in his chest, “Was it really?”

“Yeah, it was. Just, uh, hold on for a second.” He picks you up from his lap and races towards your shared room. After a minute of fidgeting your thumbs, he returns and kneels in front of you. “This is not how I planned this going but after watching that there is no one else I’d ever want to marry. (Y/N) (L/N), I am so in love with you, will you marry me?” He opens the velvet box he had hidden behind his back to reveal a beautiful ring.

“Oh my god, holy shit,” You gasp, covering your mouth. “Yes, a thousand times yes, Jay.” He slides the ring onto your left ring finger and picks you up from the couch, kissing you. You break the kiss to look him in the eyes, “Now, for your other gift.” Somehow, still in his arms, you removed your shirt to reveal his favorite deep red lacy bra you own and he groaned loudly.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Jason smirks before carrying you to your bed.

[buckyspetpsychopath]

Make me yours forever

David Dobrik x reader Vlog Squad Words: 1855

Masterlist

A/N: Whether this be set in the future or you ignore the fact that he dated Liza for two years, It's up to you. It doesn’t really matter. Also, this might be one of my favourite pieces of writing I’ve ever written. 

‘You got everything sorted for our double date?’ I read off my phone, a text from David. ‘Yes, Natalie is here and we’re gonna get ready here and then we’ll meet you at your house’ I text back and he replies with a simple ok, love you x

So, Natalie and I start getting ready. David and Natalie had approached me days earlier wondering if I’d be interested in going on a double date with her and her boyfriend, we’d done it many times in the past but we were going to go for a proper fancy meal and get dressed up which doesn’t happen often. 

We start doing our hair and makeup, dancing along to the music in the background. I love everyone in the vlog squad but after spending so much time at David’s house, I had become best friends with Natalie. More often than not all the girls would gather at my apartment for sleepovers. We get dressed and put a few final touches on before we start heading towards the door.

“You look amazing, David’s gonna die when he sees you” she comments. “No are you kidding, Shawn is gonna freak out when he sees you!” I retort and she smiles. 

We head down to the car and drive over to David’s house, it’s just easier for us to go from Davids and for him to drive his Tesla. When we step out of the car joe comes running up to us with the camera. "Hello?" I laugh as I shut the car door.  "Hi, just follow the flowers" he smiles, I look over to Natalie and she smirks. Suddenly John Legend is blasting.

"You fix your make up, just so Guess you don't know, that your beautiful Try on every dress that you own You were fine in my eyes, a half hour ago If your mirror won't make it any clearer I'll Be the one to let you know" 

I raise my eyebrow but follow a path of roses into his driveway, I come across Vardan who's holding a yellow rose. He hands it to me and pulls me down to his left to press a kiss to my cheek.

“Out of all the girls You my one and only girl Ain't nobody in the world tonight All of the stars, you make them shine like they were ours Ain't nobody in the world but you and I You and I Ain't nobody in the world but you”

Next, I come across Ilya holding a pink rose, handing it over he pecks my cheek also. I look behind me at Joe and Natalie and they urge me further.

“You stop the room when we walk in Spotlights on everybody staring Tell all of these boys, they wasting their time Stop standing in line, cause you're all mine And this evening I, won't let the feeling die I never wanna leave your side”

I walk into the house through the open door with everyone else following me and come across David’s sisters, my eyes widen, and they hug me excitedly handing me a peach rose. I walk a little further following a bunch of petals on the floor to the back door that is shut but Toby is standing in front of it with an orange rose.

“Out of all the girls You my one and only girl Ain't nobody in the world tonight All of the stars you make them shine like they were ours Ain't nobody in the world but you and I You and I Ain't nobody in the world”

I grin and shuffle over to him quickly bending down to his height to hug him. He smiles wide and hands me the rose and then takes my hand and together we slide the door open. We step out as the song reaches the chorus again and I see the garden littered with everyone we know, and I find David in the middle of everyone in a suit with a bowtie.

“You keep wondering if you're what I'm wanting You don't even have to try You don't have to try Don't try Don't try You don't have to try”

Suddenly a load of sparklers go off and I jump. Toby lets go of my hand and runs over to hand David a box. David summons me over to him and I grin walking over to him.

“You’re wearing a white shirt” I laugh, and he rolls his eyes making everyone laugh. He pulls out a blindfold from his pocket and I now roll my eyes. He turns me around and gently places it over my eyes, careful not to ruin my makeup. He points me towards the direction I was facing when I came out and the music is turned down a little so we can talk without having to shout. I feel David’s presence leave mine.

“Ok, take your blindfold off” I hear him say behind me, so I do. The group of everyone we know split apart and reveal a wall of white roses, spelled out with red ones

‘will you marry me?’ My eyes widen and I gasp. I turn to see David on one knee holding out a ring. “David” I whisper with my hands over my mouth.

David’s POV* “They’re on their way” Shawn informs us, and I nod. “Everyone get ready, they’re almost here” I shout, and everyone quietens down a little. “You ready for this dude?” Todd grins and I let out a breath. “What if she says no?” I ask. “She’s not going to, she’s in love with you” Zane chirps in. Suddenly, John Legend is blasting through the house and I have to jump around a little to calm myself down. I turn towards everyone looking at all their faces, everyone is super excited but also trying to stay as quiet as possible. It seems like years pass when the sliding door finally opens. Everyone’s cameras pointing towards the door.

She steps out with Toby’s hand in hers and I smile. Natalie, Ilya, Esther, Sarah, Vardan and Joe are behind her and rush around her to join the huge group of people. Toby leaves her hand and she seems lost when Scott and Heath turn the sparklers on. I smile nervously and motion for her to come towards me.

“You’re wearing a white shirt” she laughs, and I roll my eyes.  I pull the blindfold out of my pocket teasingly making her roll her eyes. She turns so I can put it on, I barely tie it then leave her side to get on my knee behind her. Once I am comfortable enough kneeling on the floor everyone gives me a thumbs up.

“ok, take your blindfold off” I say and she does. Everyone moves out of the way to reveal the wall of roses. She gasps and I assume she’s read it, she turns around and she whispers “David”. I hold my hand out to her and start my speech.

Normal POV* “I wanna start by saying I love you, so much. You are everything to me. The roses actually all have meanings, which I was shocked to find out” he laughs and earns a couple giggles. My eyes are glassy now but no tears shed. “The yellow represents friendship. All the years you were my friend before my girlfriend, and throughout our entire relationship, you have been my greatest friend. The pink represents admiration, I admire you so much for putting up with me for so long and for accepting me in every way possible. The peach represents appreciation, as much as I admire you, I also appreciate every little thing you do. Staying up until 5 am with me whilst I finish a vlog, helping me with editing, stocking up the fridge with water bottles because you know I don’t drink enough. You go to every party, outing, award show with me without a second thought. The orange represents desire. The desire I once felt for you to be my girlfriend and the desire I now feel to make you my wife.” He takes a deep breath and I let out a little sob, tears now trickling out of both of our eyes.

“And on the wall over there are red and white roses. Red represents love. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you and I don’t think I ever will, which is why I know this is the right decision. And lastly, the white represents new beginnings. Hopefully symbolic of the life we could have, so… Will you marry me?” He breathes out nervously waiting for my response. It barely takes me a moment to think about it as I scream out a ‘YES’.

Everyone screams in excitement as David stands up putting the ring on my finger, his hand shaking. When it's on I dive into his arms pressing my lips against his. We pull away after a moment and he holds my cheek, leaving a long kiss on my forehead. “You look so beautiful right now” He whispers. “I’m gonna be your wife” I smile, my eyes practically glimmering. He grins wide in response and pecks my lips again shortly before he laces one hand in mine and turns to everyone holding his other fist up in a cheer. Everyone gathers around us in a hug and I laugh.

Once everyone has calmed down a little everyone gets a glass of champagne from the table set up littered with all types of food and drink. Jason picks up a microphone from who knows where and speaks into it.

“To the future Mr and Mrs Dobrik” he toasts, and everyone holds their glasses up before we take a sip. I can’t keep the smile off my face the entire night as I float from group to group. David had decked out the entire garden with decorations and canopies in case it rained, obviously the double date idea was a cover while he planned our engagement party. Throughout the night, when I wasn’t by Davids side I’d catch him glancing at me with a smile and I couldn’t help but grin back. By the end of the night my cheeks were hurting from smiling so much.

A couple days after we post it to social media and the response, we receive back is incredible.

 Daviddobrik I put a ring on it (most basic engagement caption in the world)

I watch all the comments flood in and grin over at David. I look over to admire my ring, something I had gotten used to doing for the past fews days.

“I didn’t know I could have a favourite finger until now” I joke and he throws his head back in laughter pulling me to straddle him on the couch. “You know its not too late to change your mind, you’ll be stuck with me forever?” he smirks and I kiss his nose gently before replying. “There’s nothing more I want in this world than to be your wife” I say. “I love you” He whispers. “I love you too” I whisper back.

​

[batmagines]

Friday Night Lights

Relationship: Dick Grayson x Reader

Warnings: injury, language, I think that’s it????

A/N: just a heads up, i know like nothing about football other than what i’ve seen at my HS games soooo nothing too detailed i just liked the idea :))). Feedback is appreciated!! (Also I didn’t really know how to end it so I hope this suffices <3). 

---

Friday night lights at gotham academy were a big deal now. After the school had gone undefeated and were now 8-0 (a big change from your previous years attending the school where to put it simple- you guys sucked). You sat with Dick’s younger brothers in the student section, Jason sitting on the Senior Wall where you guessed it, only seniors could sit and you Tim and Damian sat behind him. Of course Dami was still in middle school but the 8th grader got along with his brothers and you more than kids his own age. His sisters tended to stay at home, both of them not really liking the crowd, Steph came to the first, homecoming, and last game, Cass would rather stay at home.

The atmosphere had a lot of tension and excitement, there was a certain pressure on the team as they didn’t want to let the fans down and they were game of the week. Dressed in Dick’s practice jersey, a yellow bandana and yellow face-paint (with Dick’s number of course) you cheered as your boyfriend scored the first touchdown of the game.

The band began to play the fight song, (Y/F/N) and you singing along horribly but with so much enthusiasm to fuel the rest of the crowd. All three of his brother’s cheered loudly and you jumped up and down.

“Dick Grayson with the touchdown!” The announcer said in that voice, you know the one.

“That’s my boy!” You screamed and Damian rolled his eyes while you laughed at him.

“You make me want to puke y/n,” He said.

“One day you’ll understand Dami.” you said ruffling the boys hair before handing him some dollar bills. “Go get me some peanut m&m’s, get yourself something too, I know you didn’t eat and we aren’t going to get shake’s until after the game.”

With a huff, the young boy went on his way to concessions.

“Get me some airheads!” Jason called after the boy not looking away from the game.

“Fine Todd.”

---

The game was tied with 2 minutes left in the fourth quarter. Dick had the ball and was running for a touchdown until he was tackled by the other team. Except this time he didn’t get up.

“What the fuck.” You said grabbing Jason’s arm after about 20 seconds of him still on the floor. “Why hasn’t he gotten up?”

“Shit.” You heard Jason say before hopping off the senior wall with you, Tim and Damian trailing behind him to the other side of the field watching Katy walk onto the field. The coach saw all of you walking towards Dick and ushered you and Jason out onto the field while telling Tim and Damian to stay put.

Scared of the outcome, you hesitantly dropped to your knees by Dick. Everything was quiet, the players knelt, and the stands had sat down being the quietest you’d ever heard.

“Dick? What’s wrong” the Trainer Katy asked him.

“My leg, it’s tight” He groaned and you grabbed his hand giving him a squeeze of reassurance.

“This could be a minor thing or something big and costly, right now all that’s certain is that he isn’t playing the rest of the game.” Katy said and you looked at your boyfriend whose eyes were screwed shut in pain. “We need to get him to the locker room.”

You nodded and helped get Dick up enough so that Jason could carry most of his weight on his shoulder while you got Dick’s other side. The crowd began to clap out of respect and somehow you managed to get Dick into the locker room and lay him down on a nurses bed. Jason left to call Bruce and watch over the brothers while you stayed with Dick.

“You look good tonight babe.” He muttered and you rolled your eyes.

“How can you say that at a time like this?” You asked with a chuckle brushing sweaty hair off of his forehead.

“Let’s just say focusing on you helps me focus on the fact that I’m not out there.”

“You can take a break every once in a while baby, you’re not indestructible, your body wears down.” You tell him reassurance in your voice.

“Yeah but my team needs m-” He began to say but the walls shook as the crowd began to cheer and the announcer announced another touchdown for your team and the band began to play once more.

“There’s thirty seconds left, I’m sure they can suffice without you for that long dear” You said as Katy told the two of you that she needed him to take off all of his padding.

“I’ll let you help, I’m sure that would be a lot more comfortable for all of us.” She said with a chuckle before leaving the room once more.

Quickly you helped him strip of his padding that left him in spandex and shirtless. Katy came back in and after a couple minutes of examining it was determined that Dick pulled his hamstring.

“I’m sorry Dick, but this is going to put you out of games for possibly the rest of the season.” She said solemnly.

“Damn it.” He said dropping his head back onto the bed. You grabbed his hand as his family burst into the area his adoptive father Bruce and his wife Selina turning to Katy who only shook her head.

“The best we can do right now is ice it, wrap it, and get you on crutches and rest it continuously. Although, I’d look into heading to the hospital” She told everyone before wrapping his injured leg and handing him a pair of crutches.  “You’re teams waiting out here.”

Handing him a shirt, Dick put it on before working his way to the door with his crutches. His team was crowding around him in an instant.

“I’m sorry guys.” He muttered looking down at his feet. “I’m out.”

“Don’t be sorry Dick.” Wally West spoke up. “You’ve got us this far in the season, we’ll finish it for you.”

“Yeah dude, we couldn’t have done it without your motivation.” #4 said whose name you weren’t sure of. “Just get better soon, you’re going to have so many colleges wanting you. Get ready for track.”

With many ‘get better’ and ‘thank you’s’ to Dick the family left and it was just the two of you as Bruce went to get the car and Jason took the brother’s home.

“Thank you for being here Y/N.” He said sadly. “Probably not how you wanted to spend your friday night.”

“Richard Grayson I know you did not just say that” You spoke wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll always be here, any time with you before is a blessing, no matter how it’s spent.”

“I love you.” He whispered pressing his lips to yours.

“And I love you more #15.” You smiled against his lips as Bruce pulled up.

“Come on lovebirds.” He shouted and you helped Dick to the car. “Y/N I called your parent’s they said you can spend the night tonight. The door remains cracked though.”

With a laugh you got in the car beside Dick. “Thank you Mr. Wayne”

[peterxwade24]

Safety Found in Red Sleeves

Chapter 5

Here is the long awaited Chapter 5. Also, due to my own desire, all of the temporary heroes will have suits fashioned after outfits from “Avatar: the Last Airbender”.

Con trai means “son” while Con gài means “daughter”, or at least that’s what the website I found them on says. (the website is www.vietnamesepod101.com if you’re wondering)

Also, I made a typo in chapter 2/3 with Marc’s pronouns but since then, I’ve changed it. I hope you all will continue to receive this fic with the same enthusiasm you have thus far.

Jason danced around his kitchen with Damian on his hip, his sisters sitting on some of the kitchen counters. Bobby Day’s “Rockin’ Robin” poured into the kitchen from his bluetooth speaker.

Tim wandered into the kitchen, one hand rubbing at his eye and the other on the wall, and ran into Steph’s legs. “‘ephanie?”

“Hey Tim.” Steph gently pushed Tim in the direction of the fridge and laughed as she watched him stumble to the fridge.

Jason ruffled Tim’s hair as he walked passed and smiled. “Good morning Timbers.”

“Good morning Uncle Tim.” Damian murmured from where his head was resting against his dad’s shoulder.

“Wha-?” Tim turned to look at the pair. “When did-?”

“Just went through yesterday.” Jason smiled. “Don’t worry too much.”

Tim nodded and got his glass of water before returning to the girls and settling between them. “Have you told Dick yet?”

Jason shook his head and opened the oven door to peek at the muffins he was baking. “No. But he, Wally and the kids are supposed to come over for lunch today.”

---

Jason carefully pried the sleeping form of his son off of his hip and passed him to Roy with a smile before looking at his brother. “So, Dickiebird, how are you holding up?”

Dick shrugged, playing with Mar’i’s hair to distract himself, before smiling. “I’m fine.” He glanced over at Wally for a moment. “Wally and I have been helping each other with this single parent thing.”

Wally smiled before turning to watch Jai and Iris chase each other around the dining room table. “Dick’s a great help with those two, they always have so much energy.”

Jason chuckled and shook his head. “Of course they have so much energy, look at who their father is.” Jason was about to say something when someone knocked on the door. “Give me just a moment.”

Wally and Dick sent him a pair of thumbs up as he stood up and walked towards the door.

Jason opened the door and simply raised an eyebrow. “What can I help you with Mr. Wayne?”

“There’s a French class coming to Gotham. They’re staying in one of the company hotels in the heart of the city. You and your brothers had best be on your best behaviour since Dick is the tour guide for their tours through the company buildings and you’re the acting bodyguard for their tours around the city.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Hey Dickiebird! I didn’t know you signed up to give some tours to some hoity toity French kids.”

“I didn’t know I signed up to give some tours either.” Dick leaned on the wall next to the door. “When did either of us sign up to help you?”

Bruce sighed and looked at his two oldest sons. “Don’t do it for me. Do it for Alfred, he would like it if any of you came around.”

“Mmm, no can do B. My son is the child of a rogue and the grandchild of a rogue, my sister is the child of a rogue, my sisters are children of rogues, my brothers and I associate with rogues. Alfred is more than welcome to come around. You can give him my address and then forget it.”

Dick nodded and slung an arm around Jason’s shoulders. “When is the French class supposed to be here?”

“They’re flying in on Saturday but don’t start their tours until the following Monday to allow for them to get used to the time change.

---

Jason nervously tapped his foot on the floor, hoping and praying to whatever deity came to mind first a certain god of destruction that everything would turn out alright. He took a deep breath, shook out his hands and knocked on the door to the apartment.

The door opened and Selina appeared, dishevelled hair and shirt falling down her arm. Selina was sleepily rubbing at her eye with the other hand still held the door, just open enough she could see whomever was at her door but not open enough that anyone could see into her apartment.

“Aunt Selina?” Jason whispered while praying again to the deity. “Do you remember me? I’m-”

Selina let go of the door to wrap her arms around Jason, pulling the much taller boy against her chest. “Oh Jason. Why didn’t you come to me immediately after you breached city limits?” She pulled back just enough to hesitantly trace her fingers over the scars that marred his otherwise conventionally handsome face. “My poor bird. My poor, poor, little bird.”

“Aunt Selina. I’m fine now. Dick and Tim have sided with me against Bruce. I know how much you care for him and I understand if you’re taking his side, I just, I needed to see my Aunt Selina one last time.”

“Jason Peter Todd. I’m not the Joker. My one goal in life isn’t to be the Bat’s one and only. The day he brought Dick on the scene I decided then and there that you all weren’t his birds. You were mine. And cats are just as likely to attack bats as they are birds.” Selina’s fingers paused on top of a set of three very faint white-silver scars just under his jawline. “I am sorry that I ever caused you pain my little bird.”

---

Jason nervously straightened things around his apartment, Damian, Roy and Lian sat on the couch watching his mad dash around the apartment while Stephanie and Cass sat on a pair of counters with Tim standing between them. Dick, Wally, Mar’i, Jay and Iris were nervously looking out the window as Jason continued to clean.

Dick, Wally, Mar’i, Jay and Iris suddenly scrambled away from the window to sit down around Damian, Roy and Lian.

A few minutes after they sat down, a firm knock came at the door. Jason brushed the dust off of his shirt and approached the door. Jason opened the door and smiled. “Hi Aunt Selina. Hi Grandpa Alfred.”

Alfred smiled at Jason and glanced down at the covered dish in his hands. “I made my key lime pie.”

Selina simply chuckled. “Little bird. At this point, I’m your mom. Just call me Mom.”

-*-*-*

Thana looked at her friends, Chloé steadfast in her loyalty, Nino firm in his friendship, and Kim unshakable in his protection, and smiled. “I love you guys so much. You are my family.”

Chloé smiled and wrapped her arms around Thana. “We love you too.”

Nino and Kim joined their hug, the four friends uniting in their found family and solidifying their bonds. “You’re our family too Thana.”

---

Desgracia watched as Marc took a deep breath before looking at Kaalki. “Kaalki, full gallop.”

Marc was encased in a pale brown light. When the light disappeared, they stood in a loose-fitting gray bodysuit with brown knee-high boots with dark orange-red bands around the top of the boots and around the ankles, dark red wrist gauntlets covered in orange horseshoes with dark golden yellow bands around the top and bottom of the gauntlets. Over the gray bodysuit, they had a dark red tunic which crossed over their chest which was hemmed in a red-orange. The bottom half of their face was obscured by the turtleneck of their gray bodysuit while they had a dark orange-red domino mask with light gray eye lenses. The domino mask had a thin golden yellow outline, akin to glasses, while their hair had reddened. While their hair had previously been pitch black, it was now a dark chestnut that had lengthened to resemble Sesshomaru’s.

“What’s your name?” Desgracia’s eye lenses were blue-green and flicked over his suit in vague interest.

“Ma-”

Desgracia’s eye lenses darkened to green and hissed. “Hero name. We don’t use names in the field.” A gruff voice repeating the same words to a much younger version of her older brother sounded in her head.

“Oh, uh, um.” Marc frowned and tapped their chin in thought.

“Well, you’re using the Horse Miraculous so it should be something horse related. Poulain, because you’re new at this so you’re like a foal.”

“Poulain rouge.” Marc smiled and shook out their shoulders. “Poulain rouge because my hair is more red now.”

“Welcome to the team Poulain rouge.” Desgracia smiled and leaned over to ruffle their hair.

“Thanks.”

---

Thana sat under the stairs which lead to the second floor of the school, sketching an outfit for a client when another person tripped over her legs. She glanced up to see it was Marc before looking back down at her sketch.

“Sorry. I didn’t-” Marc started before Thana cut them off.

“Would you wear this?” Thana pushed her sketchbook towards them and tapped her fingers on her leg.

Marc looked over the sketch and nodded. “Yeah. Looks good. Who’s it for?”

“A client. Hey, you’re good at writing, right?” Thana looked at them and seemed to be imploring them to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Could you look over my website and figure out what’s wrong with it?” Thana smiled. “You can come over to Chlo’s to look over it. Well, Chlo’s or Kim’s.”

Marc nodded. “Sure.”

---

Thana and Marc followed after Kim as he walked into his home.

“Mẹ! Mèo con and our friend came over, I hope that’s okay.” Kim called as they entered the house. Kim and Thana toed off their shoes on instinct while Marc just copied their movements.

“Con trai. Con gài.” Kim’s Mẹ wrapped the two up in a hug before pressing kisses to their foreheads. “Ni hao. I’m Kim’s mom, and Marinette,” Kim’s Mẹ noticed how she flinched at the use of the name and corrected herself, “Thana has practically become my daughter.”

“My name is Marc Anciel.” Marc shook Kim’s Mẹ’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am.”

“None of that ma’am stuff. Just call me Mẹ, those two do.” Kim’s Mẹ was, arguably, a very attractive woman. She had short black hair and warm caramel brown eyes and she was just a few centimeters shorter than Kim. “Come on in.”

The three teens smiled at the woman before they went back to Kim’s room. Thana pulled up her website and moved out of the desk chair to allow Marc to look it over.

Marc looked over the website while Kim and Thana did their homework. “Are you sure you want the whole webpage to be gunmetal gray? You could mix it up with the background being light purple so the gray stands out.”

Thana nodded and let out a quiet “huh”. “Hey Marc? Do you care if I hug you?”

Marc’s eyes widened and they smiled shyly. “Sure.”

Thana wrapped her arms around Marc. “Thank you so much.”

---

Desgracia looked over the field, making sure each of her teammates weren’t being overwhelmed with this Akuma’s minions, when she saw the Akuma gunning for Poulain rouge.

Desgracia lept from the rooftop, landing on her toes in front of Poulain rouge and glared at the Akuma. She twirled her baton in her hand, keeping it low enough to not hit Poulain, before she looked back over her shoulder at Poulain. “Go get Monsieur Punaise. Tell him to hurry.”

Poulain nodded, turned around and ran to get their fearless leader who had one fear and it was Desgracia.

By the time Poulain returned with Monsieur Punaise, the Akuma was barely holding on. Monsieur Punaise called for his Lucky Charm, a plane ticket (specifically one for the flight they were taking soon), before deakumatizing the Akuma and throwing the Lucky Charm in the air with a call of “Miraculous Monsieur Punaise”.

Desgracia wrapped an arm around Poulain’s waist before jumping away, leaving her more even tempered teammates to assist the Akuma victim.

Desgracia landed on a rooftop and put Poulain down on the rooftop. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. He didn’t get close enough to take a swipe at me.” Poulain rouge chuckled and shook their head. “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

“Poulain. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. All damage dealt in the battle was rendered useless and disappeared when Monsieur Punaise cast his final charm.” Desgracia cupped Poulain’s face in her hands. “You have to be on guard at all times in battle. I won’t always be here. You need to trust your teammates to protect you in battle.”

Trâu landed on the rooftop and chuckled. “Desi, you can’t just kidnap our Foal.”

Desgracia turned her green eyes on him, however after assessing him as no threat her eye lenses turned back into their normal blue. “Trâu. I didn’t kidnap them. I just needed to ensure that they were fine.”

Taglist

@southamericangothamite @maribat-is-lifeblood @mystery-5-5 @our-preciousss @mochegato @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @2confused-2doanything @wannajointhecrabcult @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmymind @moonlightstar64 @justafanwarrior @mialuvscats @pheony1882 @pepelachanel @moongoddesskiana @abrx2002 @ladybug-182 @greatcatblaze @thatonecroc @vixen-uchiha @superbwhispersconnoisseur @lilkymilky @susiej1118 @thatonecroc

[imnotinclinedtomaturity]

Love Yourself (Chapter 25)

title: Love Yourself summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista. chapter words: 5.7k story words: 202.4k (so far) chapter: 25/? rating: m warnings: language, alcohol, sex mentions, some bi/homophobia, eventual explicit smut genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn [[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]

a/n: @auroraphilealis kicked my ass into gear tonight because i got home and she was like... are you tired... because you could post tonight. and then patiently sat there with me while i edited.

a/n2: shorter than normal, but it’s been less than a week? i think? you better hope good things come in small(er) packages. also a bit more homophobia than normal this chapter, be safe kids. don’t let people talk to you like this if you can help it.

“Isabella,” Dan muttered, empty and shaken. It took him nearly a full second of staring at her to meet her eyes.

She was perched on the back of the lobby sofa, her long legs stretched out in front of her, hooked at the ankle. In her hands was a manila envelope — something that seemed incredibly out of place given the rest of her sultry, borderline inappropriate, appearance. Two months ago, Dan’s eyes would have traced over her curves in the tight dress, probably gotten turned on by the fact that it was so short that he would definitely be able to see her lacy underwear if he just bent down a little. Her hair was in immaculate loose curls, her makeup overstated and dark. She hadn’t changed a bit since Dan had seen her last.

“Well, aren’t you going to invite me up, Danny?” Isabella asked, one eyebrow raised, a sickeningly sweet smile on her lips. Pointed, blood red nails drummed against the yellow envelope as she waited impatiently.

The question was enough to finally shake Dan from his numb stupor. His eyes flickered to Todd, who was watching the scene carefully and looked ready to intervene if necessary. Their eyes met, and Todd quirked his head, silently questioning if Dan needed help. Not bothering to be subtle about it, Dan held up one finger and shook his head.

“Well, Danny?” Isabella asked — taunted more like.

Dan’s attention snapped back to her, his blood nearly boiling just from the thirty seconds of interaction. “Definitely not,” Dan spat harshly, spinning around without a second glance, storming off towards the lift. Isabella had always had the tendency to bring out the most… passionate side of him. Usually not in an attractive way.

He only got a few strides away before Isabella was calling after him again. “Oh, but I really think you should. I’ve got something that I think you’ll be very interested in.”

Dan slowly, warily turned around. Isabella had stood up, and was smugly fanning herself with the envelope. Dan’s mind sorted through possibilities, trying to figure out what it could possibly be — if there was anything that would be important enough that he’d willingly let her into his flat. He was coming up short, though. Whatever was in that envelope was a mystery to him.

“What is that?” Dan forced out through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on the envelope.

“Something special for you. See, I’ve got a meeting with Tatler on Friday, and I think we should talk about what I’m going to say,” Isabella explained. Her voice was dripping with forced honey; she was talking to him like he was a small child.

The small amount of blood that had still been in Dan’s face drained away.

Suddenly, it seemed like there could be a lot of things in the envelope: his sexuality, Phil, a distorted version of their break up…

All things Dan wasn’t keen on Isabella spilling to the public.

Unsubtly, Isabella shifted her gaze to Todd. “Away from prying ears.”

“Todd,” Dan said as he tore his eyes from Isabella to look at the doorman. “I’ll ring down if I need you. Be on alert, please.”

“Yes Mr. Howell,” Todd agreed. The familiar, polite smile that he usually sported had been replaced with a grim look of concern. His brows were furrowed together, his eyes alert, his chest puffed out. He looked ready for action.

The clack clack clack of Isabella’s stilettos echoed as she crossed the lobby, a wicked smile pulling her lips too tightly against her teeth. With a resigned sigh, Dan followed her, feeling like he was marching to his grave, not his own flat.

Dan wordlessly pushed the call button for the lift, worriedly spinning his key back and forth in his hands. When the lift doors opened, Dan stalked forward silently, Isabella following behind without any further invitation.

A flurry of emotions — anger, disappointment, fear — was making Dan’s hands tremble. Three times, he unsuccessfully tried to guide his key into the correct slot, his shaking hands missing every time. With every failed attempt, he felt the intensity of Isabella’s stare increasing, felt her disdain growing.

His fourth attempt was interrupted by a loud, derisive scoff. “Do you have nail polish on?”

Dan tugged the sleeves of his jumper over his hands, suddenly self conscious about his nails again. Using his clothed knuckle, Dan jabbed the button for his flat before protectively crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I thought only fags did that,” she ridiculed, sounding repulsed. “Oh wait, I forgot. You’re a little queer boy aren’t you?”

Dan tried not to flinch, tried not to let her see how much the words had affected him. They sounded far too much like the playground taunts he’d endured in primary school, the jeers of the boys on the football team in sixth form.

Phil likes them, Dan’s mind supplied weakly as he tried to block her out. Her opinion of him didn’t matter anymore — and, really, never did. He just wanted to find out what she had in that fucking envelope and get her out of his life again.

This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to end.

He was supposed to have been able to curl up in bed, maybe watch a cheesy rom-com while drinking a glass of wine, and fall asleep still high on his date with Phil. Instead, he was currently stuck in the most tense lift ride in history, with his ex-girlfriend, all while trying to push through the gnawing feeling in his stomach that something was very, very wrong.

Dan was so on edge that the ding of the lift doors startled him, causing him to jump and yelp quietly. Isabella laughed at him — a laugh full of contempt and judgement. Ashamed, Dan ducked his head and led the way off the lift.

He came to a halt in the foyer, not wanting to let her further into the flat if avoidable. The closer she was to the exit, the easier it would be to throw her out once Dan figured out what the bloody hell she was after.

Dan stared at her anxiously, his eyes pointedly flicking down to her hands.

He expected her to tell him what the fuck this was about, but she brushed straight passed him, deliberately ignoring Dan’s obvious attempts to keep her out of his flat. Frustrated, Dan trailed after her, following her closely down the hallway and, apparently to the lounge.

His path was cut short, though, when she abruptly stopped just inside the lounge entrance, and he ran smack into her.

“What the fuck, Izzy?” Dan bellowed, confused and annoyed. She was the one who’d wanted to go further into Dan’s flat. What the fuck had she stopped for? Dan pushed around her, taking the state of the lounge. Everything about it screamed date— and date with a man, at that. The white flowers looked lovely on the bar cart, situated between two untouched glasses of red wine. The rest of the lounge though… well, frankly, the rest of the lounge was kind of a hot mess.

The sofa pillows were all knocked the floor. The blanket was disheveled and had a very distinct white streak on it — and the towel on the sofa was covered in matching, obvious stains. There was an open bottle of lube on the coffee table, a few drops of which appeared to have leaked out now that Dan was looking more closely.

Dan wasn’t exactly sure what he expected from Isabella, but it was probably something along the lines of a screaming fit followed by having the flowers thrown mercilessly at his head. What he didn’t expect, was Isabella huffing dramatically but entering the room without comment, carefully skirting around all of the dubious objects to sit on the rarely used armchair.

She sat primly, on the very edge of the chair, her thin legs crossed in front of her. Dan wondered, briefly, if she was sitting so precariously because she was uncomfortable — he wondered if she thought maybe they’d fucked on that chair.

He almost wished they had. He almost wished he’d bent forward over the cushion and let Phil take him from behind. Almost wished that he’d come all over the cushion and not bothered to clean it up, wished that he’d stained the spot she was sitting.

From her perch, Isabella’s scornful eyes scanned the room, but she didn’t make any comment about the state of the lounge— even though it was painfully clear what had happened earlier. Somehow, the silent disapproving was almost more hurtful than a snide comment would have been.

Chucking the soiled towel to the side, Dan settled onto the sofa. He picked up one of the discarded pillows and hugged it close to his chest, relishing the small bit of comfort it provided, and waited.

“I’m not asking to get back together. It’s clear that…” Her eyes dropped down to the lube in front of Dan, “That you’re with the tarado from the coffeeshop,” Isabella finished, her voice alarmingly neutral despite the derogatory language.

Dan jerked his head once in an attempt at nodding. It was taking every single bit of Dan’s self control to be civil right now, and he knew if he opened his mouth, nothing but hate would come out.

“I’ve come to make you an offer. One that I think could be very beneficial for both of us.”

Ah hah! Dan thought bitterly, that was why she was being so calm, so un-Isabella. She wanted something from him. Of course she did. All Isabella had ever done was take take take. Why would it be any different now?

“Consider it a no,” Dan spat.

“You haven’t even heard what I have to say, Danny. That’s very rude.”

“Well, I think you’re a bitch, so. Forgive me.”

Isabella closed her eyes, long fake lashes fluttering against her cheeks, and took a few deep breaths — apparently Dan had managed to rattle her a bit. Good.

Her eyes opened again and she flashed Dan a forced smile. “Like I was saying. I’m making you an offer.” Dan opened his mouth to rebut again, but Isabella held up a hand to silence him. “As you may have seen, my appearance in the media has… gone down some since we stopped dating.”

Her voice was tense, and it looked like she was barely managing to retain her dignity during the admission. Dan bit back a hateful laugh, and merely nodded in acknowledgement.

Not that he was… completely certain what he was agreeing to. He’d hardly kept up with her media presence since he’d dumped her. In fact, he’d blacklisted her name wherever possible, so… yeah. He had no real idea.

It was a little satisfying to hear she’d fallen from grace, though.

Isabella continued, her tone carefully even. “And I’ve noticed that rumors have been flying around about you and that —” Isabella stopped abruptly, seeming to choose a nicer word at the last second. “Boy.”

Dan nodded again. His teeth dug into his lip so harshly that, if he was less worried about what Isabella was getting at, he’d be worried that he was drawing blood.

“I think we should get back together — publically,” she added hastily before Dan could react. “And if you want to keep dating the pen — Phil, that’s fine.”

Dan’s jaw dropped. For several seconds, all he was capable of doing was staring at her, trying to process, trying to figure out if she’d really just said that.

When the meaning of her words finally sunk in — that she apparently wanted to be his beard — indignant anger roared up again. “And what,” he cried, “You’ll keep fucking around with other guys?”

Isabella flinched at Dan’s harsh word choice, but clearly tried to remain pleasant. “It’s only fair that I’m allowed to see other people, if you are,” she replied haughtily. Her tone was blunt, terse.

“Really?” Dan finally let out the bitter laugh he’d been holding back. “As I recall, you took the liberty of seeing other people even when I wasn’t allowed to.”

“Suétalo,” Isabella said dismissively. She finally opened the envelope and pulled out two small stapled packets. “I had a contract made for us, and printed one out for each of us. Don’t worry, the lawyer is a very discreet man.” Isabella slid one of the packets across the table, narrowing missing the small puddle of lube. “The terms are listed on the second page.”

In a daze, Dan leaned forward and plucked the contract off the table, setting his phone down in exchange. He turned the page to see what Isabella was talking about. It was long — like, it appeared to carry onto the next page long.

“As you’ll see,” Isabella started, opening her packet to the same page. “We’ll go on two dates together each week, unless one of us is traveling. At least one date will be on a weekend night, and both dates will include drinks and dinner. I will attend all events with you, as your date. Charity events, publicity events, award shows, and other work events do not count as one of the two weekly dates.”

Dan’s eyes followed along on the paper, where each term was written in excruciating detail.

“You will start coming to my work events,” Isabella read off the next point on the list. Chillingly, this was the most professional and direct Dan had ever heard her sound — a change that was definitely alarming. “You will attend all runway shows I am a part of, and bring at least one famous friend — Phil doesn’t count.” Phil’s name still sounded like a curse word on Isabella’s lips, but at least she was using his name. “You will also stop by any major photoshoots I have. I want the media to see you actively supporting my modeling career.”

Dan’s mind was reeling. Fleeting pictures of runway shows flashed through his mind. They’d be boring, unbelievably dull. Especially since she tended to do a lot of shoots for high end women’s lingerie — something he was never planning to buy again.

Well, maybe not never, Dan thought as his eyes caught on his own nails.

Isabella continued on, not noticing that Dan’s mind was drifting. “We will also maintain a constant social media presence. We will both post at least one picture or tweet about each date, in addition to at least two other posts per week.”

Out of habit, Dan’s eyes flickered to his phone at the mention of social media, and he saw that it was lighting up with what looked like a third message from Phil. Dan really wished he could lean forward and look at them right now.

“Every other month, we will go on a trip together, which will all be at least a long weekend. Vacations can be a part of international work events, but posting on twitter and instagram is expected to increase.”

Dan looked back at the page, his eyes falling on the last term just as she mentioned it.

“And of course, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but you’ll obviously limit the amount of time that you’re seen in public with Phil. You won’t be seen out with him at nights, and if you get food together, you will always eat at predetermined unromantic restaurants.”

Everything about this was bullshit — there wasn’t a single term or idea that Isabella had presented that seemed rational or acceptable to Dan. He’d hardly even bothered to pay attention as she was reading off the contract, but this rule — the implication that he’d never get to have a night like tonight again —

That was the last straw.

Dan threw his contract onto the table, noticing that it definitely landed in the little puddle of lube. Good.

“Why the fuck would I agree to any of this?” Dan seethed.

“It’s the perfect solution. You’ll be in a relationship, so everyone will stop speculating about you and that boy. And at night, you can—” her eyes flicked down meaningfully to the bottle of lube on the coffee table, “— get fucked without anyone knowing you prefer it up the ass.”

“I don’t just bot—” Dan snapped his mouth shut before he could say any more of that sentence. That wasn’t a conversation worth having. “I’m not going to let Phil be my dirty little secret.”

“But isn’t that what’s already going to happen?” she asked simply, patronizingly. “You’re not coming out, so you’re going to have to limit your public interactions, anyway. This way, you have the added benefit of having a girlfriend.” Isabella smirked widely, looking like she well won the fight already. “People won’t pay as much attention to you and Phil.”

Fuck, Dan hated, hated the fact that there was a shred of sense in what she was saying. He was going to have to be subtle with Phil — not that he’d never had to do that in the past — and a fake relationship with Isabella really would do wonders about the rumors that were already circling, would be just enough for people’s heteronormative minds to make them stop questioning his sexuality.

“And what happens if I don’t say yes?” Dan demanded roughly.

“Well, see I already have a meeting set up with Tatler, and I did promise them an inside scoop…” Isabella trailed off suggestively, a look of mock concern on her face.

“Cancel, then,” Dan ordered through gritted teeth.

“Oh Danny, that would be so rude though!” She batted her eyes, her voice falsely sweet. “I’d have to give them a different story.”

A feeling of dread washed over Dan, rushing from his stomach all the way up his throat.

“What story?” he managed to ask.

“Turn to the next page, and read along under breaches of contract,” Isabella prompted, a note of triumph in her voice — a tone that made Dan very wary.

Dan did as she said, and found nearly an entire page of her loopy, cursive handwriting — presumably so the lawyer wouldn’t know the contents. Heart pounding, Dan tried to skim the paragraph, but his hands were shaking so much that the paper was illegible.

He didn’t really need to read, anyway, because Isabella was smiling a vicious grin, leaning forward and explaining herself. “I’d have to tell them about how during our whole relationship, you were interested in men and fantasized about them — and even how you made me wear a strap on when we had sex. About how you were determined to stay together because you wanted people to think you were straight, because you didn’t want to be gay.”

Dan’s heart wasn’t pounding anymore. In fact, it felt like it had completely stopped, and crash landed into his stomach. He wasn’t ashamed of liking men, had never wanted to not be attracted to them. It was just easier to explain to the media. But still, he’d never… strictly adhered to gender roles. He knew he had a fairly large LGBTQ+ fanbase — a fanbase that would be crushed to hear that he supposedly held such internally homophobic views.

Isabella didn’t stop speaking, still sounding smug and triumphant. Dan listened — painfully forced himself to listen — as he stared at the uncapped lube on the table.

“And then,” Isabella gasped in mock horror. “Imagine my horror when I came over one night and caught you in bed with Phil, getting fucked from behind…”

Fuck her, Dan cursed internally. He hadn’t even had the chance to do that with Phil yet, and here she was putting these false, horrible images in his head. Images of him and Phil not being as good as they’d been, images of Dan finally getting to feel Phil only to have Isabella burst in.

They’d been so fucking good for months. These weren’t the images of their first time that should be flooding Dan’s mind. Especially not tonight.

“I’m so scarred from it, it was so hurtful.” Isabella wiped away a fake tear, her long pointed nails smudging the black eyeliner under her eyes. “And then I’ll tell them how we tried to fix our relationship, how you told me to sleep with other men because you knew you weren’t man enough for me.”

The knife in Dan’s gut dug a little deeper, twisted a little further. On top of it all — the accusations about his confidence, his pride in his sexuality, his dignity… to add on the fact that Isabella cheating had been his suggestion.

Fuck. Dan’s eyes snapped shut, tears on the verge of spilling out. He felt one leak out, trickle down the side of his nose, and he willed it to disappear. Willed Isabella to not see it. Willed himself to not wipe it away and draw Isabella’s attention to how deeply she was affecting him.

“And,” Isabella sighed melodramatically, her dark-stained lips pulled into a nefarious grin. “In the end, I had to leave you because it was too much pressure and too much shame. You begged me to stay, but I had to do what was right for—”

“You fucking wouldn’t,” Dan seethed, cutting her off before she could finish her story. “Not a single fucking detail of that is true.”

Isabella cackled — literally cackled; her head fell back, a humourless laugh mocking Dan. “It’ll be my word against yours, though. And the media usually sides with the victim.” Isabella shook her head, and shot Dan a look filled with insincere pity. “But if you’re willing to risk it…”

“You bitch,” Dan roared, interrupting her again. He leapt to his feet — to do what, he wasn’t sure. “You signed a non-disclosure agreement! I could sue you for going public about my sexuality!”

“You could,” Isabella agreed, but the smirk on her face made Dan feel like he’d just lost another battle, not won one. “But it wouldn’t be a quiet trial, and when people found out you were suing me because I told the media that you weren’t straight, that would just confirm my story in their eyes.”

Dan’s heart was beating roughly against his chest, his mind speeding through a million different scenarios as he tried to make sense of what Isabella had said, tried to figure out if there was a different way to spin it.

Shit, fuck.

Dan sunk down back into the sofa, defeated. That was exactly how it would appear. And the media probably would side with her, the story she’d concocted would tarnish any good reputation he had.

And Phil.

Fuck. Phil.

Phil’s entire livelihood depended on his personality, his brand. Having an affair was about as off brand as it got for Phil. It would probably destroy him. Dan, at least, made music — music that some people would continue to listen to even after finding out he was a piece of shit. But Phil would probably lose everything. And, shit, it would break Phil’s heart if he viewers thought he was capable of such immoral behavior.

“I — I need to think about this,” Dan muttered. Against his will, he crumpled forward, his legs drawing up into his body. He was so fucking overwhelmed, so hurt. Tears pricked at his eyes again, and this time he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold them back.

To his surprise, Isabella dropped the other contract onto the table and stood up. “You have until five tomorrow evening to drop off both signed copies at my flat. If they aren’t there when I get home from work, I’m telling the other story.”

Dan didn’t have it in him to look up. The tears in his eyes were rapidly accumulating, and he was afraid that if he looked at her, if he met her eyes, he’d well and truly break down.

Her heels clacked loudly as she rounded the table, coming to a stop directly in front of Dan. Her long, manicured fingers reached under his chin and tipped his head up. A loud, wet kiss was pressed to his forehead, surely leaving behind a perfect dark red mark from her lipstick.

Her lips felt like fire against his forehead — and not in a good way. It took all of his strength to not recoil, to not give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’d intimidated him.

“I own you, Dan Howell,” she whispered in his ear.

For a split second, Dan was worried that the pretty cocktail, the expensive wine, the fancy dinner, would all come back up. The fear wracked his body so hard, so aggressively, that Dan was sure that he was about to throw up.

With a rough swallow, Dan forced himself to look up. His eyes followed her as she crossed the room, watching as she came to a halt by the bar cart and spun around again. A wicked smile painted her face, a devilish glint in her eyes. Her hip popped out, one hand dramatically resting on it.

“Remember Dan,” Isabella threatened, her voice dropping low and properly angry for the first time tonight. “If you don’t sign or if you, say, try to tell the media about this little arrangement tomorrow, I’ll just —” She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, the mirth on her face ruining the illusion. Two fingers delicately pushed on the flower vase with just enough force to send it toppling to the floor. There was a loud crash as the vase shattered, water running everywhere, the flowers falling limply amongst the debris. “Spill. See you tomorrow, Danny.”

A loud screech hurt Dan’s ears as she turned abruptly, her stilettos scraping across the wood floors. Dan tore his eyes from her swinging hips, his gaze shifting to his feet. Looking up, looking at Isabella’s retreating form, the damage of the flowers, the contract on the table, it was all too much. His sleek, black shoes were a better place for his attention right now.

When the lift dinged, the unsigned contracts and destroyed vase were the only evidence that Isabella had been there at all. Well, that and Dan’s crushed soul.

Mechanically, Dan started to kick his shoes off. He got one foot half free before he realized that it would be better to leave them on because of the shards of glass.

“Jesus on a fucking tricycle,” Dan muttered under his breath, his brain not fully grasping on to everything just yet. He shakily pushed himself off the sofa, and shoved his phone into his back pocket. He’d deal with Phil’s messages later, when he could stand it better.

Dan made his way to the kitchen, trying his best to sidestep around the scattered flowers — it was a pretty crap attempted, admittedly, given the loud crunch of glass beneath his feet

The cabinets were barren, especially since he hadn’t replaced his mugs yet. He definitely didn’t own much by way of glassware. But still, he rummaged around his cabinets, desperately looking for something he could put the flowers in so that they wouldn’t die.

Everything he could find was far too short (like his drinking glasses) or far too fat (like his mixing bowls). In the sink, Dan spotted the drink pitcher, the one that he’d made gin and tonics for him and Phil in just two nights ago.

Good enough.

Dan dumped out the watery remnants of the drink, doing his best to rinse it out a little bit even though he barely had the emotional energy to even hold the heavy glass pitcher. Hot water swished through it once, twice, three times, and Dan hoped it would do, hoped that he’d gotten enough of the toxic liquor out that he wouldn’t kill his beautiful flowers instantly. Smacking the sink handle to the right, Dan waited for the water to get cold, and then shoved the pitcher under the stream of water, numbly watching the pitcher fill.

He must have zoned out, because all of a sudden the water was bubbling over and cascading down the sides. “Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” Dan muttered, slamming the handle down to stop the water flow, and carelessly dumping a portion of the water out.

Realistically, he’d probably dumped too much of the water out — it was only just barely half full now. Fuck, was he capable of doing anything right tonight?

He couldn’t bring himself to care, though. The flowers would have to deal with half a pitcher of water, at least for tonight.

Without bothering to wipe down the mess of water, Dan turned on his heel and took the drink pitcher back into the lounge.

Now that he’d had a few minutes of distance, the mess of the flowers looked even more disastrous. Before, he hadn’t realized just how shattered the vase was, hadn’t noticed the way the piece of glass he’d stepped on had turned to crumbs. He certainly hadn’t noticed the massive puddle of water that was slowly inching its way across the room.

Fuck.

He should have brought a towel.

And a maybe a rubbish bin for the glass, too.

He was such a useless fucking bastard.

He sunk down anyway though, his bum landing right in the middle of the water, probably sitting on a few pieces of glass, too — not that he was capable of feeling that right now. Dan numbly gathered the flowers, one by one, shaking each stem off before placing it in the new pitcher. One rose had snapped in half during the fall, the stem too short to let it stand with the others. It wasn’t perfect anymore. It, too, had been tainted by Isabella.

Dan considered throwing the stem out — hell, for a brief moment he considered throwing all the roses out — but he didn’t have the heart to do it. He wanted them, they were important to him. He just didn’t want them to have been fucking touched by Isabella.

Resigned, Dan shoved the broken flower in with the others, letting it fall all the way down, and pushed the pitcher away so he didn’t have to look at it right this second.

He turned his attention to the glass. The flat, heavy bottom of the vase was still intact, so Dan laid it out as a temporary place where he could pile the broken pieces. Shard by shard, Dan picked up the bits of glass, dropping them into a small mound. His hands were shaking far too much to be doing this. Each time he picked up a sliver of glass, he nearly cut himself. Objectively, he knew he should stop. He should just leave the mess, maybe text the maid and ask if she could come tomorrow instead of Friday, and go to bed.

But for some reason, Dan knew that the knowledge that the glass was sitting here, scattered around his lounge, would eat away at his soul. He knew he’d never be able to sleep if he didn’t at least try to fix it now.

He couldn’t fix Isabella tonight. He didn’t have any magic solutions, didn’t know how to make the whole situation go away. The one tiny fucking thing that he could do was to get rid of the damn glass.

So god fucking damn it, he was going to clean up this fucking mess.

And so Dan sat, methodically finding chunk after chunk, sliver after sliver, and adding them to the growing mountain of glass. Under the bar cart, there was a particularly jagged piece — it was all sharp angles and rough edges. Dan could tell it looked more dangerous than the rest. Nonetheless, he reached out for the shard anyway, his fingers slipping as he fumbled for the piece. The top of his finger scraped against it harshly, and Dan recoiled, his hand flying to his chest.

He looked down, expecting blood, but instead saw a small red scratch leading up to his nail — his previously perfect silver nail that now had a wobbly line drawn through it, the polish scraped away.

A sob caught in his throat, and Dan drew his knees up to his chest, letting the pain and anger finally wash over him. He was furious and hurt and scared and he had no fucking clue what to do.

So he pushed the mountain of glass away, let his head fall forward, and cried.

Sob after sob wracked his body, and soon he was gasping for air, his vision blurred with tears. His body was trembling, and tears were running down his face. The fancy Versace sweater was probably ruined by now, given how many times Dan had messily wiped his nose on it.

How long he cried for, he wasn’t sure, but eventually the insistent buzzing of his phone in his pocket drew him out of his stupor. Shifting as little as possible, Dan dug his phone out of his back pocket, sighing deeply when he saw the hairline crack that was now running across the screen.

Phil :) was calling, and Dan didn’t have the heart to pick up. If he answered it, Phil would be able to tell how upset he was, would wonder what had happened, if he’d done something…

Dan couldn’t enjoy the high from tonight any longer, but that didn’t mean Phil couldn’t. He’d call Phil tomorrow, explain to him the two shitty options — a fake relationship or a reputation wrecking story — in the morning. Dan pressed the side button, making the buzzing stop, and waited for the screen to go back to normal.

His eyes stared at the fracture in the screen, and drifted up to the pile of glass. He needed to not be alone, though. Not right now, not tonight. He needed help.

Dan unlocked his phone, and tapped call on the top contact in his favorites list.

The phone only rang twice.

“Dan? How was your date?”

“C-can y-ou,” Dan’s voice was wretched, his breaths too uneven for him to speak properly. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to collect himself. “I n-need you t-to come over h-here n-now.” A broken sob escaped Dan’s throat. “P-please,” he added.

“Of course, love.” A warm, concerned voice tried to console him. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

a/n: don’t kill me. 

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Returning the Flash Drive

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG

Original Idea: An AU prompt list I found on Pinterest but was from Tumblr.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) The italic blocks of text are parts of the original project. And that original project is actually an actual original project of mine. @welovegroot @batboys-and-other-messes Posting way early today because why not and I have no self-control

^^^^^

Jason plopped down at the library computer, fully intending to just search the catalog for Sense and Sensibility, check it out, and leave.

But he got distracted by the bright blue flash drive sticking out of the USB port. There was a piece of blue masking tape on the side, with a heavily worn-out name written on it. But it was so worn, all he got was a T and maybe an e. Though it could have been a g. He wasn’t sure.

Curious, he clicked out of the library catalog window, and found the drive on the desktop. It was named, “Bat-Drive.” He couldn’t help but snicker as he opened it up.

There was a long list of Microsoft Word docs immediately there with weird file names. Angst Galore, Crimson Poison, Duct Tape and Safety Pins, For What I Love, and Winter Went Down to Georgia as some of the ones he noticed. At the very top, though, was a file that read, !!!IF FOUND PLEASE READ!!!

Jason clicked it open.

“Hi there, stranger! If you’re reading this, that means you found my flash drive. This thing is my life. Thank you so much for finding it. Please text me at ###-###-#### and say you found it and where I left it. I’ll promptly come back and get it! Thank you so much! I appreciate it!”

Jason blinked and got out his phone, already typing the person’s number into a new text message box. He closed the file.

SUPERNATURAL HIGH—DRAFT 3

Another file name caught his eye.

Knowing he shouldn’t, he opened it. The person’s little note for whomever found the lost drive didn’t have a name. Just a phone number. But the file name implied it was some form of fiction. Maybe there would be a byline.

Supernatural High

By: Me

Well that wasn’t helpful. Jason narrowed his eyes in frustration.

Chapter 1—My Roommate is a Vampire

“Welcome to Supernatural High School!” the banner read over the huge front door. I looked at it, reading the same five words over and over again.

“Wow,” I said to my mom. “I’m here.”

Jason tilted his head, attention caught. He leaned forward, laced his fingers under his chin, and started to read.

He knew he shouldn’t be reading this. He knew that someone else’s writing was a private thing until made public, but it was good. The writing style felt like someone around his age wrote it—probably a girl if the main character being a first-person narrator female character was anything to go on—and it was engaging. Creative and with an interesting premise.

Jason poured over the third draft of the story—and glanced at the page count. 102. Single-spaced. Wow.

Enraptured, he continued reading.

Vicky pulled open the A-G Freshmen filing cabinet. It took her three seconds to find Adamaris, Aaralyn (the name of the protagonist) in the front of the drawer.

Vicky snatched it and flipped open the light-yellow file folder.

“What in Hades is an aquatic hybrid?” Vicky hissed to Carrie and Vinnie.

“What?” two voices asked quietly. Carrie left the computer where she was trying to erase Aaralyn’s name from the teachers’ rolls and Vinnie left the door so they could both look at the file over Vicky’s shoulders.

Species: Aquatic Hybrid.

“Huh,” Vinnie grunted.

“Yeah… what is an aquatic hybrid?” Carrie whispered.

The light flicked on. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” a voice said from the doorway.

Jason paused reading for a moment. Who was writing this? He needed to return the flash drive to its owner…

Opening the file explorer window again, he scanned down the file names.

Me—Facebook Profile.jpeg

Eureka.

Jason opened the picture.

Weirdly, the girl looked like the kind of girl who would write the piece of fiction open on his screen. A wide, sparkling smile. Eyes full of sweetness and intelligence. A few wisps of hair caught in a breeze. She was standing on top of the Wayne Enterprises tower on the observation deck, arms thrown in the air and one leg popped behind her, obviously excited. A Batman beanie was hanging out of the bag on her shoulder.

Jason smiled and looked around the library. He couldn’t see around corners or shelves, but in his line of sight, the girl in the photo was nowhere to be found around him.

So he kept reading. When he was done, he’d turn it in to the lost-and-found or go searching for her through the shelves—and maybe even down in the children’s section in the underground level.

He was so entranced by the words that flowed so naturally, so casually, down the page that he really didn’t notice time was even passing. He didn’t notice his back muscles growing stiff or the occasional buzz of his phone in his pocket.

When he finally reached the end of the document—“Kalen’s arms found my waist as the disco lights swirled over our skin and the music beat its gentle rhythm into the floorboards and our hearts. I smiled and”—he almost flipped the desk over. Why did it end in the middle of the sentence? Why did it end at all?! Where was the rest of it? That couldn’t be the end!

In a frustrated state, he closed the document, and the picture, ejected the drive, and yanked it out of the computer. He logged off and roughly shoved his chair back. Holding the drive lightly in his right hand, he started to wander the library, looking for the girl to return it to.

^^^^^

I’d been sitting in the same spot in the library for hours. My apartment’s electricity was off for the day while some wiring was getting fixed and my laptop had broken. Not to mention the library was the only place my sister wouldn’t look for me and I’d been avoiding her for two days. Long story.

I was sitting in a worn-out old velvet armchair with Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Titan’s Curse in my hands. My water bottle was halfway empty—I’d need to get up and refill it before I left… if I ever left.

Something hit me in the chest.

“What the—?” I muttered, looking down.

It was my flash drive. Bright blue with my smudged-out name in masking tape on the side.

“Why did you stop there? How’s it supposed to end?” a voice hissed.

I looked up, one hand closing around the drive.

The man in front of me was so ridiculously handsome that my mind went blank and my breath went away. Tall, muscular, black-haired, blue-eyed, chiseled face with a jaw sharp and strong enough to cut glass. Wearing skinny jeans that showed off exactly how powerful his legs were, a white T-shirt with what appeared to be Red Hood’s red bat symbol on the chest, and a red hoodie.

I didn’t even process that he’d asked me a question. My brain was going more along the lines of, “Oh hot dang he’s handsome. How is a man that handsome even allowed to exist? Wait. Hang on. Did he say something? Shoot.”

When I didn’t answer, and just stared blankly, he sat down in the long-vacant armchair across the tiny coffee table from me, and continued, “Your Supernatural High story. Why did you stop writing in the middle of a sentence?”

I realized what he was talking about. “Oh. You read… my story…” I trailed off.

“Yeah, missy. And listen, I get that Kalen and Aaralyn totally have a thing goin’ on, but c’mon lady! He’s too old for her at that stage in their lives and he may be the hot, bad boy type but she’s so bright and sweet! What about Conan? I know he and Zurie seem to have a small flirtation but everyone knows werewolf-vampire romances are doomed so why not just give him to Aaralyn? Though, I do appreciate the whole Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers vibe they have since you mentioned that the Wolfes and the Addingtons don’t get along,” he ranted.

I blinked but didn’t say anything. This handsome stranger wasn’t finished yet.

“I also really liked the Pride and Prejudice, Much Ado About Nothing feel between Aaralyn and Kalen. Especially with Zurie, Lyric, Conan, and Ryker contriving to set them up in a very Lady-Beatrice-and-Lord-Benedick way while the Mr. Darcy and Lizzie Bennet thing can be slyly represented by the fact that he’s a pureblood fairy and therefore more respected in the community while she’s a hybrid that others distrust for being half-human. What’s she even a hybrid of? A-hundred-and-two pages and you still haven’t revealed what her other half is.”

Someone in the library shushed him.

I opened my mouth, trying to come up with something to say. I hadn’t really intended for there to be all those classic literature parallels, per se, but it was nice to know someone could pull something out of what I’d written.

“I don’t even know your name,” I finally managed to say, whispering because we were in a library.

“I'm Jason. And why isn’t this published?”

“It’s not done, genius. Why do you think?” I retorted.

“Fair point. But seriously, what’s Aaralyn’s other half? What even is an aquatic hybrid?” he asked.

“A-hundred-and-two pages of implications and you can’t figure out what she is?” I joked. “With everything I’ve mentioned and every not-so-subtle clue. From her singing at the dance to getting pushed in the pool to what happened when those three boys drowned at the school decades before she even attended and you have no idea?”

^^^^^

Jason thought hard for a second, trying to puzzle through everything he’d just read. To be fair, he’d read quite a lot in a short time and it had almost overloaded his brain.

He glanced down at the book in her hands. He’d never read the PJO series but he’d heard a lot about it. His eyes also searched the ceiling, as though still reading the text on the computer screen up there.

An idea popped into his head. He looked back down at the writer girl.

^^^^^

Realization dawned on the man—Jason’s—face. His jaw dropped. He mouthed one word. I smirked.

“There you go. You got it,” I said, a little louder than I intended.

The librarian shot us a dark look.

“Look, I don’t even know your name, but I have to read the rest of this story. Please. It’s really good and I was really enjoying it and you ended it in the middle of a sentence!”

I smile lightly. “Thank you,” I said before offering him my name. “And if you really wanna read it, give me your email and I’ll send it to you as I work on it. I’d love a beta reader.”

“Absolutely. Please. I have to know what happens,” Jason said.

I pulled my notebook out of my bag and passed it to him, tucking my flash drive securely into a zipper pocket and zipping it up. Wasn’t going to lose that again.

He handed me back my notebook with his email address scrawled over almost an entire blank page.

“Can I take you out to lunch or something and you can tell me more about your stories? Especially this one but what else do you write? I saw a bunch of titles on your flash drive but I only read the one.”

My jaw dropped open. “Uh—I mean—yeah. Sure,” I said.

Jason got to his feet and offered me his hand to help me up. “I'm sorry if I'm freaking you out. I'm just a… voracious reader—” I could tell by that vocabulary word. “—and I’ve recently been getting into more contemporary stuff. There’s only so much classic you can read. It’s a finite genre.” He pulled me to my feet. I scooped up my bag and put PJO back on the shelf. Before walking next to Jason out the door.

“It’s okay. You freaked me out at first because you never expect someone to approach you accusing you of not finishing your story when you don’t know them and don’t realize at first how they even read your story, but I'm so unused to having someone so enthusiastic about what I’ve written that I was just surprised,” I replied. He smiled.

“I really look forward to the finished product,” he said.

“Thank you. I'm excited to have someone who’s excited,” I said as we left the library.

[ladyartemisia28]

Say Amen (Saturday Night)

Chapter: 1/?

Pairings: Prinxiety, side Logicality, Platonic Moxiety, Platonic/Family Logince. 

Warnings: None that I can think of. 

Words:4708

Summary: Sanders Sides Human College AU

Being partnered for a class project causes some tension for Virgil and Roman. Until they both go to the same party and well...things happen.

Chapter 1: I Pray for the Wicked on the Weekend

~

On a Friday in a classroom sounds of idle chatter filled the room, if someone were to look through the window a light drizzle would be visible.

The teacher arrived soon after the bell, she wore a white blouse, tan sweater vest with multicolored diamond pattern, and blue jeans.

After she dropped her books onto her desk, she then began to frantically attempt to smooth her slightly damp brown bob. Before she spoke she adjusted her glasses that matched her bright red lipstick.

"I am sure you have all read the assigned books." she began. "Your task now will be to work on a creative presentation about any of the themes the work of your choosing. This project will be due at the end of the semester."

"I'd like to let you all pick your own partners for this assignment, BUT many of you elect to not pick partners"

In the in back of the room, a boy named Virgil sat. He was only half awake due to his chronic insomnia, so he didn't notice a quick look in his direction. With him being in her Creative Writing class last semester, she knew that he had difficulty with group participation.

"I will be choosing your partners for myself"

Towards the front of the room was the dramatic Roman. He was doodling ying yangs in his notebook absentmindedly as he kept an ear open for his name.

"Mr. Sanderson and Mr. Alexander"

Roman pulled from his daze he looked up. He did not recognize the name 'Mr. Alexander', he took a look around to see who was the lucky winner of his partnership. He saw that he had no one looking towards him with joy and excitement.

The teacher had moved on, so he turned to his desk mate, a friendly brown haired fella named Sloane.

"Who is Mr. Alexander?" he whispered not wanting to offend the person in question.

"The boy in the black, in the back corner, his first name is Virgil." he replied with a smile."Cute, in a edgy kinda way right?"

He turned around in his chair to take a subtle peak at him, he was a bit surprised so his gaze lingered.

The boy in question had on a black leather jacket with a gray hoodie under and under that a dark gray t-shirt.

So many layers thought Roman, was he THAT cold? His legs were clad in black tattered jeans, and on his feet were black and metal combat boots.

This Virgil had the gray of his hoodie up over his head and his face downcast. 

This made Roman ever so curious to see what lie underneath.

Not his usual type at all, but everything he could see, was very hot none the less.

"Yeah," he grinned agreeing with the assessment. "Well, its time to meet my new cohort!"

~

Virgil had actually heard that his name announced. But his social anxiety was getting the better of him at the moment. He was still gathering his courage to get up from his desk when a person approached his desk.

He glanced up and then did a second take at the stunningly gorgeous male in front of him. A delicate wisp of red hair fell in front of his whiskey brown eyes.

Scarlet pigmentation faded to orange, yellow then at the crown of his head there was a shift in hues to green. Then blue and then finally the last color at the nape of his neck was a hint of purple.

He wore what almost looked like a letter mans jacket. Tan on the body of the jacket, cream sleeves, stripes of black and red at the wrists and at the collar. Underneath the jacket was a tight fit white shirt that showed off his fit body. 

Unwillingly the thought of the Tumblr post of Dorito!Steve came into his head, it did make him internally chuckle a bit. As his eyes scan the lower half of him he saw skinny blue jeans and brown boots.

Virgil looked up at his face after a embarrassingly long time of ogling his body.

~

When the leather clad boy looked up Roman could finally see his face. His blue eyes narrowed then widened with a look of surprise. Roman's knees felt weak, he had a strong weakness with so called guyliner. Roman wondered if he was wearing light foundation, could his skin be that pale and smooth?

"Hey there, I'm Roman Sanderson." Roman declared with a grin and flourish, waiting for him to introduce himself.

Although he knew his name he wouldn't deny him the opportunity of a proper first meeting.

"And your name handsome?" Roman inquired as Virgil blushed at the compliment. He reached a ring clad hand over to remove his Nightmare Before Christmas messenger bag from the seat next to him. It was kept by his side as a sign to say 'This seat is not available don't sit next to me!'

"Virgil Alexander" his quiet gravely voice responded and ducked his head in embarrassment. Roman suppressed a small shiver at the deep baritone voice.

Roman slid into the seat to the left of him, then took out his three books. Getting a closer look at him from up close he saw his face in more detail. How could Roman have never noticed him before, he was outstanding! He had a pointed chin, full lips, the carved cheek bones like a sculpture, that Roman would kill for. His facial features were sharp yet pleasing. It was like looking at an scowling angry angel.

"So...” he cleared his throat with a small cough “I am partial to the Epic of Beowulf. I love warriors defeating monsters. Knights and Fantasy is so my jam. My nickname around the drama department is Prince Roman.”

He waited for a moment for the dark boy to contribute to the conversation. Also much as he loved to hear his own voice and get to have creative freedom. He was beginning to worry that this partner would be no help on the project if they couldn't communicate. He hated when others who didn't help to get credit for his work.

“BUT I'm guessing that you would favor Dante's Inferno." Roman harmlessly teasing him.

"Cause of my name, right?" Virgil deadpanned flatly as he stared at his chipped nail black polish on his right thumb.

"No, not because of that, even though that is a very funny coincidence." the bright boy smiled as he finally got a response. "Because it seems like you like dark things? " He then gestured towards his messenger bag and person with a large flourish of his hand.

Virgil chuckled at that.

“Yeah I do, look a bit somber.” he replied as he looked down at his attire.

“I think you look JD-lightful.” Roman complimented wondering if Virgil got that reference. JD was a villain, but he was hot.

“Are you comparing me to a sociopath?” he muttered with a slight edge to his voice, as he finally raised his head to look at Roman.

An awkward silence fell over them. Roman broke the quiet a bit louder than necessary.

“I didn't mean to insult you! I just...!”

“I was kidding.” he smirked as he interrupted seeing that Roman had began to panic.

“I understand the look is intimidating. And I get it Christian Slater was hot, so, I guess thanks.”

“Oh, you know I wasn't even sure if you had seen it.” he sighed with relief, internally he was feeling a rush of excitement. He thought that JD was hot, so possibly gay.

“Its a dark deconstruction of those unrealistic 80's teen movies, I love it. I'm also a fan of Winona Ryder, she's in a lot of my favorites. Beetlejuice, The Crucible, Edward Scissorhands, Dracula, Stranger Things.” his face brightening a little bit as he named each movie and tv show. Roman was mildly impressed by his taste in media.

Many of them were things that he would have guessed, like the Tim Burton movies. But he wouldn't have guessed The Crucible to be on his list.

“Wow, so have you ever seen the musical?” Roman asked excitedly.

“Of Heathers? No I can't say I have.” he admitted with a lift of one side of his mouth.

"It's amazing. Candy Shop is such a bop! Although I would very much like to suggest some more productions for you. Wicked, Sweeney Todd, Jekyll and Hyde, and the classic Phantom of the Opera. Oooooh speaking of Opera, Repo the Genetic Opera is a movie musical, so much easier and cheaper to watch. Repo is has an extremely gothic aesthetic. It doesn't have a stage production sadly.”

“You really like theatre don't you?”

“I'm an actor so I would say that I do. I've been in many productions both musical and straight play. Of course that doesn't mean that I'm straight.” he gave a wink at that. Feeling more in his comfort zone being able to brag about himself.

Virgil could feel the reddening of his face at the wink.

“Soooo... I WAS actually leaning more towards Dante's Inferno...” he hastily changed subject to ease his discomfort, missing the micro expression of disappointment on Roman's face.

~

"So are you going to Sloane's party tomorrow night? It's supposed to be chill and if you know him he has great taste in music." Roman questioned as class drew to a close. "If you'd like I could accompany you, you know... "

Much like the class bell going off, within Virgil's mind an alarm went off as well. He suddenly on was guard, his thoughts went to disbelief.

How could he believe anything that he is saying. His words are too charming, it reminds him of.... Virgil began to think, before shaking his head and refusing to continue down that train of thought. His mind was screaming that this guy was not interested in him.

"Yeah, no, Romano was it?" Virgil snarled at him, "I don't know what you want, but I'm not an idiot, so just stop this stupid game."

Roman was so confused.

"Who spit in your bean curd?" Roman asked taken aback.

"I know guys like you, and I don't like being manipulated."

"Excuse Me!" He exclaimed as he placed a hand on his own chest."Their are no GUYS like ME!"

"I'm not falling for this Prince Charming ACT!"

"Act, ACT! I may be an accomplished actor," He declared as he stood with a dramatic chair push, he squared his shoulders with a proud look on his face. “But when it comes to affairs of the heart, I'm never insincere with my affections! When I say that I would like to take you to a party, I truly mean it. " 

With a dramatic flourish of his hand he placed a hand to his chest and gave a look of extreme distress.

"Sure, of course you do, Princey." he scoffed as he stood up as well.

Roman gave the smallest step back as Virgil had seemed shorter than him while they were sitting. Since he had been slouching. But at full height he probably had at lest two inches on him.

“Fine, Forget it!” Roman angrily declared as he grabbed his bag and stomped out of the now empty room. “No, seriously Forget I ever said anything to you! When we work on this on Sunday lets just skip the pleasantries.”

“Fine with me” Virgil retorted as they both reached the door around the same time.

Roman took a turn to the left out the door. Virgil to the right.

~

Thinking it over and over in his head while he made his way back to his dorm room. The thought that maybe Virgil could have said no a little nicer, did occur to him. But he was so startled he just said the first thing that came to his head.

He was just going to try and go to sleep till Patton returned to the room.

Roman thankfully had already scheduled something that evening that would keep him distracted. He went directly to the drama department and picked up his sheet music for the singing portion of his his auditions. After singing through his warm up scales and the pianist came up to him and told him that he was up next. 

Agony by the great song writer Stephen Sondheim was ironically the perfect song for him at the moment.

He did flub up on the pronouns a couple of times but he easily had the feelings behind it spot on.

“Hey you seemed a little bit off today, you okay?” a person with big brown eyes and a orange beanie on their head.

“Yeah Joan, I'm just thinking of my last class. This literature class is harder than I thought it would be.” Roman replied with a halfhearted smile, he wasn't technically lying to one of his best friends. He just didn't include the Virgil part that was making it difficult.

“Well if that's all it is. ” Joan said skeptically.“You did really good today. I could really hear the feeling behind it. You really have been working on the characterization”

“Thanks,” Roman smiled fully the compliment. Joan finished up playing the piano for the rest of the actors.

“So hey are you going to Sloane's tomorrow?” Roman asked impulsively, thinking that going alone would be a bit shameful after he had been shunned earlier. Even taking a friend would be something.

“Nah, I have plans with Talyn.” Joan said as they took their papers from the piano and returned them to their folder.

“Oh, ok” he sighed dejectedly

“Ok now I know that something is wrong!” they accused gesturing with the folder. “If you were feeling like yourself, you would be bragging that you were the one to set us up!”

“I just am worried about class.”

“Class, huh.”

“What's his name?”

“Virgil” Roman said without thinking. He then tried to recover, but failed. “I mean...who?”

“Come on let's go get some food. You can tell me all about 'Class'.” Joan finger quoted and then led Roman out of the auditorium.

~

"Patton, why?" Virgil whined as he sat on his bed the next evening.

"I love you my dark strange son" a soft lilting voice announced. Patton had a strange habit of calling his best friend son and kiddo, he was a wonderful combination of Parental and Childlike. Virgil when he first met this guy he didn't really 'get' him. But he was also always in his corner, regardless of who he was fighting.

"You need to meet people"

"I don't want to meet people, I hate people!"

"You don't hate me." Patton objected with slight questioning pout.

"You're not People." Virgil muttered with a tiny corner of his lip lifting.

"Awww, Come here you Anxious Bean!" his bubbly voice exclaimed as he opened his arms wide for a hug.

Patton was a very touchy person, he hugged as a hello and a goodbye. Incidents had happened when Virgil had to remind him that he must ask if someone was in a mood for a hug at the moment. Virgil was hoping that Patton to let him stay and listen to music with the lights off.

With only a small sigh he shuffled over towards his best friends. He let Patton give him a squeeze,but did not wrap his arms around him in return.

"You are going through a tough time, kiddo." he continued Virgil visibly bristles at the mention of the difficulty he had been going through.

"I don't like when you pressure me to be social." Patton unwrapped his limbs, but kept in physical contact by holding him by the shoulders. He was trying to get some sort of eye contact as well. But Virgil kept his eyes downcast.

"I'm not saying that you have to find a new boyfriend. You could just get to know your classmates outside of class."

"College kids are even worse outside of Class."

"Now Kiddo, you too are a so called “college Kid” no need to be so gosh darn judgmental." Patton said as he let his friend escape his grasp, Virgil sat aggressively on his bed with a little bounce of the mattress.

“If I leave you all alone, you will just listen to that PG13 music in the dark. I really really think you need to do this. Don't you know I just want you to be happy?”

"Yeah I know you do...” Virgil then decided that he would get this out of the way.

"But after this, I'm off the hook for being social for the next two months, ok?"

"One month"

"A month and two weeks, and I'll go with you to the Halloween Costume Party"

“You'll actually go in costume? Not just wear a paper that says 'costume' on it?”

“Yes,”

"Deal!" he exclaimed as his soft blue eyes lite up in excitement.

"I'm glad that you are happy."

"So how do I look?" he asked as he opened his arms again this time to give his friend a clear view of his shirt. On his torso was a pink floral shirt covered in cats that said 'You've Cat to be Kitten Me Right Meow'.

"You look nice." Virgil responded as he dumped the contents of his makeup bag onto the bed. He grabbed his black eyeliner which he used to reapplied his underneath his eyes.

After finishing his face he went to his closet he took a look at his personal armor, his black hoodie with a gray grid pattern. He could cover his head with it's comforting hood, and avoid eye contact.

“Who's party is this anyway?” Virgil asked as he pulled on his converse.

“It's at my pal Corbin's house, I think his boyfriend is hosting though.” Patton stated as they left the room.

~

In a comfortable sized apartment within walking distance of the college. Roman started at his refection in the large bathroom mirror. He finished his applying his golden winged eyeliner. He dusted on a hint of highlighter on his cheeks and forehead. He finished off his look with a red tinted lipstick.

In the doorway stood a tall man with hazel eyes peering at him.

"You know that the social gathering starts in less than 15 minutes." Logan sighed as he looked at his stainless steel binary watch."And it will take at lest 20 or more minutes to get there, not to mention the hassle of finding a spot."

"Well I have to make a good impression, the people must get what they want!" Roman exclaimed as he did another take at his hair.

Roman took a glance over at him. Logan while never a slob, he also had such a nerdy style. In fact he had been mistaken for a teacher several times. He wore a black button up shirt, a pair of khakis and brown dress shoes. He was at the moment tying a plain blue tie.

"Why the Tie, Logan Berry?" Roman questioned.

"Don't call me that. If I remember correctly the saying that mother always said 'Dress to impress'. I like you also want to make a good impression. Just in a less flashy more conservative professional way." he said as "Now what do you think the four-in-hand or half Windsor?"

"Neither! What do you think that a job interviewer is going to be at the party? That they are going to see you in something with style and say, “Hmm that Logan could have had a job at our stuffy office but look at his outfit”!"

“Why do I even ask!” he fumed as he went with a half Windsor and left Roman alone momentarily.

Grabbing his gold cased phone off of the marble counter top he glanced at himself. He took a few pictures and posted them on Instagram with the hashtag #Slay.

As he left with his thoughts he returned to think of how in a different situation. Roman could have been going to this party with a rather striking date instead of his nerdy older brother. He felt unease at the memory of Virgil suddenly turning on him. Roman had thought that they had been having a rather enjoyable time. That they had a sort of connection.

He had just wanted to spend more time with him. And it wasn't like he had outright stated his lack of interest in men. He could have understood that. But that fact that it seemed to be Roman himself that he objected to really hurt.

"Parking spot." Logan said as he returned, now with suspenders that Roman had to admit made the outfit look a little better. Roman quickly removed the look of sadness from his face before turning to his worrisome sibling.

"Well we can take an Uber or a LYFT, or something!" he replied as he grabbed a denim jacket and pulled it on.

“Ooooh Lyft definitely, Uber is known to employ homophobic individuals.” Logan elaborated as he pulled out his phone to order a Lyft.

“Okay Lyft it is!” he declared as he gave himself one last look over before heading out to the living room to wait for the ride.

~

"Hey there gorgeous, how you doing on this fine night Corbin?" Roman he said to a short glassed boy with brown skin “Your boyfriend hosts a nice shindig!”

“Hello Roman, thanks. He really loves these things. It makes him so happy that I barely mind cleaning up the mess at the end of the evening.” he proclaimed as he motioned to the room with a head nod. He smiled at his boyfriend who approached with two bottles.

“Ah the things we do for LOVE!” Roman exclaimed as Sloane slung an arm around his shorter partner.

“Speaking of romance, how's the master of love and matchmaking doing lately?” his usual deskmate and friend asked kindly.

“I did ask Virgil from our Medieval Lit class to come with me here.” Roman hated admiting that he had been jilted, but Sloane was such a sweetheart that he just knew that he would have something to make him feel better. “I can't believe he rejected me. And so harshly. ME!”

“Well, he...” Sloane began.

“I mean I was so charming...sincerely charming. Not faking it like he thought!” Roman interrupted.

“SO did you bring your brother with you?” Corbin hollered over Roman to make sure that he was able to get a word in as he saw the struggle that his boyfriend was having. Sloane gave him a silent 'thank you' unseen by a preoccupied Roman. “I had a question for him for our chem class.”

“I just...” Sloane tried again.

“Can you believe it!” Roman once again continued to talk over his soft spoken friend.

“He's out on the patio, if I remember correctly he was talking to Elliot Smith.” Roman sighed as he returned to his thoughts, not noticing the look of concern that Corbin and Sloane exchanged.

“Ok, well I'll see you around Roman.” Sloane said before he took his partner's arm and they walked through the crowd.

“Yeah,” he muttered to the couple.

He was at a party! He had to do something to make himself feel better.

“Hey Enrique, Come on over here Handsome.” Roman took out a phone, as he called over an attractive looking guy with long brown hair. “Lets take a few for Instagram!”

“If anyone wants to follow me it's Prince of Romance!” he loudly declared. As a few more people got into frame he took a couple pictures with them posting different each time. From a view able distance arrived Virgil and Patton with his head bopping along to the music.

“And THAT is who I was assigned to work with in Medieval Lit. ” Virgil grumbled as he gestured with his grape Gatorade, before taking a swig.

“Seems like a friendly fella!” Patton exclaimed with a happy clasp of his hands

“Lets go talk to him.” “I rather not” Virgil stated with a gruff tone.

“Why not?” Patton asked Virgil had decided to not tell his best friend about Roman coming on to him. He knew that Patton would make a bigger deal of it than it was.

“I already am getting to know him well enough.” Virgil said hoping that would be that.

“But...” Patton started.

“Patton! Virge! So great to see you out and about!” a lovely girl with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes came up to them. “He promised to go with me to the costume party.” Patton excitedly said to the short girl.

“Yay! Virge, can I borrow Patton for a quick minute?” she asked with a warm and bright smile.

“Sure Val, no problem.” Virgil replied as he was actually very happy for the bubbly pair to take their leave.

Here that showboat was flirting with every guy within range. Just like Virgil had guessed, he wasn't really interested in him. I mean why would he be? Stupid Roman with his stupid gold phone, stupid strong jaw, and stupid waist to hip ratio of Steve fucking Rogers! Looking at the easy smile on his face as he chatted with his friends after his impromptu photo shoot.

Virgil felt a disappointment that he knew it was unwarranted.

Roman didn't owe him anything.

~

“Fuck” he cursed to himself. He wondered how out of any party he HAD to be at this one.

Virgil was unsure how long he was left alone before he spotted the absolute last person that he wanted to see.

His honey colored slicked back hair, dressed in a checkered yellow and black button up shirt and black slacks. Virgil couldn't see his feet but he was sure that he was wearing his signature gold snake scale shoes.

He felt his rapid and loud heartbeat. All the voices around him turned to buzzing incomprehensible sounds that almost sounded inhuman. He glanced behind him and saw that Jae was still there, looking for someone.

Virgil covered his head with his hood and began to search for Patton.

Walking down the small hallway trying to escape he only saw a few handful of blurry unrecognizable faces.

Virgil was sure that he was spotted, feeling dizzy he ducked his head lower. He in his confused state continued his retreat in the opposite direction to where Patton was. Struggling to remember the breathing techniques that Dr. Picani taught him.

Four in, hold for seven, breath out for eight.

His panicked brain formed an insane plan. Then as he turned the corner and entered a semi-secluded hallway like magic he saw a face that he knew. He made his way through the crown and slides up in front of Roman.

He threw back his hood and hurriedly pleaded.

"Hey, my ex is here, I need help! Please make out with me!"

Chapter 3

~

Chapter 2

[makeup-wonder-woman]

A Soulmate to Remember chap 5

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Pairing: Red Hood/Jason Todd X Reader

TW: None

Word Count: 1,814

Tags: @welcometothecity, @miss-nerdalots,@marvelsimaginess, @naturalnation123 , @suavehayes (let me know if I missed you/you want to be tagged) so I can add you to the list! Hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 5

You smiled, suddenly very tired, but still awake enough to function,"It's okay, Jason," I held out my hand and he shook it," I'm Y/N L/N, your soul mate. I'm sorry that I called you a Jackass earlier."

 This makes Tim and Damian laugh, and you smiled proudly. Jason rolled his eyes and handed you the clothes that Mrs. Wayne has mentioned earlier, an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

Then there was the roar of an engine from the same tunnel that Jason and you had ridden in before. Mrs. Wayne sighed,"Jason, take her upstairs, Alfred's got medicine for her."

 Jason's jaw clenched but he nodded, and picked you up bridal style. You squirmed a little and protested but he raised an eyebrow,"Do you wanna go up the stairs,"and motioned with his head at the large staircase.

  You shook your head,"Nope. Nevermind."

 Jason smirked but carries you up the stairs, as you both made it to the top, you caught a glimpse of the batmobile pulling into the Batcave. Jason opened the door and stepped out into a hallway in the manor, you can't help but look at the lavish manor in awe. Jason chuckles at your face and you blush," It's very pretty." You muttered

 Jason looked down at you and you advert his gaze, his voice turns gentle,"Then Ma and Alfred will be pleased that their decorating hasn't gone completely to waste."

   You carefully leaned back into him, and Jason tightened his grip on you. He took you into the kitchen where you see Alfred with two glasses of milk, and one plate of cookies and one with the chocolate cake. As Jason let you down to sit, Alfred smiled,"Ah, Miss. L/N," he passes me the cake as a fork,"Eat this and then I'll give you the pain medication," he turns to Jason,"Master Jason, I made sure we had enough of your favorites," and motions to the cookies. Jason shook his head, and Alfred pulls them back,"Suit yourself."

  You took the first bit of cake and instantly fall in love with it. You turned with wide eyes to Alfred,"Where the heck did they find you? This is the best cake I've ever eaten."

 Alfred smiled,"I've happily served the Wayne family since before Master Bruce was a twinkle in his parent's eyes."

  You nodded,"Well, if you ever needed a change of scenery, I'm just saying I probably can't pay you what you get payed here, but on the plus side- no having to give stitches, or crazy hours."

 Alfred and Jason just stared at you for a moment, and you took another bite of cake, and then they both just start laughing, Jason had his head thrown back and he suddenly looked very younger, while Alfred is trying desperately to contain himself.

"Why L/N," Alfred said as he pus the plate on a tray,"I have a feeling that I will like you. If either of you need me, I shall be downstairs," he glanced at you,"Your room is right next to Master Damian's, Master Jason can take you there when you are ready."

   You smiled and nodded,"Thank you!"

 Alfred hummed as he walked out the door and you glanced at the smiling Jason and motion with your fork"Want some?"

 Jason shook his head,"You're enjoying that enough for the both of us."

  You shrugged,"Suit yourself."

 When the cake was done Jason handed you the pain medication and you pulled out one of the pills and washed it down with the last of warm milk. He stood and offers his hand. He helped you to stand, he picked you up yet again and took you upstairs. But, when you reach the top of the stairs you asked,"Can I walk?"

 Jason sighed,"I don't see why not," then he glanced down at your wedges as you started down the hallway,"How do you walk in those, much less run?"

  You smiled,"These are actually comfortable. And Mom said I couldn't wear my character shoes, so..."

 Jason's eyebrow raised,"So you dance?"

 "Close. I was in Theatre in high school."

  Jason nodded and took you down another hallway. The paintings and other art pieces that frame the hallway are large and beautiful. Jason goes into detail telling you about them, holding your arm in his to guide you. But you were sure it was to secretly offer you support. The two of you reach a doorway that just looks like the others and opened it,"Here we go."

  The room was large, but You were sure compared to others it was small. It had its own full bathroom, and the decor had a woman's touch, with grays and a soft yellow spread throughout the room like sunlight. You tried to take in it all as Jason stood in the doorway, watching you. You turned to him,"I love this room."

 Jason smiled,"Good. Ma wanted this to be Steph's room, but she's always on Mission or at the Mountain."

  You cocked your head, and Jason simply explained by saying,"A friend of the family."

 He walked towards you and took your hand,"Y/N, I'm really glad that I met you. I might not be happy with how we met, but..." He paused as if looking for words.

  You smiled and reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes,"Don't worry, fun stories for the future, and I'm really glad we met too."

 Jason nods and leans down to kiss my forehead,"You should get some sleep, it's almost one."

  You nodded, then chewed the inside of your cheek before asking,"Could I shower?"

Jason winced slightly,"Not until 48 hours after you've gotten your stitches. Sorry."

  You shrugged,"No problem, I know a few ways around that." I hugged him, and slowly he wrapped his arms around you,"Good night, Jason."

 "Good Night, Y/N."

 He pulled away and walked out of the room, giving you one last look as he shuts the door that you give a reassuring smile to. Then you moved to the bathroom and grab the first wash cloth that you could find, grabbed the bar of soap from the bathtub, and turned on the sink. My first task was to clean your face and body. After that you wrapped a towel around you before you washed and condition your hair. You wrapped a towel on your head before going back to get the clothes that you had been given. You pulled on your underwear and threw the clothes on, the shirts was a bit small and the pants a bit big, but they were comfortable. You turned off the lights and crawled into bed.

 It's around three in the morning when you woke back up. People were yelling. No, as you listen you realized it's just Jason and someone else. It's that type of quiet yell that's more like raised voices but puts more strain on your voice. You sighed and stood, without any shoes, and decided to walk out. You rubbed your eyes and you tried to quietly shut the door. You padded back down the hallway, following the voices. They were coming from the kitchen, and you stopped as you listened,"-you have been reckless these past few missions Jason-"

"-she's my soulmate Bruce, you can't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing!"

  You took a breath to steel yourself before you entered the room, your arms crossed in front your chest. Jason turned and the anger within him seemed to lessen when he saw that it was you. Then You noticed he was still in his uniform for the Red Hood. You glanced to the man who was sitting at the other end of the table. The other man was Bruce Wayne, dressed as Batman. You glanced back at Jason,"Do you know what time it is?"

  Jason opened his mouth and you waved your hand,"You should probably go get showered and changed," You tried to give him your best puppy dog eyes,"please."

  Jason's mask that covered his emotions cracked a little, and he sighed, but you could tell he was angry. There was a spark of defiance in his eyes, but the longer he seemed the think, the more he lost his nerve and did not want to fight with you. Maybe it was because he didn't want to make a bad impression on you. Maybe he had gotten a concussion that no one knew about. Maybe he was just THAT exhausted. But he didn't say anything (out loud, he was probably cussing you out in his head).

  But you was just as surprised as Bruce as he stomped out of the room, muttering under his breath. You turned to Bruce, who looked surprised, or at least as surprised as you think he'd appeared to ever be. You stalked forward and sat down at the table where Jason had been,"Hello, Mr. Wayne."

  He cleared his throat,"Hello Miss. L/N."

 "If you're questioning wether or not I'll be trust worthy enough to keep your family's secret. I will. I know my words might be meaningless to you, but I'd like to think you'll believe me,” You calmly stared and Bruce's mouth simply staid a hard line, and he didn't say anything. You sighed and stood,"Goodnight."

 As You turned and made it to the door, Bruce uttered a single,"Goodnight."

   You started quietly back to you room, but when you turned the corner, you were met with three sets of eyes. Jason's brothers all regarded you with astonishment, because you had perhaps taken down two of the most stubborn members of the family, using only words and at three in the morning no less.

  You smiled,"Goodnight boys."

  You received a chorus of good nights that ranged in length, but made it too your room without running into anyone else. Well, you’d say that, but...

  When you entered your room again, Jason was sitting on your bed. He looked defeated, but with clean with damp hair and in a change of clothes. You couldn't have been gone but for ten minutes, making you wonder where his room was and how he got finished so fast. But instead of asking, you just smiled at him,"Hi."

"Hi," he said and you sat down by him, and he snaked his arm around you,"I'm sorry you had to see that."

  You burrowed your head into his shoulder,"Yeah, well, if your family didn't fight, I'd be really worried." Jason smiled and you looked back up at him,"Would you like to stay here tonight?"

"If that's okay with you," Jason nodded,"Just so I know that when I wake up in the morning I haven't been dreaming this whole fucking time."

You stood and went to turn off the light,"Well I get the right side!"

 Jason smirked and stood and you both climbed into bed, you laid on your side, looking at him and he lay on his looking at you. You smiled and closed your eyes, listening to him as he relaxed.