#jason gets angry enough to go dark on them

[ghost-bxrd]

How would Talon!Dick react to Red Hood having a bomb built into his helmet? 🦉

Ver, VERY angry hooting.

Jason is not allowed out in the streets for a week at least. And when he goes to put on his helmet he finds it’s gone. Even the spare two. But no matter how much he yells at Dick the Talon refuses to tell him where they are.

(They all got dropped down a cliff in the caves.)

[pinkmelodie]

The Red Means I Love You ❤︎

Summary: Jason Todd x fem!Reader. You and Jason used to date before you left to stay with the Titans. You both miss each other more than you’d like to admit, but stay out of contact. Fast forward to after he died, you encounter Redhood. Old feeling stir, and before you know it you’re bent over the motorcycle of someone you swore you’d leave in the past.

Warnings: Angst -> smut, 18+, p in v, unprotected s$x, mentions of death & terrorism.

A/N: This takes place right after s3ep2, right after they find out Redhood’s identity :3

You didn’t fully know what was happening; just that there were too many hostages in the building—all who would be killed if not evacuated immediately. You were about to run and help the rest of the titans get everyone as far away as possible before Kory pulled you aside.

You went to protest before she quickly interrupted you, “Go search for Jason.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Uhm, what?”

“Look, I have a feeling he’ll listen to you better than anyone.” she said. “Jasons not someone who can be brought down by force. Shit, he came back from the fucking dead, you think he’s gonna let us beat this new…phase out of him?” 

You wanted to argue, but Kory wasn’t someone who was wrong often. She had a good point, and you knew you had to follow it.

“We’ve got this under control,” she assured, resting a reassuring but firm hand on your shoulder. “Go.”

You were skeptical, especially when you could see Gar in the distance shaking in his boots trying to convince an old lady to let him help her down the steps, and citizens clearly getting whiplash from Connor moving them to safety too fast. Your team was…definitely something, but with some hesitance you finally turned and ran in the direction of the one member you wanted to see.

…

“Jason!” You called out, your voice echoing through the barren alley. Gotham was creepy enough already without walking in some sketchy, busted up route in the pitch dark.

You kept calling but the only response you got was your own voice echoing back to you. You tried to scratch your mind for something to say that could persuade him, but you came up blank. Guilt ate at your conscience when you remembered that you hadn’t spoken to him for months before he died. 

To be honest, Jason never had anyone in his life to begin with. He told you that along with all his other secrets, and you still broke his heart. 

You stayed with the titans, thinking he was being naive for not wanting to. You didn’t think about the fact they never once tried to help him, or ever see him as more than an immature kid. They didn’t have the energy to help Jason through his issues so they just abandoned ship, sending him right back to Bruce and his horrible coping mechanisms.

As much as you wanted to be angry at Dick, or Kory or really anyone else for letting that happen, you had to face that you played your part.

Jason Todd died alone. He died feeling like no one would miss him, like he was a failure of a Robin and a failure of a titan. Because even after everything, all he wanted to do was prove himself.

So, yeah. Admittedly the first words you chose to say were not a good idea. Probably should’ve seen that one coming, but you never were too good at comforting him. was anyone?

“It didn’t have to be like this, you can still come back to the titans!” You tried to coax him, almost immediately regretting it. You quickly shut your mouth, tho the damage was already done. You just prayed he wasn’t here—he didn’t need to be provoked into blowing your brains out. 

Only when your muscles stopped tensing and you thought you got lucky, a voice you couldn’t even recognize rumbled above you. It shot ice up your veins and you would’ve frozen in place if you weren’t so adiment on seeing him again.

“Still taking about the titans? Why am I surprised.” He taunted, tilting his head in a gesture so familiar it made your heart ache. When you spun around you were met with someone you couldn’t believe was really Jason. He was standing on some rusted fire escape, a steel red mask boring right through you. 

You tensed, but not out of fear. No, you could never be scared of Jason, not the same nerd who woke up early to make you breakfast or who secretly wore reading glasses. 

You debated messaging him for months after your breakup, paragraphs on paragraphs you never sent. You had so much to say to him before, so why now did your mind go blank?

It was hard to see what he was feeling with the mask, but you could tell he was expecting a snarky remark back. When you just stood there dumbfounded, he sighed. “Look, I’m done trying to prove myself to them. To Bruce, to everyone! I don’t have to be some fucking nobody y/n, and neither do you.”

Now that made you snap out of whatever trance you were in. “‘and neither do you’? What are you trying to do, advertise me the life of crime?”

He groaned, “I don’t know why I ever tried with you. The titans are just a bunch of fucked up people acting like one big happy family, is that what you wanted? Are you happy you made that choice?” He sneered.

There was malice in his tone, but it wasn’t real. he didn’t feel angry anymore, just betrayed.

He would’ve splayed his heart out for you on a silver platter if you asked, just for you to turn your back on him. You followed him in his dreams, haunted him every time he smelt a familiar perfume, even appeared behind his shut eyelids while the life drained out of him. You were a part of him, and from what he knew you’d never looked back when you stormed out that day.

That’s why it shocked him when tears started to well in your eyes. God, your eyes—the ones he would subconsciously buy clothes of in the same colour. “You could’ve came with me,” you whispered. 

Your meek tone broke something in him. His shoulders relaxed and in a blink he leaped down, knees bending upon landing on the hard ground in front of you. Seeing him like this; the mask concealing his identity, various weapons strapped to his thighs and seemingly more toned than the last time you saw him��you could understand why everyone was on edge.

He stood there motionless, a silent and intimidating presence before you. You both stood there in unbearable silence until finally, he lifted his mask off.

His features were lit beautifully by the dim street light, eyes glinting ever so slightly. He looked exhausted—more troubled now, but you knew, despite everything, this was Jason. Your Jason, not who he was manipulated into.

“No, I couldn’t have.” he muttered begrudgingly, “they made that very clear.”

“So what, you just become a terrorist? Is that your idea of solving your problems?”

His fists clenched in barely concealed anger. “Bruce couldn’t save Gotham, so he abandoned it. I’ll be the one to fix it.” 

“By running around in a new suit and planting bombs everywhere? Real great strategy.” You rolled your eyes, but started to blush when you stared at him too long in the plated suit that fit him perfectly. You quickly caught yourself ogling and looked away, assuming he wouldn’t catch the red tinge on your face. 

You don’t know how you ever thought he wouldn’t notice. Of course he noticed, it’s Jason Todd.

For fucks sake, the guy noticed every detail about you. The way you’d avoid eye contact when nervous, the pace of your blinking quickening when you were lost in thought, the slight heighten of your voice when you were excited about something. All these tiny things and you thought he just wouldn’t notice the way you eyed him down all red in the face?

Come on, you were basically writing your true feelings out to him in big, bold… ..red letters…

and it’s not like Kory ever specified exactly what to do once you found him… .. .

So that’s how you ended up bent against his motorcycle in some busted up alleyway, pussy spread open on his dick.

You gasped and clawed pointlessly at his covered back; nails clinking uselessly against the metal armour of his suit. 

Your own suit was pulled off just enough to get access to your cunt, panties pulled to the side so he could plunge his thick cock into you.

He was groaning more than he used to, and you could swear you even heard him whine. His pace was ruthless, thrusts messy but coordinated. He kept trying to push further inside you, pressing his body as close to you as possible like you would vanish at any moment. 

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ he rambled. Death heightened all of his senses—made things have so much more of an impact on him. Maybe he just missed you too much, or maybe he let himself forget how good you feel.

To be fair, you were far worse off than him. You would’ve alerted everyone in Gotham if he wasn’t covering your mouth with a gloved hand, though it’s not like anyone here would bat an eye to screaming.

“My poor baby just been lonely, s’that it?”He teased, manhandling you by your hips to meet his harsh thrusts. 

“Nobody to fill up this pretty hole like I do, such a shame,” he pouted in faux sympathy, as if he wasn’t balls deep at the moment.

“I’m back now. Fuck the titans, I’ve always treated you better, haven’t I?” He’s fucking your ability to form coherent words right out of your throat, but he knows your answer when you squeeze around him.

“Jay!” you moaned into his palm. Your cunt was squelching embarrassingly loud with each thrust, thighs shaking so hard you for sure would’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up. Every drag of his cock in you hit the perfect spots, just like he remembered you love.

“You don’t even care that I’m red hood, do you?” he asked, his tone full of confidence. “Nah, you don’t. So fucking wet, does my suit get you off princess?” 

He moved his hand to play with your clit, getting it soaked with your fluids. You were too cock-drunk to lie bite back, just nodding desperately and mewling out something akin to a yes.

He smirked. “Pussys sucking me in the same too, fuck- I missed this. I missed you.”

He acted cocky when he was fucking you like this because it’s the only way he was sure you even wanted to be around him. Not much to complain about when his big dick is ravaging you, no?

Deep down he always felt right at home with you. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would give up red hood for you. He’d give up anything for you, actually. Nothing mattered as long as you were with him. And he wasn’t letting you go this time.

With the ministrations on your clit and him pounding into you, it wasn’t a surprise when that knot in your stomach came undone quickly. Especially not with how many failed orgasms you had with your fingers, pretending it was him.

Ever attentive, he noticed immediately. “You gonna come, baby? Try not to get any on the new suit.” He winked, as if you were gonna squirt for him. (You have, many times.)

The cherry on top was when he unexpectedly flipped his mask back down and leaned in to whisper right into your ear with that deep voice, “come for me”

And you were gone. You came with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling. Your pussy gushed all over his dick, forming a white ring around it that you could see every time he slammed his hips.

Seeing your pretty face so euphoric was what sent him over the edge, and grudgingly he pulled out, pearly white cum shooting all over your stomach.

You spent a minute regaining your breath while he pressed gentle kisses all over your throat. He only let up when you whined at the slight pain of the pressure on your newly forming hickeys. He tucked himself back into his pants and re-adjusted his belt. You were wondering if he planned on just leaving until he took his coat off and wrapped it around you.

He moved you so you were set down properly on the back of his motorcycle and then stepped on. You instinctively laid against his back, resting your head on his shoulder and he admired you with pure adoration.

“Wrap your arms around me babe,” he hummed, affectionately rubbing your thigh that was pressed to his.

When your brain finally caught up to what was happening you gave him a confused look.“Wha- wait! Where are we going?” 

He looked at you like you were crazy for even questioning it. “Home,” he laughed, “what? Did you think death was gonna do us part, baby?”

[somewhereincairparavel]

i badly wanted dark!Jason tbh. I mean, we got a dark Percy choking a goddess, and a dark Nico ghostifying a roman legionnaire, but the closest thing we got to a dark!Jason was when he was possessed by eidolon and electrocuted Percy, or his anger when Thalia was turned into an ice statue which isnt dark enough imo. I just wanted pure RAGE from him, till the point he ends up doing something completely out of character and stuns everyone.

I mean, Jason is the son of the king of all gods, his rage would be absolute terror no doubt. His dad is an angry man, so I hc him to have his dad's unhinged anger if he gets out of control (I honestly feel like this is a necessity for all Zeus kids lol). Also, Jupiter is A LOT more unhinged than Zeus considering he's roman so jason should arguably have more craziness in him . Maybe something like sucking the air out of someone's lungs to make them stop breathing for a few secs. And Leo going "man, you gotta stop shocking us like this. Pun intended"

imagine the potential of that scene. Wasted potential yet again. smh.

[charliedawn]

What if the nurse was bad ?

I thought…What if Nurse Y/N turned out to be a VILLAIN. 😀

Synopsis: There was the rumour of Nurse Y/N going insane and it influenced the slashers to act…differently.

Jason Voorhees

The first one to lose his mind was Jason. He felt it from the start as you became distant and your thoughts darkened. He tried to help you. You were their hope and their light in darkness. He thought he could help, that you would get better. But nothing he did seem to work, and it only made him feel worse and worse as you started growing distant and more insane as time passed. Soon enough, he became more violent himself and some of the nurses noticed his slow return to his old self. And then, he became YOUR monster. He started protecting you and return to his complete muteness and murderous self…He would attack nurses and no word or anything could stop him…And you would simply watch with a smile on your face. The medical board tried to stop you, but it was no use. You were too far gone. At the end, the slashers were back to their old selves and there was nothing to bring you back from the madness that was slowly taking over you.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was the second to notice your sudden change. You were being more commanding and your eyes no longer held that same kindness he had grown to love. You seemed so cold. But, he still wanted to believe…Brahms still remained your friend until the very end—even when he saw that there was no turning back for you. At the end, he started returning in the walls and make more victims within the hospital. He would drag nurses or random people in his walls and they would never come back. Your own instability echoed within him and the rage and the loss and the suffering returned.

At the end, he dropped to his knees in front of you—his hands covered in blood after you had told him to kill for you. He looked up at you and his eyes held only one question within their depth.

Why ?

Brahms was scared.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo started spacing out at random times. He would get angry for no reason and destroy furniture. At night, he would hold his head and scream as he felt his thoughts turning dark and murderous. He didn’t know why. He had been happy for a few years in St Louis—free from pain. He had just started accepting that things were going to change and he could be happy…but then, he had sensed this sudden unease and unexpected shift. He looked up at you and his eyes widened as he saw you standing there.

"Darlin’. Please…I…" He wanted to ask for your help and held out his hand…but then you smiled. And it wasn’t your usual cheerful or friendly smile. It was a mocking one. A cruel one.

And that’s when he understood and Bo who had never felt anything but pain and suffering and who thought he couldn’t get any worse…was proven wrong. Because nothing hurt more than being offered hope and being deprived of it. In the end, Bo became more dangerous than ever. His rage had no outlet except through violence, and he took it out on anyone who dared cross you. He would protect you, but deep down, he hated what you had become—and what you were turning him back into.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy had always suspected there was a darker side to you. Sure, you acted like the saint of St. Louis, helping out the slashers, showing compassion, and trying to reform them. But Freddy had been around long enough to know that no one was as pure as they seemed. When your shift started, it didn’t take him by surprise—it just confirmed what he’d been thinking all along.

"Heh, I knew it," he cackled, crossing his arms as he watched you lose that last bit of sanity. His grin widened, eyes gleaming with amusement as you stood over the bloodied remains of yet another victim. "You never really believed in all that goody-two-shoes crap, did ya ?"

You turned to him, a slow smile spreading across your face. "I did…for a while. But now I see…why change you for the better, Freddy, when I can turn you into something so far worse ?"

For once, Freddy didn’t have a snappy comeback. The realization hit him hard, the smirk faltering for a brief moment as he looked into your eyes and saw nothing but malice. You weren’t just playing the game—you had flipped the board, and now you were controlling the pieces.

"You twisted bitch," Freddy finally hissed, though there was a hint of admiration in his voice. He didn’t want to admit it, but seeing you this way made him feel…uneasy. Sure, he liked chaos, liked causing pain, but this was different. You weren’t just embracing the madness—you were becoming it.

You laughed harder and Freddy could see your true colours now. He could see…

And yet, even as the realization set in, Freddy found himself drawn to your darkness. After all, who better to lead him back into his worst impulses than you ? You were the monster now, and Freddy ? Well, he was more than happy to follow your lead, no matter where it took him.

Michael Myers

Michael felt it long before anyone else did. The subtle shift in your demeanor, the distant look in your eyes—it wasn’t something he could easily put into words, not that he ever would. He watched you from the shadows, his protective nature shifting into something more possessive, much darker. As you slipped further into madness, he stopped trying to pull you back. He just…followed.

When the first body showed up, Michael stood silently beside you, his knife gleaming in the dim light. You didn’t flinch or recoil at the sight of the blood, instead offering him a wicked smile that sent a chill down his spine. He understood then—you were no longer the guiding force, the light in his darkness. You had become the very thing that pulled him deeper into it.

From that moment on, anyone who tried to "help" you faced Michael’s blade. He would watch you from across the room, eyes cold and distant, but never leaving your side. You were his now, and nothing—not even your madness—would change that.

Pennywise

Pennywise had always seen the potential for chaos in you, even when you were at your most compassionate. So when you started to change, it didn’t come as a shock to him—it was thrilling. "Oh, my little nurse, finally embracing the madness, are we ?" he’d chuckle, floating around you with a twisted grin. He didn’t resist your transformation; instead, he fed off of it.

"Why stop at a few lives ? You and I, we could rule this world, turn everyone’s worst nightmares into reality," Pennywise teased, his voice dripping with excitement. You laughed along, your eyes gleaming with a newfound hunger for destruction.

Together, you unleashed horrors in the hospital and the world would learn to utter your name in fear. And Pennywise ? He reveled in it, proud to have been right about you all along. He became your partner in terror, following your lead as he fed on souls. All mercy and redemption gone…

But, sometimes he would look at you—really look at you—and his eyes would lose their light for just a second…For just a fleeting second, he would look at you and remember who you used to be: the innocent and loved little nurse who made slashers believe in change. And he would feel a tug in his chest.

…He would even come to regret the old you.

Penny

Penny, unlike his brother, was more confused than delighted by your change. He’d always been the more playful one, the lighthearted monster who didn’t take things too seriously. But as you grew colder, more distant, something inside him shifted too. He followed you around like a lost puppy at first, hoping you’d come back to your old self.

When it became clear that wasn’t happening, Penny grew more frantic, trying to win your approval by any means necessary. "See ? I can be bad too !" he’d shout, laughing maniacally as he tore into the nurses that tried to intervene. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t bring back the warmth in your eyes. And that scared him more than anything.

In the end, Penny followed you out of fear and desperation. He didn’t want to lose you, but he also didn’t understand this new version of you. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up. He looked at his brother one night as they were keeping your door and asked:

"Pennywise…Tell me. Are they really…Are they really gone ?"

Pennywise didn’t answer. He knew that his brother wouldn’t like his answer. So, he remained silent and Penny became sad…

He had really hoped to see you again.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent never said a word, but the change in you spoke volumes to him. He had always admired your gentleness, the way you handled things with care and grace. But now, as he watched you descend into madness, something inside him broke. His art became darker, more grotesque, reflecting the growing corruption in your soul.

Vincent would silently stand in your presence, waiting for your orders. He didn’t resist the shift; instead, he internalized it, letting it fuel his own creative darkness. The sculptures he made of the staff you ordered killed were more terrifying than anything he had ever crafted before. But still, there was a sadness in his eyes as he looked at you. He missed the old you, but he could never bring himself to fight against you.

Esther

Esther’s sharp mind was one of the first to notice your change. She watched you closely, her eyes narrowing as she began to see through the cracks in your facade. At first, she tried to manipulate you back to your old self, using her charm and wit. But as time passed, she realized it was no use.

"You think you’re smarter than me, Y/N ?" she sneered one day, her usual mask of sweetness slipping away. "You think you can out-crazy me ? I’ve been playing this game far longer than you."

In the end, Esther didn’t fight you—she adapted. She started playing her own games, twisting the narrative so that your descent into madness worked in her favor. She would help you orchestrate the chaos, but only because she had plans of her own. Esther always had plans.

Father Paul

Father Paul was devastated. As a man of faith, he had always believed in redemption, in the possibility of salvation for anyone, even the most broken souls. But as he watched you fall deeper into madness, he realized that maybe some people were beyond saving.

He would try to reach you, try to remind you of the good you had once done, but it was no use. "This isn’t you, Y/N," he’d say, his voice trembling with emotion. "You can still come back from this."

But you would just laugh, brushing him off as if his words meant nothing. Father Paul, broken by your transformation, withdrew into himself. He began to question his faith, his purpose. And in the end, he too was consumed by the darkness you had unleashed, unable to reconcile the person you had become with the one he had once believed in.

"…I truly believed you were going to save us."

He whispered—his mouth tainted with fresh blood.

Patrick Bateman

Patrick Bateman thrived on control. His routines, his polished appearance, his hollow social niceties—all carefully orchestrated to maintain his perfect image. But as he watched you, Nurse Y/N, descend into madness, he felt something shift, a crack forming in the foundation of his meticulously built world.

"You’ve changed," Patrick remarked, his voice cold and detached, as always.

You turned to him, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. "Change, Patrick ? I’d say I’m finally seeing things clearly."

Patrick tilted his head, his expression unreadable. He stared at you with a calculating gaze, as if you were just another piece of his carefully constructed reality that didn’t fit anymore. "Clarity doesn’t look like insanity," he said, though his tone betrayed no emotion.

You laughed softly, your eyes glinting with something dark. "That’s where you’re wrong. You’re always pretending, Patrick. Pretending to feel something. Pretending to fit in. But deep down, you know you’re like me."

Patrick’s gaze never wavered. He took a step closer, his face a mask of indifference, though your words hit closer to the truth than he would admit. "I’m nothing like you," he said flatly, yet there was a hint of intrigue in his voice.

"Oh, but you are," you whispered, stepping toward him. "You’ve been hiding behind that empty suit for so long, playing the role of the perfect man. But inside, you’re empty. Just like me. We’re both killers, Patrick. The only difference is, I’ve stopped pretending."

He blinked, his face as stoic as ever, but inside, something stirred. There was no rage, no fear, only a cold calculation. He didn’t care about your madness or what you had become. But there was a faint pull, the idea of relinquishing the last shred of his humanity that kept him tethered to this charade of normalcy. He was intrigued by your boldness, by how freely you had let go.

But he remained still, expressionless. "I don’t pretend," he said quietly. "I just don’t care."

You laughed again, this time louder, more manic. "And that’s what makes you dangerous, Patrick. You don’t care. You’ve never cared. But soon enough, you’ll realize how liberating that can be."

Patrick stared at you for a moment longer, no emotion flickering behind his eyes. "Liberating ?" he repeated, as if the word were foreign to him.

"Yes," you said with a smirk, turning away. "Because when you stop pretending, when you embrace what you really are, there’s nothing left to hold you back."

He didn’t respond. There was nothing to say. He’d long since stopped feeling the need to explain himself. Whatever you were becoming, whatever madness had claimed you, it didn’t concern him. You were spiraling out of control, and he would remain steady, detached. Yet, as he watched you walk away, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Because, in the end, chaos or control—it made no difference to him.

Norman Bates

Norman was never the same after witnessing the shift in you. At first, he felt a glimmer of hope in your kindness, a belief that maybe you could help him escape the shadows of his past. But that hope quickly faded as you transformed into something darker. The gentle demeanor he had grown to trust turned icy, and the warmth of your presence became a cold specter haunting him.

"Y/N ?" he ventured one night, his voice trembling. You stood amidst a room filled with remnants of your darker whims, the glint of madness shining in your eyes.

"What happened to you ?" he asked, genuinely confused and hurt. The memory of the compassion you once offered felt like a distant dream.

You tilted your head, a smile playing on your lips, but it lacked warmth. "Oh, Norman, don’t you see ? I’ve always been this way. You just never noticed until now."

Norman's heart sank as he realized that the person he trusted most had turned into a reflection of the very darkness he fought against. "But I thought we could—"

You interrupted, your voice sharp. "Could what ? Change ? Adapt ? Look at what you’ve become, Norman. You’re still clinging to that fragile sense of normalcy. But we both know it’s a façade. You are a monster. You will always be a monster."

In that moment, the realization hit him hard. He had thought you were a beacon, a chance for redemption, but instead, you were leading him down a path of destruction. And as he watched you revel in the chaos you created, he felt his own sanity begin to slip. In the end, he would become your puppet, lost to the madness you had decided to embrace.

BONUS

You jolted awake, gasping for breath, heart pounding as the vivid nightmare clung to your mind. It felt so real—the madness, the blood, the slashers losing control, becoming monsters all over again. You clutched the blanket, eyes darting around the darkened room, disoriented and shaking.

The scream you had let out echoed in the silence of the night, and before you could fully gather your bearings, the door burst open. Jason was the first to appear, his imposing figure standing in the doorway—his machete raised and at the ready. He looked around frantically for any sign of danger—but found none. He moved quickly to your side, his large hand resting awkwardly on your shoulder, trying to offer comfort in the only way he knew how.

Brahms was next, peeking from behind Jason, his eyes wide with worry. He didn't say anything—just stared, his usual playful demeanor replaced with deep concern. He slowly made his way to your side, almost afraid to get too close but desperate to offer comfort. He knelt beside you, his hand shaking slightly as he reached out to touch your arm, his eyes searching yours, as if pleading for reassurance that you were okay.

Michael entered quietly, his presence felt more than seen in the dim light. He didn't rush to you immediately, his pace slow and deliberate. He observed you carefully, and then pulled out his notebook from his pocket, writing something down before showing you: What happened ?

He sat at the edge of the bed, his silent and comforting company grounding you in the moment.

Bo Sinclair appeared not long after, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern, as if he'd been dragged out of a deep sleep but couldn’t help but care. "Darlin', you alright ?" His Southern accent soft, the usual sharpness in his tone dulled by the worry in his eyes. He stood there for a moment, arms crossed, before moving to your side, brushing his hand over your hair. "Was it a nightmare ?"

Vincent slipped in quietly behind his brother, standing in the shadows. He didn’t make a sound, but his presence alone was soothing, as if he was there simply to watch over you in case you needed anything. He gave a small nod, acknowledging that he was there for you.

Freddy was last, strutting in with his usual cocky grin, but even he paused when he saw your trembling form. "Nightmares, huh ? Not my work this time, I swear," he quipped, though his voice lacked its usual venom. He leaned against the doorframe, watching the others crowd around you, before adding, "What kinda monster dreams are getting to you now ?"

But there was a strange softness in his voice, an unspoken understanding. He might have been a nightmare in the past, but seeing you like this—it wasn’t his domain. He wasn't your tormentor. Not anymore.

Jason stayed close, holding your hand gently, as if afraid to hurt you but wanting to let you know he was there. Brahms crawled up on the bed beside you, still staring at you with wide eyes, his head tilting as he kept trying to make sense of your distress. Michael’s calm, steady presence, coupled with the note in his notebook, reminded you that they were all here to protect you. Bo's hand never left your hair, his brother Vincent still watching from the corner, always there but never imposing.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, the warmth of their concern slowly easing the tension in your chest. You could see the lingering fear in their eyes—the slashers who had been transformed from nightmares themselves into...your friends.

"I’m okay," you whispered, though your voice still trembled slightly.

But Freddy, of course, wasn’t one to let it go so easily. "You sure about that, sweetheart ? Looked like hell got a hold of you."

You offered a weak smile, shaking your head. "It was just a bad dream."

Jason squeezed your hand a little tighter, as if to remind you that whatever had happened in your nightmare, this was reality now. And in this reality, they were here for you.

Michael scribbled on his notebook again, holding it up: You’re safe.

And, for the first time since waking up, you believed it. Surrounded by the once fearsome killers, you felt safe. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath…Yes. You were safe. Everything was alright. You would make sure of it…

[soup-spoonn]

The weight of the world

Pt. 2

Pt. 1

kind of a long part 😭 mb yall

@boohoobeach @medusas-graveyard @catostrofiqu @dandey-lion

“B has been saying that the GIW might come to Gotham.”

Danny didn’t say a word, but just stared at Dick with a terrified look on his face.

“He told me not to tell you, that’s why he called a JL meeting, but I can’t just leave you out of the loop.”

“When?” He choked out, still terrified.

“We don’t know, but…” Dick paused, “they really want-“

“It’s my parents… they’re the ones leading the GIW to me.”

Dick looked startled at that confession, then just asked, “why?”

“I- I don’t know… I didn’t know- I-“ he started hyperventilating, and Dick didn’t say anything, and just wrapped him up in a hug as Danny cried.

“I don’t wanna see them again…” he said between sobs.

“You won’t.” Dick promised kindly

-

“You told him?!” Bruce said angrily, “I told you not to!”

“I wasn’t gonna leave him out of the loop! Do you want him to get hurt? He deserves to know, he’s family! If you were left unaware of something important about your safety, that would break your trust wouldn’t it?!” Dick ranted, angry at his father for asking him to lie to his little brother.

“Yes, but he’s too young, and he already has too much on his plate, we can’t worry him more!”

“He’s almost sixteen! We don’t need to baby him! We just need to be here for him! Help him with his responsibilities, not act like he's a baby, he’s so mature!”

Bruce sat for a moment, thinking, “you’re right, Dick, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

-

Danny sat on the edge of his bed, pondering his next move, tapping his foot nervously.

If they find me, they find my family.

I can’t let them find my family.

Am I gonna have to run away again? I haven’t been legally adopted, so it should be easy enough.

Danny figured that if he could escape at night, he’d be able to go to Metropolis to ask Superman for help.

-

Poor Danny, he’s probably so scared right now. I knows I would be.

Clark let out a sigh, and stood up from his chair, shutting off his computer and closing his office door softly.

I should go above Gotham again, maybe Danny will be there.

-

It was dark out, and Danny decided he would go stargazing again, see if he could have a conversation with Superman.

He opened his window, leaving his phone on his bed, and went ghost, then flew above Gotham to his usual spot.

He sat for five minutes, until he felt a sudden presence to his right.

“Hey Danny, I heard about what happened.”

“I’m gonna run away.” Danny replied abruptly.

“What- why?” Superman asked, panicked

“You know…” Danny paused, “they’re gonna find me. I was thinking about leaving… possibly going to Metropolis.”

“That sounds like a smart plan, but you do know that Batman isn’t gonna be okay with that, right?”

“Uhm, yeah… I’m not telling anyone about it, except you. I trust you, more than anyone I ever have. I just feel a connection to you, maybe it’s that you’re Kryptonian, but I don’t know. My core feels… safe around you. Like a father.”

Superman felt flattered, happy he made Danny feel safe, “you shouldn’t leave your family. They’ll worry. They love you, you know.”

“I know, and I love them too, that’s why I have to leave. The GIW could cause them trouble if they find me. I don’t want them getting hurt.”

“Danny-“

“I know, I know, it’s not my fault or something.” Danny interrupted, “it is my fault though, if I only hadn’t told my p- them about my… condition, none of this would have happened… I’m gonna go now.”

“Bye, Danny.”

“Bye.”

-

“Danny!”

He jumped as Dick slammed open the door, looking rushed.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Danny asked, looking up from the book Jason gave him.

“You need to start answering your phone!”

“Oh. Sorry,” he replied awkwardly.

Danny picked up his phone, scrolling through the notifications from Dick.

Geeze.

“I called you like ten times!” Dick said dramatically, “you scared me!”

“I’m sorry, I went on a walk again, I just got back.”

“Danny, I don’t know if you should do that anymore.” Dick said seriously.

“But-“

“No buts.”

“I can protect myself-“

“I know that, but you should only go on walks if someone’s with you, for your safety. I’ll go with you-“

“I’m not actually going on walks.”

“What? Danny, what do you do then?”

“I go to look at the stars.”

“Wh- why would you lie about that?”

“I don’t know, the stars are like my sanctuary, you know? Or like, uhm.” He paused, pondering his next words, “when you have a long day, you like to lay in bed and fall asleep, right?” Dick nodded, “well for me, I still do need sleep, but the stars are rejuvenating for me. It’s my ghostly obsession, so I need this, you know? And anyway, Superman joins me most of the time, so if anything happens I’ll have some help.”

“Superman?” Dick asked, perplexed.

“Yeah… he listens, and gives advice. He’s helped me a lot.” Danny replied with a smile.

“Well, I didn’t expect that friendship to exist, alright then. But you still need to be careful, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

“You’re fine, I don’t mind.” He said, returning to his book.

-

THATS A WRAP FOR PART TWO!!

seriously this took me way longer than it should’ve, sorry about that 😅

lmk how yall feel about it please :D

also i’m probably not gonna tag more than four people, I don’t wanna take up too much space with it

Edit: i came up with a name :D

[too-much-tma-stuff]

We Agree to Your Terms (part 23)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

TW: descriptions of violence

They talked about Danny's conditions for helping, he had an idea what they were going to be already. But he wanted and needed Jason behind him every step of the way here so Danny talked out as much of his thought process as he could.

As they talked they watched videos as they came out, livestreams and news clips talking about the destruction being caused by the new, unidentified threat. The videos were grainy and corrupted, as most videos of ghosts were, but most of them were clear enough to see what was happening, especially the ones that were taken from a bit of a distance. Those ones were less likely to come to an abrupt bloody end.  

They watched as heroes arrived on scene, and along with them the drone that Danny had infused with ecto so they hacked into its stream instead. Danny was amused to see that it was occasionally ignoring directions, apparently it had developed a little bit of a mind of its own but it was still doing its job.  

The heroes quickly realize most of their attacks had no effect at all on Pariah Dark. The only ones who seemed like they could touch him were Raven, John Constantine, and of course, Phantasm. But all they could do was slow him down and try to buy a little more time for the other heroes to evacuate as many civilians as they could. Danny tensed every time Ellie had a close call, but he couldn’t rush off to save her. Not yet.

The destruction was hard for him to watch, people were dying, and not just a few. The skeleton army and Pariah himself were ruthless and entirely without remorse. Danny saw more than one truly impressive spray of blood, limp bodies falling to the ground and after the first couple he watched with dissociative disinterest. More lives were ruined then just those who were ended, homes were being destroyed, one town was already all but levelled and those who had been evacuated in time would have little to nothing to go back to, it was a major humanitarian disaster in progress. 

They watched an interview as one of the GIW agents arrived on scene, at first they were barely able to disguise their glee as they explained that this was a ghost. Ghosts were dangerous and unfeeling blah blah blah, all their usual talking points. But not to worry! The GIW had the weapons and knowhow to deal with this threat! 

This was what they had wanted the entire time after all, a ghostly rampage to prove their worth to the world. Or at least this was what they thought they wanted, if only it weren’t a matter of minutes before it was completely obvious they were outgunned and untested. All they were good for was meat shields to get the civilians out, and at least Danny could find some joy in that. Watching those all too familiar white suits get ripped up and stained red with blood soothed deep, angry aches imprinted on Danny’s core. He couldn’t help but laugh at their futile fight, some got a few lucky shots off, but at best they took out a handful of skeletons, and Pariah could always summon more of those.

 Then the GIW weren’t even good as meat shields. They had barely bought a few minutes of time for the evacuation efforts before half of them broke and ran! Booking it as soon as it was obvious this was a real threat, and not something they could deal with with their stolen and half baked weapons. The selfish cowardly little cringelings! 

Danny snarled and curled his fingers into claws, barely resisting digging them into Jason’s arms as he held Danny close and made soothing noises. He had never felt so much disdain for another creature as these wannabe heroes who weren’t actually interested in anything besides their own glorification. 

“It won’t be much longer,” Jason soothed Danny, “They’re running out of ideas I’m sure, they’ll call soon. I’ve already declined three calls from Batman.” They had decided not to answer Bruce, he’d probably want them to do the ‘right thing’ with no guarantee of any change and that wasn’t something they were interested in. Danny was waiting to hear from Diana, or maybe one of the leaders themselves.

It was Diana who called, which made sense since Deadman probably didn't have a phone. Jason picked up her call after the first ring which was sure would annoy the hell out of Bruce knowing that his calls were being purposefully screened. 

“Hello, thank you for answering, Red Hood. I wouldn’t have blamed you and your Lover for leaving this world to its fate,” She said with bitter rage. “But I believe these ninnyhammers are ready to see sense. Will you come back and give them a second chance?” She asked patiently. Danny wondered if Themyscira would be alright even if the rest of the world fell, most Gods had to be some sort of neverborn and they protected the island of the Amazons right? Maybe Wonder Woman’s people would be okay.

“We’ll come, but we’re no longer willing to compromise,” Jason growled into the fun.

“Understood,” Diana said in a clipped tone and Jason hung up.

“Are you ready Danny,” Jason asked softly as he pocketed his phone again. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Danny sighed. “Let's just get this over with before anyone else gets hurt.” He straightened and dipped down to re-enter the meeting hall, through the ceiling this time. Danny’s makeshift throne was still there so Danny went straight back to it and sunk down into it, Jason standing at his shoulder again. He couldn’t really help with this other than supporting Danny, and being proud of him for taking charge like this. It was a far cry from how subservient he had been early on. 

Danny had grown so much, and so had Jason. When he was newly back in Gotham so full of rage and so much to prove he wouldn’t have been able to stand behind anyone in silent support. Hell he probably would have shot this place up for talking to Danny the way they had before he’d been in therapy. This was a bitter thing, having to stand in front of this meeting, but it felt like a culmination of their growth. 

“So, you called me back,” Danny said as he leaned back in his icey throne, making it look far more comfortable than it truly must be. 

“You have to do something about this,” Someone demanded, Danny didn’t bother to seek out who it was since he didn’t recognize the voice. 

“Do I?” Danny laughed. “Because I thought you just finished saying it was your job to protect your people.”

“But this is a ghost, this is one of yours!”

“Technically, No he’s not,” Danny grimaced. “That’s the previous king so he currently outranks me. Besides I could defeat him, but he’s not a threat to my people right now. So no, I will not help. I will, however, accept your surrender.” 

“What?” Agent W yelped, why she was still present Danny had no idea. 

“You heard me. He will keep going, he's obsessed with expanding the ranks of the dead he rules. He's attacked the earth before, and I'm sure you remember who it was who defeated him then,” Danny said, turning his gaze to agent W.

“Well it was a couple of our correspondents, the Dr's. Fenton. They-” She blustered.

Danny made an incorrect buzzer noise. “Wrong, some of their tech was used but who was wielding that tech?” He demanded, staring her down. “You're under oath, don't even think about lying.” 

She didn’t answer, but the lemon bitten expression on her face was answer enough really.

“That's right! Last time he broke through I saved the world from him, and my thanks was being captured and tortured. I don't plan to make that mistake again. This time if you want my help you will agree to my terms before I take care of the problem.” 

“And what are your terms?” Diana asked, despite everything she sounded patient and calm, bless her. 

Danny nodded to her gratefully and braced himself before he started talking. He needed to sound confident and reasonable, he didn’t want to sound angry but he also couldn’t leave any doubt he was serious. He did not want to waste any time debating. 

“One; I want the anti-ecto acts repealed and ghosts added to the meta protection acts. Two; I want any active portals to be handed over to the combined control of the Justice League, myself, and my court. Three; I want to be the one called if there are any future issues with ghosts so they can be dealt with through our justice system. Four; I want diplomatic immunity for me and my betrothed. Finally; I want all high ranking members of the GIW handed over to my court so I can be sure they see appropriate consequences for their actions.” 

“You can’t expect us to hand over our-” The American representative started.

“I don’t care what you’re about to say,” Danny interrupted, holding up his hand to stop them. “And I’m not interested in negotiating. If you’re not ready to agree to my terms I’ll wait. But you better not make me wait too long, because casualties are stacking up and before I agree to help I’ll need a signed surrender, and agreement to my terms.”

“Esteemed leaders, there is one more thing that we can try,” Agent W spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention to her. At least she had the good sense to look nervous, but it seemed like the GIW wasn’t ready to give up, annoyingly enough.

“What is it?” Batman was the one to ask, this time he wasn’t even trying to hide his suspicion. 

“We have another weapon, developed by Fentons and further refined by us. We didn’t want it to come to that because it’s a more destructive weapon, hard to wield, and expensive to produce. But we have developed an ecto-missile that-”

“No!” Danny interrupted glaring at her. “You built that missile to try and destroy the ghost zone itself. It’s not safe to-”

“It’s an ectoplasmic weapon it’s not dangerous to-”

“Ectoplasm is clearly still dangerous to humans! Otherwise ghosts wouldn’t be the threat you clearly think they are. Besides to increase the destructive energy and fallout I Know you tried to add nuclear energy. If you fire that thing you will cause more harm to civilians then to the enemy you’re trying to destroy! I don’t know how big you made that thing, but given that you wanted it to destroy an entire dimension, how much of North America are you willing to sacrifice in the hopes it might take out Pariah Dark?”

“What other options are you giving them!?” She snapped at Danny, but he could see the desperation on her face. She knew if they did agree she would be handed over to his justice so he could hardly blame her for grasping at straws.

“To agree to my terms. As soon as the documents are signed I will go fight him. I have a good track record of keeping civilian casualties to an absolute minimum once I’m involved. How many people from the GIW will you have to hand over? A couple dozen? To save thousands of civilian lives, rather than sacrificing hundreds of civilian lives to maybe stop the threat. I think I’m offering a very good deal,” Danny said. He was trying not to sound desperate, but he didn’t want to see any more people hurt then necessary and he was scared they were about to make a terrible mistake.

“You expect us to surrender-”

“He’s not even asking for the reparations he would almost certainly be due!” Wonder Woman snapped, her tone generally startling Danny with how furious she sounded. “His terms are downright kind. You should agree to them.” 

“I have sent the requirements to a friend of mine who is drawing up the contact,” Batman growled. “When you come to your senses the surrender will be ready to print and sign.” 

Danny felt a little tension bleed out of his shoulders at the tacet agreement from Batman. He had been worried that he wouldn’t, and he had been worried that if the leaders or their lawyers wrote the document they would put in some sort of trick or trap that he wouldn’t be educated enough to catch. He didn’t think that Batman would pull something like that. He might have been smart enough to do something like that, but he was fair and he didn’t like those sort of sneaky tricks. Not with them, not if he wanted any of his kids to keep talking to him anyway.

“Good, should we leave again so all of you can consider?” Red hood asked, standing straight with his hands loose at his sides. “I don’t want to see you have to watch you weigh these people’s lives against your pride,” He spat contemptuously.

Danny nodded and pressed his palms against the arms of his throne, ready to push himself up. He didn’t want to see that either, he could feel the mounting death toll churning in his gut with every passing minute spent here deliberating. He hoped he would be a better leader than these people at least, more decisive and willing to make the hard choices even when it scared him.

“There’s no need for that,” Someone spoke up and when Danny looked up their mouth was set into a firm line. “The decision is obvious isn’t it? We would have to be mad to prefer wanton destruction over a reasonable compromise to gain a new ally. That is what it means that we’d call you for future ghost problems, correct?” 

“Yes that is what I meant,” Danny said, settling back in his seat. “I don’t think there will be many issues, especially once we have joint control of existing portals, but if there are, call me as soon as you can. I will make sure they are dealt with quickly and with minimal damage," he assured.

Not everyone looked happy about the solution, but Danny didn’t care. If they dragged their feet signing the paper damages would be on their heads, not Danny’s. A staff member came running in with a piece of paper and Batman got up to meet them, it was two pages but it looked like the second was basically just lines for signatures. 

“Do you want to have a look at it first?” He asked Danny, in a surprisingly gentle voice walking over and offering him the paper. 

Jason was the one who leaned forward and took it before Danny could. Batman seemed a bit surprised but relinquished it to Jason with a barely perceptible nod and stood by, waiting to take it back when they were done. Red Hood glanced over it and then handed it to Danny, who gave him a small smile and a nod before taking his time to read the document. Yes they were in a rush but it was only one page and he wanted to make doubly sure it covered everything he needed it to cover. And it did, it had Danny’s list of terms of surrender reworded into formal language and asserted that by signing the document they were agreeing to the Ghost King’s terms.

He handed it back to Batman with a nod of approval. Batman nodded back and went back to his seat, handing it to Diana who read the terms of surrender aloud to the room. She signed it without hesitation once she finished reading it, and passed it to the leader next to her. It was at that point that Agent W started to have a meltdown, a sight that really amused Danny as she started screaming they couldn’t do this, they couldn’t hand her over to those monsters. She was quickly escorted out of the room and he just hoped that she was going to be held in custody or she might make a break for it. It was going to take a bit to round up all the members of the GIW he wanted he was sure, oh well, he could be patient. 

Around the room it went, some hesitated to sign more than others, but no one completely refused to sign it. As time went on and new death tolls came in and got higher and higher those who hesitated too long were booed down quickly. The urgency was starting to set in as it finally processed that this was really happening. This wasn’t exactly the begging Danny had hoped for, but given how stupidly proud a lot of human’s were, this was good enough.

Finally all of the leaders had agreed to the terms. An attendant was sent out of the room at a run to copy the document so that Danny could have a copy and so could the Justice League. Danny couldn’t help starting to fidget at that point, he was itching to Go! Both to end the suffering of the people in the path of destruction and to finally end this once and for all. The threat of Pariah Dark and his eventual crowning had been hanging over his head for years, it was time to face his demons and beat the shit out of them. 

As soon as he got the paper and had glanced it over he stood and handed the signed surrender off to Jason. “Great! I’ll be going to deal with Pariah now, the rest of you can make yourself useful and start rounding up the GIW.”

“We will,” Diana assured, looking determined and angry. 

“Great,” Danny said and grabbed Jason before flying out of the building through the ceiling again and back towards the US as quickly as he could without damaging Jason. 

“You had better not be planning to drop me off somewhere away from the fight,” Jason shouted over the sound of the wind. “I’m coming with you, both my brother and your little sister are there! I want to try and make sure Robin and Nightwing don’t get hurt.” 

Well, at least he wasn’t talking about trying to protect Danny. “I won’t,” Danny agreed with a resigned sigh. “I have a feeling that trying to leave you somewhere would just piss you off and you’d find a way to get in trouble anyway.”

“You’re damn right I would,” Jason promised, and Danny both hated him and loved him for how damn smug he sounded.

Once they were close enough for a running drop off far enough away that Pariah wouldn’t spot them and try to shoot them out of the sky. An experience which could barely inconvenience Danny and completely destroy Jason. Once Jason was safely on the ground Danny was face to face with Pariah Dark in seconds. 

“Aha! The little king finally shows himself,” Pariah sneered mockingly. “I assume this means you’re ready to be destroyed.”

Danny expected to be scared, to feel impending doom and anger. But he looked at this specter of his childhood and he felt… nothing. After everything that he had been through, Pariah didn’t scare him anymore, and he certainly didn’t hate him like Danny did the GIW. He was just an irritation, a barrier to the life that he wanted. 

“Shut up and let’s get this over with,” Danny snarled and sent a blast of energy toward Pariah that he barely managed to dodge by flying up to meet Danny in mid air. 

Danny was ready for him.

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Hi! I love your blog so much. I was hoping you could write what yandere!batfam would do if the reader just barricaded themselves in a room and does everything to make sure batfam can't get in. I hope you have a great day and drink plenty of water.

Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog, and I am absolutely going to do a snippet for this!

Warnings: (implied) hunger striking, captivity, themes of obsession, violence, and threats of restraints as well as physically restraining someone.

“You know that’s only going to hold us out for so long, right?”

It’s Jason. You don’t respond, keeping silent. It was just another trick, you knew, to get you to open the door.

Not that they only needed a door. You’d shoved the massive bookcase in front of the window, shoving your bed in front of it. Your desk, and the final bookshelf, had gone to block the door.

You had no doubt it wouldn’t hold them long. It just had to hold them long enough.

“Come on, kid, think about this. Open the door, and I’ll try and talk the old man down from taking the damn door off it’s hinges.”

You hiss softly in alarm, because you had thought Bruce was gone. You thought he was away, in Nepal, in a business trip. Otherwise there was no possible way you would have been able to pull this off, you knew.

“You didn’t know the old man was back? He got a call from Dickiebird, he’s on his way to the Manor as we speak, kid. You really want him to start breaking down the door? He will, you know it.”

You keep quiet, fingers buried in the soft carpet, and try to focus. Try to breath. Bruce being here changed things. Dick being here changed things.

“Who’s all in the Manor?”

You manage to croak out, and Jason pauses.

“Not sure I should be telling you that, kid. I’ll cut you a deal, though. Tell me why you’re pulling out the anti-siege tactics and I’ll tell you some names.”

You shake your head, before you remember that Jason couldn’t see you. That was fine.

“No deal.”

You weren’t going to be explaining to them that you felt suffocated, more often than not. That they were always there, constantly hovering, a hand on your shoulder or an arm linked around yours. That you had so little agency that you felt you were going insane, on a good day.

“Then guess you’re gonna be in the dark. Head up, though. Golden Boy’s pissed.”

That manages to rip the air from your lungs. Dick was scary as hell when he got angry, scary enough that out of all your siblings captors, his anger would immediately send you into a near frenzy. He got fucking mean when he was mad, and he knew how to use his words to cut to the bone.

“What and you aren’t?” You taunt, frantically trying to stop the way your heart thunders in your ears and the way your blood pulses in your veins.

“Oh no, I’m pissed. Pissed enough I’m keeping this door between the two of us, because I don’t want to traumatize ya.” It’s- it’s almost cheerful, the way he says it, so matter of fact, but the words are phrased in a way that you know they’re true. Every syllable is tense and clipped, not quite grit out and hidden behind the easygoing bluster.

“Yeah, well, I’m also pretty into keeping the door between us.” You snap, because you are impulsive and dumb and holy shit you did not think this through.

You hear the faintest sound from Jason, and when he speaks again, his voice is sharp, sharp enough you cringe back and try not to panic.

“I fucking bet, you brat. What exactly are you planning to get out of this, huh? Planning on going on a hunger strike or something?”

The door rattles in the frame, and you yelp, alarmed.

A sigh, and when Jason speaks again, it’s softer. Cajoling.

“Listen. Bruce and Golden Boy are gonna be here soon. We can do this two ways. You either open the door, apologize to me for being an absolute menace and driving me insane, or it gets busted down, and you leave the room anyways, except with a lot more yelling and a lot higher chance of Bruce not letting you out of his sight for months. Literally.”

You bite your lip, hands fisted in the rug.

“I’m not opening the door, Jason.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You hear his footsteps leave. For a second, you take a moment to breathe, air whistling between your teeth, the AC loud in the quiet room.

“Open the door.”

You jump, nearly leaping a foot in the air, and the startled sound dies in your chest, eyes wide.

Bruce. Bruce was on the other side of the door, right now, and he was pissed. Pissed enough that his voice had that gravelly, rough quality it got when he was being stern and already mad as hell but trying not to show it.

“No.”

Your voice sounds small, even to you. You try to ignore it.

The door rattles on it’s hinges. It seemed, with a locked door and several heavy oak dressers between you and him, he was determined to move both. It rattles again, this time louder, and you shriek in alarm when the desk creaks. How fucking hard was Bruce hitting it?

“(Y/N), unless you want me to break this door down, open the door.” Bruce sighs after he speaks, and then breathes in, like he was trying to calm himself down.

“I know you’re scared right now. But just open the door and come out, and we can talk about why you did this, okay? I’m sorry I frightened you.”

You feel tears prick at the side of your face, feel the anxiety and the nervousness and the fear. You want to shake your head.

You don’t say anything, and he sighs again.

This time, it’s not just the door that rattles. The desk shudders, straining against the weight thrown against it, and the shelf creaks, then sways.

You’re smart enough to back up and away before it comes crashing down. Not that you don’t doubt Bruce knew you were away from the shelf, or he never would have risked toppling the heavy thing.

When he ducks through the doorway, picking his way over the shattered desk and shelf, you back away, hands trembling. He pauses.

“(Y/N). Why don’t you come over here so we can clean the mess up, and we can talk about this in a bit? Just take a breath, okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. It makes some of the anger drain from his features, that you weren’t hurt, but you don’t get any closer and his lips press into a thin line.

“(Y/N). Come here.”

It’s stern. It reminds you of the same voice he uses every time you try and escape or fight with your siblings. It makes your stomach twist.

Your eyes flick to the door, and Dick, who was standing not far from the door way, sharp blue eyes watching you for any movement.

You make your decision, swallow, and ease forward.

Warm arms wrap around you the second you’re in reach, pressing you against Bruce’s chest, and you feel a bit of the tension in his shoulders unwind, just barely.

“This isn’t happening again, (Y/N). Do you understand me? What if you had gotten hurt, when the shelf came down? What if you had gotten hurt when you were in here and couldn’t say anything?”

Bruce was pissed, and he grips you tightly, tightly enough that you squirm in his hold, which only makes him grip you tighter.

“I wouldn’t have gotten myself hurt! It’s practically an empty room half the time, what could I have hurt myself with?”

God, you hated it when your mouth ran faster than your thoughts.

“That’s not what matters.” Dick cuts in. “The issue is that you could’ve, and we couldn’t have done anything about it!”

He pissed, practically spitting out the words, and you can hear Bruce’s frown.

“Dick, you need to calm down.”

“No! This is the fifth time this month they’ve tried something, you have to do something, Bruce! It’s stressing everyone out!”

You open your mouth to argue, ready to defend yourself because you hadn’t asked for any of this, but Bruce speaks before you can.

“I will.”

And suddenly you are far more preoccupied with trying to prevent Bruce from picking you up, twisting and squirming to get away, but he catches you easily. He presses you against him, this time the action restraining, and lifts, taking your feet off the ground.

The entire trip through the Manor, you are twisting and pushing against him, trying to escape. You nearly get close, once, when he was adjusting his hold and you had snapped your teeth at him, but Dick had lurched froward for a moment and it had startled you so badly that you had frozen, giving him time to readjust.

You’re dumped on a medical cot, and when you see the straps on either side, it nearly takes the both of them to hold you down long enough to get them on. Bruce looks pained the entire time, as you kick and flail, and when they’re both done, your arms are strapped securely enough that yanking on them does nothing.

“Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Bruce frowns, and then sighs, moving the cot. You’re moved with it, and you glare. “This is only temporary until we find a more permanent solution, (Y/N). Until we can trust you not to be a danger to yourself, alright? It won’t last long.”

Dick doesn’t look like he agrees.

You don’t either.

[amomentsescape]

Sorry if the request is too weird for you, sometimes I can't tell if I'm being weird.. or just worrying too much, but could I request Slasher headcanon, if the reader gets pregnant? If you're comfort with that

Slashers React to Reader Getting Pregnant

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

A/N: No worries at all! It's a great request, thank you! :)

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy of course, a mix of angst and fluff (not all Slashers are happy about this)

DARK THEMES: A few of these Slashers will mention not keeping the child (Brahms is especially dark and is a bit Yandere themed).

Freddy Krueger

When you first tell him, he just laughs

There's no way you're being serious right now, right?

But when he sees you're not laughing, his grin turns into a frown

"That kid's not fucking mine"

Becomes angry

Freddy is barely even human at this point, there's no way that he could have had anything to do with your pregnancy

He kicks you out of the dream world and leaves you alone in your room to cry

It takes about a week before you find yourself back in his world, facing a very serious looking Freddy

Instead of him yelling at you like you expected, he just pulls you into a hug

He whispers an apology so low that you can barely hear it

When you pull back, he tells you that he needed time to think it over

But being a father wouldn't be so bad

He could turn the dream world into a kid's wonderland

Plus, he still cares about you

He still doesn't know how this happened, but he's come to just disregard that now

Michael Myers

Michael does not like children, nonetheless, having one of his own

You knew this, so the idea of telling him just scared you in all honesty

You pushed it off as long as you could until you knew you couldn't wait any longer

When you finally sat him down and told him, he was pissed

Told you to get rid of it

If you decide to, then things pretty much go back to normal

But if you say no, Michael will be gone

You'll wake up in the middle of the night some random time and find that you're alone

His things will be gone and there will be no trace of him

He'll leave enough food and drinks for you to survive a couple weeks

But that'll be it

You'll never see him again

Jason Voorhees

When you first told him, he literally just freezes up

You don't know what to do, becoming worried he is just going to walk out

But then he suddenly engulfs you in a hug, rocking back and forth

He may not be able to physically show it, but he is ecstatic!

He never thought he'd find someone who loved him, nonetheless want to start a family with him

So the idea that soon the cabin will have a mini you or him running around makes him so happy

Just know that his protective instincts are going to go into overdrive

Will not let you lift a finger

Will engorge you in literally every treat you can think of

And he will not let you leave the cabin unless he goes with you

He's protecting two precious lives now

He won't be flexible on that

But he makes up for it with his attentiveness

He makes less trips out unless you need something

He turns his attention on building a nice crib and area for your future child to rest and play

The idea of being a father just brings a whole new light to him

Thomas Hewitt

Oh my god

Thomas is floating in heaven right now

You? Carrying his child?

He's quite literally a puddle on the floor

He even begins to cry, inevitably causing your own tears to flow despite doing your best to hold them back

If you thought Thomas already spoiled you too much, expect for it to triple

Will cook for you 24/7

Even when you're not hungry, he still tries to get you to eat something since "you're eating for two now"

Will rub your feet and your back a few times a day, but especially before you go to sleep

And if you have any weird cravings?

He'll get them for you without a single hesitation

Thomas will definitely be the type to kneel down and kiss your belly

He's still just amazed that you could possibly be carrying his child in you

It really triggers his romantic side

Bubba Sawyer

When you tell him, he almost thinks you're kidding

You have to reassure him a few times before he finally believes you

But once he does, he's jumping and sprinting around the house

He tells his whole family immediately, not being able to hold his excitement inside

He picks you up and twirls you around, placing hundreds of sloppy kisses on your face

Will rub your belly and just stare at it fondly

He'll have trouble letting you do anything on your own though

Even needing to go the bathroom involves him picking you up and carrying you there

He becomes so worried about hurting the baby too

There was a short amount of time where he'd only hug you from behind because he thought hugging you normally would squish the child

He's so caring and yet so clueless

But you better believe that he will be such a loving father

You just need to keep an eye out though, or else Bubba will spoil that baby rotten

Brahms Heelshire

At first, he has mixed feelings about the situation

The idea that his own flesh and blood is growing inside of you makes him feel... good in a way?

It's like the ultimate possession in his eyes

He's quite literally a part of you now

But at the same time, the idea of raising a child and having to share your attention pisses him off

You're supposed to take care of him and follow his rules, not somebody else's

Even if that somebody else is his own kid

If you choose to stick it out and have the child, you'll notice things seem fine at first

Brahms may even offer to feed and look after the baby while you rest

The issue arises when a couple weeks into taking care of them, Brahms starts to feel cold

The baby requires so much of your attention- too much

They cry and cry and cry and won't give either of you a break

Brahms eventually snaps

You wake up one day to find the baby gone without so much as a trace

Brahms feigns innocence, but you know

Brahms is now for certain that there can only be him

Norman Bates

You're pregnant?

Oh, he's ecstatic!

He immediately has to tell Mother, of course

He's so attentive with you too after you tell him (not that he wasn't before)

Will keep track of your most common cravings and will stock up on them so you always have them on hand

He's already buying baby clothes at the store too even if you both don't know the gender quite yet

He'll tell little stories to your tummy, always ending them with a soft kiss

You notice that he's even more gentle than normal with you too

The way he hugs you and cuddles you at night is very soft, and he only gives you feather light touches

He's not even aware of it himself

He's always dreamed of raising his own family, but he wasn't sure that dream would ever be a reality for him

But he just knows you'll make a great parent, and he hopes he will too

Billy Loomis

When you first share the news, you have no idea how he'd react

He never really discussed having kids, and you weren't sure this would be something he'd want

When you told him, he just looked at the ground with a cold expression

When you probed him again, he looked at you

Accused you of cheating

After several times of telling him you didn't, he tells you that he can't do this

He wasn't ready, he was pretty sure he didn't even want kids, how could you do this to him?

This all built up until he stormed out, leaving you there hurt and teary eyed

You don't hear from him for a month

You're certain that's the end of that, and you were going to be left to raise this child alone

But he suddenly comes back, a baby blanket in his hand

To your confusion, he begins to apologize and tell you that he panicked

After taking that time away to think over everything, he realized that the last thing he wanted was to be like his father

He didn't want to just abandon his own child

He ends up sticking with you for the birth and after

Although a little rough around the edges, he ends up becoming a good father and even better partner for you

Stu Macher

He kind of immediately panics the moment you tell him the news

Not necessarily in a bad way, he just feels so unprepared

Of course, he's thought of creating a family with you

But that was supposed to be like 10 years from now

This feels too soon, and he's not sure he's quite ready for this change yet

But at the same time, he can't ignore his excitement

He loves children, and knowing that you'll be having his very own son or daughter makes his heart warm in a way he didn't think it could

Will spend the night thinking everything over

And by the next day, there's already a crib, toys, and 20 boxes of diapers setting by the bedroom

You're honestly in awe with how quickly he shifted his thoughts from the previous day

Will sit down with you and reassure you that he's going to stick it out with you

Everything will work out as long as you stick together, right?

Stu does love you too

He had no plans of going anywhere

Eric Draven

You almost begin to worry when you told Eric

He so desperately wanted to start a family with you

You knew this

But you also knew that he didn't want to do that until you were out of this dangerous city and in an area he was certain would be safe

So when you told him the news, you weren't sure what reaction you'd be met with

It was only when a large smile broke out across his face that you felt yourself relax

He lifts you off the ground and hugs you close to him, praising you and telling you just how happy he is

He truly can't believe that he's going to be raising his own child with the love of his life

He didn't even know this was a possibility for him anymore

He tries to lessen the amount of time he spends out at night

He hated leaving you home alone before, but now he has two lives counting on him to keep them safe

He isn't going to risk that

But on the nights that he does lose track of time, he always comes home with a takeout bag in hand, somehow knowing exactly what you want

He even makes a promise to get you both out of this city as soon as possible

He should have done it sooner, but now he has every single reason to do it

[green-eyedfirework]

When Dick wakes up, he feels warm and content.  The scents of his family surrounded him, safe and protective and home, and it’s the best feeling in the world.  Dick stretches luxuriously, feeling the lingering ache of heat exhaustion, and curls more firmly around his siblings.  Counting heads is an automatic habit, and it’s only when he goes hunting down the source of surprise when he sees three dark-haired heads does he realize where he is.

Bruce, he thinks, elation and dread mixed together, but then he sees the white strip of hair.  That’s not Bruce.  That’s—“Jason?” Dick asks, confused.

Green eyes flutter open, and Jason gives him a strained smile, “Hey, Dickiebird.  How was the beauty sleep?”

Dick shifts up—dislodging Damian from on top of him—and stares at his nest.  Jason is stretched out along his side, Damian is in his lap, Tim is on his other side, but curled away.  The room is empty of anyone else, any other scents than him and his family.

Something in his heart beats to a steady rhythm of wrong, wrong, wrong.

Dick can’t smell Slade.  He expected to spend the whole heat with his mate, hoped that it would be enough to placate him, but he doesn’t smell Slade at all, only his siblings.

“You came back home,” Dick says to Jason, to distract himself from the growing pit of dread in his stomach, but the way Jason’s eyes flash only make it worse.

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” Jason growls, tilting his head—there’s a bruise on his neck, green-purple, a claiming bite.  Dick goes cold.  “Looks like your mate wanted to collect all of us.”

The words are bitter, but underneath the venom is fear.  Dick knows that submission from claiming bites takes a couple days to fully shake off, so that new pack members don’t immediately challenge the alpha.  Jason makes no move to shift away from where he’s half-curled around Dick, even when Dick sits up fully.

Why—why would Slade do this?  Dick doesn’t understand—if Slade wants leverage, he already has Damian and Tim and Alfred, there’s no point in bringing in Jason, not when Jason is undoubtedly going to challenge Slade the moment the submission wears off.  Not when Dick is already giving him everything he wants.  “What happened?” Dick croaks out, because it feels like he has pieces of a puzzle that refuse to fit together.

“Ask the Replacement,” Jason says coldly, and Dick turns to Tim, heart clawing up into his throat.

Tim is not curled away from Dick because he’s asleep.  Tim is curled away from him because he’s crying, and Dick wipes the tears off his little brother’s cheeks with trembling fingers.  “Tim?” Dick asks softly.  What did you do?  “What happened?”

Tim ducks his head, refusing to meet Dick’s gaze.  “I—I thought he would be distracted with your heat,” Tim whispers, and Dick feels the crushing hollow of horror open in his chest.  “I—left.  I wanted to—to find Bruce, but he—he came after me.”  Tim shakes with a silent sob.  “He just—brought me back here.  He didn’t say a-anything about punishment.”

“And then he showed up and attacked me and dragged me back here too,” Jason adds.

Dick draws Tim into a hug and shoves all the furious words down.  How could he be so stupid—did he not even consider the risks—did he really think he’d be able to defy Deathstroke and get away with it—Slade was alarmingly patient over the past couple weeks, and now all of that is ruined—

“It’s okay,” Dick says with a calm he does not feel.  “Shh, baby bird, it’s okay.”

Jason’s level gaze shows that he knows it’s not.  Damian is watching him silently, and Dick knows that League training would’ve given him an idea of what angry alphas do to pack members who disobey them.

The fact that Slade didn’t punish him immediately, that he brought Jason here, that he waited for Dick’s heat to be over is not a good sign.

Slade is vicious enough when he’s running on blind rage.  When he’s calculating, planning and thinking things through?

Deathstroke could take out the entire Justice League, given sufficient time and materials.

“It’s okay,” Dick whispers, knowing in his heart that it’s not.

~#~

“Grounding,” Dick says numbly, “What do you mean by grounding?”

Slade just blinks at him.  “He’s not allowed to leave the house?  Restricted TV time?  No video games?”  Dick stares at him, and Slade huffs, “Kid, I’m not quite sure why you’re asking me.  Surely Pennyworth has better suggestions for you, he managed to raise the Bat.”

“Suggestions.  For me.”  It feels like his head’s been stuffed with cotton.  Dick can’t comprehend what he’s hearing.  “You—you’re not going to punish him?”

Slade quirks an eyebrow.  “He’s your brother,” he says in the same tone of voice of someone handing back a crying child to their parents.

“And—and Jason?” Dick forces himself to ask.  There has to be something he’s missing here.  He feels wrong-footed, like walking on flat ground after swinging on bridges and tightropes.  “Why did you claim him?”

“You were asking for him,” Slade says, and Dick can’t find a lie in his tone.  The statement is simple—like it’s obvious that Slade would do anything Dick asked him too.  Like if Dick was heat-drunk and calling out for his wayward brother, Slade would just...go and get him.

Dick feels abruptly lightheaded.

“Dick?” Slade says, alarmed, and strong hands close around his elbows and maneuver him until he’s sinking down on the couch.  “Are you okay?  Do you need some water?  Dick?”

Dick grabs the hem of Slade’s shirt before the alpha can leave, drawing him back onto the couch and fitting into his arms, curling up against him until Dick can feel Slade’s scent envelop him, protective and warm as the tears start falling.

“Dick?”

“Just need you,” Dick says softly, because—because he forgot.  Why he called Slade.  Why he asked Slade.  Why he trusted Slade, of all the alphas he knew in the world.

Slade’s arms wrap around him, gentle and strong.  “Okay, little bird,” he murmurs, and Dick allows himself to exist in his mate’s presence.

[sasheneskywalker]

dc/marvel crossover fic recs

Dark Matter by mysterycyclone The last thing Peter sees is Tony's horrified, heartbroken expression leaning over him. The guilt in his eyes is almost worse than the burning pain that's taking Peter apart piece by piece. The world starts to go dark.

There's a flash of gold and green. For one moment, he finds himself standing amongst the Guardians and others. And then darkness again. It feels like blinking; an extended period of nothingness that ends as abruptly as it begins. One moment there’s nothing, the next there’s light.

“Easy,” a woman says. Her words are gentle, and carry a slight accent that he can’t place. "I'm called Wonder Woman. What's your name?"

Not Rated | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Clark Kent & Peter Parker, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Peter Parker, Gotham City & Peter Parker, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Batman & Spiderman

Revenge is a Word I Haven't Yet Defined (I’m not sure I’m worthy of such theatrics) by OliOcelot After the Lazarus Pits and a year of training with the League, Talia sends Jason to Gotham for revenge. Except Jason isn’t as deep as she thinks. The thing is, he expected to see Bruce - Batman - and be livid. He let him die, replaced him. He should be mad.

He isn’t.

In the end, it’s hard to think of yourself as being replaced when you died. So yeah, he’s angry, but he’s not angry enough for revenge. Not like Talia wants him to be.

So he focuses on Red Hood and cleaning up Crime Alley, and scraps any ideas of revenge he had left. They’re unnecessary. Counterproductive, in fact, because now that he’s actually seen Bruce, all he really wants is to go home. Maybe have a conversation or two about how bad Bruce and Dick messed up, but at home.

Instead, he gets caught up in world altering magic from some criminal in over his head, and Jason finds himself tumbling through universes into a New York filled with heroes that he’s never even heard of and a lack of Gotham and Metropolis that can only mean one thing. This isn’t the world he knows.

All he wants is to get home, to make amends, to try again. Too bad none of them know he’s gone. Not that anyone would think to look for a dead boy.

T | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Batfamily Members & Jason Todd, Peter Parker & Jason Todd, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

To Dig a Grave in Winter by OliOcelot The Winter Soldier isn’t the only Asset that Hydra has. This will be their downfall.

Or, Jason Todd rose from his grave only to be taken by Hydra and turned into a living weapon, known as the Gravewalker. Meeting the Winter Soldier might just make it worth it.

T | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply | James Bucky Barnes (Marvel) & Jason Todd (DCU), James Bucky Barnes (Marvel)/Jason Todd (DCU)

in labyrinths of reflections by blackkat With the incursions imminent, Khonshu steals his avatar away to another dimension, where there's little risk of the universes colliding.

Marc is unprepared for Gotham, but it's probably safe to say that Gotham is equally unprepared for Marc.

M | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector, Marc Spector & Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Marc Spector & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne/Steven Grant

no map to my own treasure by blackkat “I think this is yours.”

Bruce doesn’t even have to look up. He already knows precisely what this is about. Containing a sigh, he rubs the bridge of his nose, and says, “If he bit you, I can pay for the emergency room visit—”

“I did not bite him,” Damian says, outraged.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Marc Spector/Bruce Wayne

Knaves All Three by Ginevra_Benci After Ultron, Avengers Tower hosts a good-will gala to fundraise for post-Incident NYC.

Local lawyers Nelson & Murdock, fresh from saving Hell's Kitchen from the ravages of Wilson Fisk, get an invite.

And.

Bruce Wayne’s in town.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tony Stark & Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Bruce Wayne, Steve Rogers/Bruce Wayne, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson

The Spider and the Samovar by Ginevra_Benci There's a new player in Eastern Europe: the Spider has been making a name for himself and has caught the attention of the Outlaws.

Jason Todd makes contact.

Well. He tries to.

G | No Archive Warnings Apply | Roy Harper & Koriand'r & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Natasha Romanoff

Bats Out of Hell by Jedi_Olympian Dick and Tim find themselves in a bit of trouble. Multiversal trouble. Needless to say, their boyfriends are not happy about it, and the universe they find themselves in is unlike any they've found themselves in before.

Or Dick and Tim get thrown into the MCU and meet the Avengers.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

If It's A Highway by there_must_be_a_lock Bucky’s been running for a week when the supposedly-untraceable burner phone he stole from a HYDRA warehouse starts ringing. He’s in a gas station bathroom off a remote highway close to the Croatian border, getting ready to bleach his hair; the ringtone bounces shrilly off the bare tiles and makes his jaw clench tight.

[Or: the one where Bucky is hired to train Jason, and he ends up learning a thing or two himself.]

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | James "Bucky" Barnes/Jason Todd

There but for Grace go I by AutumnHobbit Frank Castle comes to Gotham on the trail of some human traffickers who picked the wrong city. Imagine his surprise to find he isn’t the only one out for their blood. When things turn sour he decides to get involved, which leads to a lot of unexpected drama.

And he thought New York’s costumed paraders were bad.

Not Rated | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne & Frank Castle, Dick Grayson & Frank Castle, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Frank Castle

The Five Stages of Neighborly Affection by AlannaLioness, phonecallfromgod, youshallnotfinditso Between Matt being back from the dead, Nelson & Murdock 2.0 and a fancy Manhattan apartment from his (former) sharky boss, Foggy feels like he's doing pretty well keeping the vigilante nonsense in his life to a minimum.

Or he was until he moved next door to Tim Drake.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake (Minor), Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent (Minor), Minor or Background Relationship(s)

running in the shadows by dukeaubergine Jack Drake dies during one of Tony Stark's "taking responsibility" phases. The Bats aren't happy about this.

Tim is pushing to come home, and in the meantime be an NYC vigilante right under Stark's nose, when the Sokovia Accords knock over the whole board.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Batfamily Members & Tim Drake, Avengers Team & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Tony Stark, Tim Drake & Wanda Maximoff

Shake the Devil Out of Me by thepartyresponsible The first time Jason sees Phil Coulson, he sees him in the soft, flickering light of a warehouse fire. It’s romantic, he thinks, later. Like candlelight.

E | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Phil Coulson/Jason Todd

The Dawn Will Break Before You by thepartyresponsible “Okay, heartbreaker,” he says, “how much to put the tires back on the car?”

Jason rolls his eyes and gestures at him with the lug wrench. “Why don’t I just beat you up and steal your money? Is this the first time you’ve been to a bad part of town? Don’t show me your wallet, asshole. Come on.”

The man heaves a heavy, aggrieved sigh and starts pulling out bills. “Five hundred?” He tries. “Six? We can go to an ATM.”

“You are mugging yourself,” Jason says, oddly impressed. “Holy shit.”

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tony Stark/Jason Todd

Give Thanks to Broken Bones by thepartyresponsible The bodyguard is incredibly well-respected in the superhero single parent community. He is also, Tony’s realizing, something of an asshole.

M | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Tony Stark/Jason Todd

birds fly (why can't I?) by SafelyCapricious The apartment in Gotham that Natasha gets — all cash and no ID required — is a shithole.

But it’s her shithole.

Well, hers and the cockroaches’, she supposes, as she turns on the flickering light in the bathroom and at least a hundred of them scurry out of view.

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Jason Todd, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Jason Todd

Five Supersoldiers Walk Into a Bar by bittercape He spots him through the binoculars, far away and disappearing fast. Logan is, more than anything, a hunter. He knows how to watch, and he watches the sniper moving away, after a single well-placed shot. He moves just like Barnes did. Everyone has a particular way of moving, if you know how to watch. And Logan, as mentioned, knows how to watch.

Logan knows it cannot be him, knows he died, falling from a train. No normal human could survive that. And yet …

He drops down from the watchtower. He’ll catch hell for this, sure. But he has to know.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Logan (X-men) & James "Bucky" Barnes, Logan (X-Men) & Natasha Romanov, Logan (X-Men) & Slade Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Slade Wilson, Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Slade Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Slade Wilson

five, six, just for kicks by bittercape “Good evening,” Jason says, because he does have manners when he wants to use them. “Talia al Ghul sent me for training.”

“Right,” the man says. “You’re here for training with Deathstroke.”

“Yeees,” Jason says. This seems more than a little eccentric. “And you are Deathstroke?”

“Yes indeed!” the man says. “It is I, Deathstroke!”

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Jason Todd & Wade Wilson, Jason Todd & Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson

In The Oddest Places by withthekeyisking After pulling Steve Rogers out of the water, there's not a lot that the Soldier knows. But going to ground? Yeah, he can do that.

If only there wasn't another super soldier trying to get in his way.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | James "Bucky" Barnes & Slade Wilson

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Predator and Prey: Chapter One

Pairing: Tommy Cahill x Reader

Ongoing Series - Loosely based on ‘Sleeping With the Enemy’

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Minors do not interact, Slow Burn, War Inaccuracies, Mention of PTSD but barely, Stalking, Abuse, Sexual Themes, Alcohol, I think that’s it?

Summary: You move to a small town following a bad breakup around the time Tommy goes to Prison, 3 years later you meet and build a relationship, but will your jealous, angry ex ever really let you go?

Notes: Hiiii! This is my first fic since I was like, 13? So apologies if I’ve missed anything! I’m also UK based trying to write as an American so writing styles and words may differ, but I do try! I just feel like we need more Jake Gyllenhaal fics, and I love a slow burn and some thrills so enjoy! Reblogs and comments welcome :)

—————————————————

You groaned as your phones alarm clock chimed on your bedside table, the repetitive high pitched dings already putting you in a bad mood for the day.

You slammed your hand on your phone and blindly prodded the screen in the hopes of turning it off, eventually managing to hit the correct spot.

You lay in your dark room, preparing yourself to get up and out of bed for your day of work. It was only Tuesday but it had already been a long week.

After getting dressed, brushing your teeth and hair, and putting on a little bit of makeup, you set out the door. It was still dark out and the only light illuminating the street ahead was from the old street lights that lined the pavement.

The walk to work was only 10 minutes long, but that morning it felt a lot longer, as you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. You turned around to check if anyone was around several times, finding nothing but the odd cat or trash can lining the street.

You eventually made it to work and had enough time to make yourself a cup of coffee before flipping the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open’.

The day was slower than normal with very few customers walking into your little book store, which was something you could understand with the town being as small as it was, but you had a few regular book worms who would frequent your shop due to the lack of a library in the area. You bided your time by straightening the shelves and readjusting the pillows on the couches in each of the cosy corners by the windows, counting down the minutes and hours until you could close up and go home to your dog, just to do it all again the next day.

On Wednesday evenings your store played host to a soup kitchen due to the large prep area in the back, as your store was once a small Chinese Restaurant before you bought it. You’d agreed to it being used when your store was closed but soon found yourself volunteering to help chop up vegetables and serve, and you enjoyed it more than you thought you would, making it a recurring Wednesday tradition, so at least tomorrow you’d have something to keep yourself busy with.

It wasn’t all bad though, the time you had on your hands. Most afternoons once you had closed up shop, you’d take your dog, Jet, down to the local park to play fletch. Or you’d catch up on your own reading, or try a new recipe only for it to cost you more than takeout and taste nothing like what you’d hoped. It did get lonely though, with the only family you had living on opposite ends of the country, at times you’d considered moving closer to them, but you’d come to love the little town you’d stumbled across 3 years ago.

You’d only moved here from New York when your breakup with Jason had reached boiling point, with him knowing all of your friends, rumours about you soon spread and it became unbearable to stay. He had started stalking you and had your friends keep tabs on everywhere you went, eventually you even opted to forego all social interactions. You had welcomed the fresh start, and once you’d blocked Jason’s number you could finally begin to move on.

One time he had written you a letter after having found your new address on a piece of mail with your forwarding address attached, which somehow made its way to your old apartment instead. The letter was full of threats, demeaning words and also promises of a better life if you returned, but you dismissed these as empty threats, threw away the letter and got on with creating your new life.

You were just about to close up shop early, when the ding of the bell above the door sounded. You turned around to see a tall, dark haired man with a buzzcut, white t-shirt and a brown jacket walk in. You noticed a small tattoo on his neck.

“Hi, are you after anything specific?” You asked with a small smile, trying not to seem overbearing.

The man smiled politely, but didn’t maintain eye contact for long, and went back to scanning the low shelves near the front door.

“No I’m fine, thank you though.” He said. His voice was deep and gruff, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything.” You smiled back, and turned back to the counter where you were organising receipt rolls and pens. You hated it when you went into a store to browse and the staff lingered, so had never done this to your own customers, giving them space.

After a minute or two, the man cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Actually, sorry, yeah. I’m after a book on PTSD, like how to manage it and stuff, do you have anything like that?” He said, rubbing the back of his head as he looked up at you sheepishly.

Oh, perhaps he was one of those army guys, who had seen some horrible things in the war.

“Uhh, yeah we do actually. It’s just overrr…. Here!” You said walking over to a shelf on the left of the store, under the “self help” section.

“We only have the one though, I’m not sure if it will be much help?” You said handing him the book.

“Thanks.” He said, taking the book and scanning over the cover, “It’s not for me.” He added, looking awkward.

“Say no more.” You smiled and laughed a little to ease the tension he may have been feeling.

You walked back to the counter and waited for the man to follow. He took out a twenty dollar bill and waited for you to ring up how much the book would cost. You thought for a moment, and decided to do your one good thing that day.

“Uhh…. It looks like we don’t actually have the book in our system, and no price is showing up, I guess it’s free.” You lied, laughing lightly and pushing his twenty back to him.

The man thought for moment and looked you in the eye. “You really don’t need to do that, I promise the book’s not for me anyway. It’s for my brother.” He shrugged.

“Well then I guess your brother gets a free book.” You smiled, putting the book in a paper bag and handing it to the man.

He smiled, a genuine and slightly crooked smile, and thanked you. He took one last look at you and went to head out the door.

“Wait!” You called suddenly, your bravery getting the best of you. He turned around.

“I haven’t seen you around before, are you local?” You asked.

“Yeah… I’ve been away for a while. My names Tommy.” He smiled.

“Nice to meet you Tommy. I’m (Y/N), hope to see you around.” You smiled back, and turned to go back to your tidying.

Tommy left feeling happier than he had in a while. He hadn’t had a friendly encounter with the towns folk since coming out of prison, or with his family since Sam came back from Afghanistan and the news had come out that he and Grace had kissed.

Tommy didn’t have feelings for Grace, not real feelings anyway, and he realised this once Sam returned. Tommy chalked it up to the grief they both felt having thought he had died, as well as the happiness he felt when he was in a family environment. No, the only feelings Tommy had for Grace now were guilt, and he struggled to be around them.

He had decided to buy a book on how to manage PTSD so he knew how to handle Sam, who was due to come home from his stay at the psychiatric unit. Tommy felt sad that things had become so hard for Sam, and he was determined to not make things any worse.

Your act of kindness towards Tommy had turned a bad day around, and as he drove home that evening, he couldn’t help but think about the warm smile and beautiful eyes that he found at the little bookstore on the corner.

You had just closed up the shop, and began to walk home as the light dipped behind the horizon, casting the sky in a blue haze, the street lights had since flickered on and you watched your shadow grow large and then small as you passed under each one. Jet’s dog walker would have left around 3 hours ago and you bet he’d be itching for another walk, so hurried as fast as you could.

About a block from home you stopped suddenly as your breath caught in your throat and your heart sped up. You could hear footsteps close behind, and the they were closing the gap between you quickly. You spun around prepared to come face to face with an attacker or someone hoping to snatch your measly purse, but were met with an empty sidewalk dimly lit by street lamps and lined with trees.

You strained your eyes for any movement, but eventually convinced yourself you were being paranoid, and speed walked the rest of the way home, only letting your breath go once you were safely inside and you had locked your door.

———————

-Chapter Two Here-

[nothing-personal-posts]

"I'm The Crazy One?" (Batfam x Batsis) Final part

Summer: There is a saying. "Die a hero. Or live long enough to become the villain" You refuse to be both. No, you decided to be vengeance itself.

CW: Mental health issues, torture, stalking, violence, mentions of death, cursing, past trauma, mentions of self harm, underage drinking, bad ending

Tag list: @rosecentury @agent-nobody-knows

People call Superman, Batman and The Flash, hero's. While Joker, Luthor and Deathstroke are called, villains.

Rather simple to simple minded people.

But do you want to know the difference between these hero's and villains?

The Hero's have an unsaid code for no killing, a common moral honestly. Because thats not what heros do. Hero's protect, symbols for safety, peace and hope. So they take down the bad guys, and put them away.

While the Villains, they have no code, no morals. They simply want to control, spread chaos and dispare to whomever and whenever. They are killers. So when they are put away to prison or whatever, they brake out. And kill again, spread chaos and dispare to whomever and whenever, again.

And the hero's come to put them away. . . again.

It is a cycle, an unending loop that only stops for a second before starting up again.

But how do you end this cycle? This, usless and rather annoying cycle. Well, it's simple. Take down the Villains. Officially.

Now, some must be thinking. That the hero's can't do that, it was just mentioned that hero's don't kill!

Yes, the hero's can't kill. And simple minded people never really think of putting the Villain's to death due to the huge amount of reliance on the hero's.

So who has the guts to kill a villain, to willingly rid the world of a killer whilst becoming one themselves?

Luckly(and rather sadly), the answer to that question. Is Y/n.

A young girl who had suffered by Jokers schems. A young girl who prays for the night tarrors and panic attacks to stop.

A young girl who sees the man in her dreams, in the mirror, in the dark corner of her room at night. Hears the man's laugh when it gets far too quiet.

You wanted it to stop. To end it all. There were two options you had. End it yourself, or end it yourself.

You took the first option, which lead you to the top of a building. Half empty bottle of tequila you stole from the cellar and nearly dried blood staining your sleeves.

You stumble while aproching the edge. Humming and giggling at your scrambled thoughts.

Mumbling lyrics to a song you had forgotten the name of. None the matter, not like you needed the title of that name anytime soon.

You took one last gulp from the bottle in your hand, finally finishing it. You peeked over the edge.

"That. . . looks far." You hummed and dropped the empty bottle. Waiting till it crashed to the ground. Once you saw the bottle scatter into peices. You hummed and smiled drunkenly.

You stood on top of the edge. Spreading yoir arms open like a bird about to fly out of the nest. Before you even jumped.

You were tackled. Taken far away from the edge.

"Owwww! That hurt!" You pout and whined. You looked up to the person who had tackled you, and instantly smiled and started to giggle.

"Oh Du- ops. Bat signal! Hehe, you saved me~" You were about to say Duke's name. But reminded yourself that he was in his suit.

Duke took in your condition and frowns. He sighed and spoke "Batmans going to kill you." Duke can already hear Bruce's words of displeasure. God, Dick too.

You began to giggle "Silly~ Batman doesn't kill~" you started to giggle even more. Before slowly stopping ". . .batman doesn't kill. . . ."

"You know what I mean--" you blocked out Duke's words.

Because here, is where you relized that Batman- Bruce wouldn't kill Joker. Not for you. Not for anyone. Batman wouldn't permanently take down the one who had caused both you and Jason the worst event in your lives.

And it hurt you. Angered you. You weren't angry at Batman. Just angry that you relized no one could kill Joker. No one.

A few weeks of after that event. You were thinking. And thinking whilst in the condition you were in, wasn't really good.

You had decided to go for option two. End it yourself.

And to do that. You had to make sure that Bruce wouldn't be suspicious of you.

"I think. I need to go back to the mountins. . ." You gave Bruce a speach of how you know that you need help. Need to be alone with your thoughts and learn how to overcome them.

Bruce, of course agreed. He was proud that you made this decision yourself. And not having him painfully send you away unwillingly. You would of course had a tracker on you. Just in case.

You were saying your goodbyes. The last one being Damian. Whne you stopped at Damian. You couldn't help but to get emotional and hug him tight as you felt tears building up.

Damian was your little brother. Even with no blood relation, that is what you saw him as. You always wanted a younger sibling, the thought of spoiling them and protecting them was something you felt proud of.

And now, your leaving him. Knowing what your doing, you mostlikely will never see him after what you are going to do. Probably brake his small heart and trust after too.

But hey, this was for him. For all of them.

You got to the mountains. You took the tracking chip out of your arm and left it at the temple. Took out the tracking devices in your phone, cloths and other things you needed.

You were back in Gotham. And suprise suprise. The Joker was out of prison.

You sighed in disappointment. In your new suit, watching over the city. Knowing you cant act now. No, you had to wait. Watch, and gain the information you need.

So you watched.

Observed every criminal related to Joker. Every gang, every dirt cop every think that you could know about the Joker. You did this for half a month before finally taking action.

You were in the Joker's hideout. Hiding in the shadows. Eyes never wavering off from him. You wanted to do it now. Kill him. Make him suffer. But you couldn't do that. Not yet.

Just a few more hours. A few more hours till he leaves and is unguarded.

Once the Joker was away from anuone else, out of his safe zone. You striked.

You landed on the ground near him. The Joker turned to see someone who was in a suit and mask. He couldn't identify the age nor gender of the person.

The Joker laughed at you. Started up witty comments about how you must be someone who admires the Batman.

You walked closer, fully engulfed by the dark of the night and the shade of another building that blocked the street lamp.

The eyes of your masked glowed a neon purple. You tilt your head, a clicking sound coming from your ask.

Without warning, you grabbed the green haired man by his face and smashed his head against the brick wall.

You assalted the man for a good minute before dragging him by the hair to a dark corner.

The last thing the Joker remembers before knocking out, is your glowing eyes and that clicking sound.

Phase one was to observe and gain info. Check.

Now, phase two. Stalk the Joker and his every move and attack him when he's alone and defenseless. Continue to do this till he doesn't feel safe in places he's supposed to be, with people who he trust.

Unknown to you, phase two was working after showing up to Joker three other times, he's been seeing those glowing eyes in the shadows when you weren't even there.

And when it got too quite. He would hear that clicking sound. It was driving him more crazy then he usually was.

You had fun. Your not ashamed to say it, that you enjoyed watching him show sighns of suffering from afar. Hurting him in unexpected ways that made you smile.

There were times when you would unexpectedly run into your family. Batman tried to take you in, but you escaped. Giving him no words but a head tilt and the clicking sound you make.

It wasn't long till the media took wind of you. Your actions and swiftness reminded others of an owl. So they so cleverly called you "The Owl"

You decided, that youve had your fun. And it was time to end the loop.

So, for your last visit to dear old Joker, you attacked him in his hideout. No one was there. Just him.

So you tied him up, dressed him in his most classic clown clothes. Added a little flower in his chest pocket for decoration.

You circle around him, making those same clicking noises. Watched him replace his fear with weak chuckles and empty threats that turned to bribes them back to threats again.

He was a mess.

He watched as your suite suddenly popped out claws. You hummed and got closer to the man. The look he had on his face made you chuckle. And for the first time, he heard your voice.

"Why so serious?"

You laughed after saying those words. Because, it was something the Joker himself used to say.

You got closer to his face, lifting your claws to the each end of his lips.

"Come on now. Give me a big smile~" Your claws dig deep into his pale skin, slowly tracing the red paint that formed a smile and forcing his lips to go upward as well.

"Ah! Look at that. Such a dazzaling smile. . . now, let's keep that smile there."

You pulled out a big needle and thread thick enough to go through skin.

You took your time sewing up the smile so it could stay still. You hummed to a melody that just stayed in your head. Happyily sewing like you were patching up a doll, blood trickling sowing the man's face, mising with his sweat and tears

You leaned away and smiled under your mask.

"All done!" You made your hands clap rabidly in an excited and hyped gester.

Something wasn't right. The air in Gotham has been stilled. Like the big crimes and crimanals hace been put on a pause.

And Bruce noticed this quickly. And it has something to do with this: Owl, person.

They showed up out of nowhere. Beating some of the criminals half to death, and drag said crimanals so they could, 'play' with them. The only reason Bruce got this information was because of Selena.

She watched one of Owl's attacls go down. And it was brutal.

Even Damian, at school. All the kids talked about was 'the Owl' and how cool they were. Besides from that, Damian found out a few rumors.

How the Owl might be female. And how the Owl might be conected to the Joker going missing.

Yes, missing. The Joker hasn't been active ever since you came into his life. But the public doesn't really know your the reaon why Joker has been inactive. So the assumed he had gone missing.

But, most of the big bad guys in Gotham know. . .they know why. They had many reasons not to interfere.

And now, they will never even think of it.

It was all over the news.

Joker found dead on the outskirts of Gotham

The details, were probably too much for a lot to take in on the condition of Jokers body. Or what was left.

It wasn't long till Bruce and the others found out it was the Owl who had done it. And saddly for them, took less time to find the now poorly hidden identity of the Owl, for the Owl had finished their main goal. And no longer cared.

You were on a balcony in the Wayne manor. Thw last place the others would think to find you. But Bruce did. It seemed like he always knew.

Dick and Jason were right behin Bruce as the three watched you stare up into the sky.

"Y/n." Bruce spoke. Your lips curled into a smile.

"Batman. . ."

Bruce frowns in your response. "Did you do it." His voice firm. You frown. Was that seriously the first thing dear old pops say to you?

You began to chuckle out of frustration.

"Do what?" You turned around and gave them an innocent look.

"Kill Joker!" Jason shouted. Dick was there to hold Jason back just in case. You leaned on the railing and crossed your arms.

". . . You mad Jay? Don't worry. Made him suffer before killing him." Yeah, like that would make the man any happy.

You began to chuckle to yourself. "You guys wanna know something funny" yoir chuckling slowly ecalated to loud laughing.

"He called me-- he called me Crazy!"

The three watched your laughong combined with small sobbing. It was sad, and deeply discerning.

"I'm the crazy one? After all the shit IM CRAZY!?"

It seemed like everything was hitting you all at once. Falling to your knees. Your laughter being overtaken by crying.

Bruce sighed and went over to embrace you in a hug.

This had them thinking. Maybe they were too late. Maybe they never truly saved you that day. The you that they knew, had already died without them knowing.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Jason Todd/Frank Castle ship manifesto and rec list!

For @dc-marvel-crossovers Pool Noodle Party.

These two are both scary motherfuckers when they want to be. Between the guns and the vengeance — yeah, the surface-level similarities are clear. But they’re also people whose core motivations are a) loss and b) a sense of justice. They lost faith in the ability of others to protect the people they love, and so they decided to do it themselves. They get a lot of shit from the other vigilantes in their respective circles for their methods of doing so; I think the lack of judgment coming from the other person would absolutely draw them together.

And at first glance, I think they can both easily be written off as angry characters, but both of them have a massive soft, caring streak under all that Kevlar and grumbling. It comes out mostly in the way they look out for (and fight on behalf of) the innocent — women, children, dogs… they’re both natural caretakers, but they’re rarely allowed to express it, and I think that caretaking is a huge part of what I love about the idea of their dynamic. They only allow themselves to be soft and to be taken care of because they’re with someone who also respects their strength.

Fic recs! Most of this tag belongs to the amazing @mightymightygnomepriest and @bittercape! Please go check out their work if you want more of this pairing — every one of their fics is great, not just the ones I’m quoting here.

forever trusting who we are by @bittercape - like I said, it’s the caretaking for me! This is peak softness, and I love the lived-in feel of the unspoken communication that comes from a long term relationship.

The rhythm of checking and mending gear is a familiar one, and Jason is comforted by the hiss of the whetstone against an already-sharp blade, as familiar as breathing.

Slightly less familiar is the way Frank leans against him when he comes back from packing up their gear. His weight is heavy against Jason’s back, seeking contact like a big cat.

can’t start a fire without a spark by @mightymightygnomepriest - Frank is literally in the rain trying to rescue a puppy in this. It’s so ridiculously endearing. There’s also caretaking (of course) and some sexy sexy sex.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason catches sight of a calendar. He wonders if he’s been a good enough boy this year that Santa’s delivered him a dilf.

Probably not.

Even if We’re Just Dancing in the Dark by @daddyswickedqueen - a remix of the previous fic on the list, but god damn I love Sagacity’s take on this premise. The inner voices of both characters are so well done.

There’s a low laugh that could, in other meteorological conditions, make Jason shiver. Right now it’s too fucking cold and wet to tell.

Jason stays right where he is. This goddamn puppy is going to be warm and dry tonight or he’s going to commit war crimes. Again.

Parting is all we know of Heaven, (—and all we need of Hell.) by llamallamaduck - Witcher fusion! I know very little about the Witcher fandom but was able to follow without problems, and the glimpse at the world was more than enough to have me wanting more. Great characterizations.

“I’ve been around for a while, kid,” says the Witcher, shifting. Automatically, Jason’s eyes snap to track the movement. You can’t not pay attention to that shit. He’s not even making any threatening gestures; he’s rubbing his temples with one hand and is propped up by the other. Nevertheless, Jason wants to curl his shoulders, bare his teeth and show he’s not easy prey.

Make This Easy by @thepartyresponsible - it has once again been 0 days since somebody in the crossover server recced a TPR fic, and for good reason. Significantly darker than the others on this list; this is not a happy story. But it involves one of my favorite descriptions of Jason of all time:

There’s some kind of predator under his skin, the same way there’s one under Frank’s. Maybe this kid’s teeth run a little closer to the surface, but Frank still recognizes his own. It’s just weird as hell to find someone like him caged up in a body like that. He wonders if that’s what he looked like in his early twenties, some unholy mashup of empty eyes and soft edges, baby fat barely lingering on a body already smelted into a weapon.

He was never that pretty, but Russo used to be. Maybe that burning match energy is something boys like them learn early. Self-immolation as a form of self-protection. Nobody’s going to get their hands on them if they’re already on fire.

[thirstnotes]

| Rivals To Lovers - Clark Kent - Part Twelve - Clark Kent, Superman|

Pairings: Clark Kent x AFABBlackCurvyReader

Warnings: abduction, Red Hood, mild confusion, language, minors DNI, violence, Dark Clark, Murderous Clark, manipulation, Jason being angsty

I'm so sorry this took so long, ya'll. Life is happening and I was at a loss for what to write at the same time. Very sorry for ya'll that are in love with this. I haven't forgot about you, I promise! Thanks for all the likes and love and reposts!

If you don't like it, don't read it.

No one could've predicted that Clark would actually have gone through with it. Not even he himself. But there he was, standing in a room full of men he never even bothered to even speak to, blood splattered across his chest from their attempt to destroy him.

The Gatling gun was a solid touch too.

Arguably this could've been spun as a case of self defense by any of Bruce's army of lawyers. They'd defended way worse. But really, there was really no reason to involve them, seeing how no one was left alive and no one was going to report lack of harassment from the local assholes. So it was win/win.

Bruce's dirty work was done. By someone willing to kill.

More specifically willing to kill for you, but semantics.

He picked up what Bruce asked for, looked at his phone and started typing.

Done.

It wasn't long before he got a response.

That was quick.

They weren't too bright.

They never are. Anyway, assuming you're headed to her apartment, I think it's wise to let you know that Y/N isn't there at the moment.

Clark stopped mid-flight.

Bruce's phone began ringing. Bruce exhaled.

"Where is she, Bruce?"

"She's at a high-rise on my side of town. A colleague of mine is entertaining her."

He neglected to tell him that Jason had her with him. Given Jason's record, Clark was likely to panic even more. Granted, telling him it was a colleague of his probably didn't ease his thoughts. It was quiet for a moment on his end before the phone hung up.

Shit.

He was angry. Angry and homicidal. He had to get to Jason first.

Which was going to be a challenge since Clark was now heading in that direction.

Broken shards of his phone rained into the river he flew over as he sped towards Gotham. He had no idea what Bruce had planned, but he was furious. Why did he feel the need to have you taken from your apartment when he'd already decided to do what Bruce had asked? He was doing far too much.

Had he not have crushed his phone he could've asked about why you were taken

Maybe Bruce didn't know about it

Then again, Bruce usually knew about everything.

So he didn't want to hear it.

He'd had enough of Bruce's bullshit.

As had you.

You eyed the masked man sitting across from you. He seemed very amused by your anger towards him. At that point, you hadn't said anything more to each other after his talk with Bruce, but he seemed pretty content about it. He was pretty well armored, so hitting him with anything in the room was probably useless. That and his reflexes were probably on point if he worked with Batman, so you knew it was useless to try.

In the first place, if he worked with Batman, he must have been a "good guy", so it was strange that he had decided to kidnap you. But you didn't know the motivations or morals of superheroes. In the back of your mind, you reminded yourself about Clark and his intent to "steal" Lois from what'shisface.

Y'all know his name

Anyway, it reminded you that Clark was just as human-like as the rest of you, despite his alien origins. He often hinted that Bruce was dangerous, but maybe your bae was dangerous too.

No, he was definitely dangerous

The thought of it excited you more than you wanted to admit. A powerful, deity-like being choosing you to be his everything didn't sound like a bad deal, but you had never really considered the baggage that came with it. It was also terrifying.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he interrupted in a tone that suggested he was definitely smirking. Your eyes rolled to him, but rolled back to the window that you half expected Clark to crash through any moment.

"Just thinking. What are you getting out of all this? Why abduct me for Bruce when you know 'Golden Boy' is probably gonna kill you for it?"

"So you acknowledge you're important to him. Interesting," he said in the same tone which made you want to smack him.

"You wouldn't have taken me if you knew I wasn't, so cut the shit. What's this whole thing about?" you demanded in a less edgy tone, as you did when you conducted your interviews.

"If I haven't made it abundantly clear, it's about you and Bruce. Like I said, you've been driving him to distraction. So much that his focus has been on Metropolis lately. Which isn't a problem, unless you're Gotham's protector. Whether you know it or not, you're a liability for us unless..."

"I'm here," you said, completing his thought. You couldn't believe this stupid ass plan. Was he seriously planning to make you choose between Clark and Bruce? The whole thing felt incredibly pre-school and immature, but this dude seemed as impulsive as they came. Especially since he was risking life and limb to convince you to choose his favorite.

He seemed content to your understanding of his goal in this, but you were still unsettled as to why he was so calm about a potentially murderous Superman heading there to destroy him and probably everything he loved. Something didn't sit right.

You continued to mull over the thought until your eyes caught a familiar form in the distant sky. Clark. He hadn't seen you yet, but you guessed that all you had to do was say anything aloud and he'd hear you.

"You have something up your sleeve."

It was mostly to catch Clark's attention but it was a genuine theory that you were curious about. He didn't respond, instead looking at his phone. Clark hadn't budged either, but from the looks of things, he hadn't heard you.

"So now you don't have a smartass retort?" you provoked a bit louder, trying to catch his attention. You had no idea the range Clark could hear at, but apparently it wasn't as far as you thought.

"I mean, I could mention how your ploy to catch his attention isn't working, but I think you might be figuring that part out already," he said, still looking at his phone.

You're eyes flickered between him and the window. True enough, Clark hadn't budged, but you were realizing it wasn't because you were out of range.

"I'm broadcasting a high pitched frequency from several places that only he can hear. It doesn't do much, but it makes it a bitch to try and find you by listening for your voice. But seeing how he does that whole x-ray bullshit, I'd say we have a few minutes longer to hang out."

Your eyes floated to the phone in his hand, which was in a heavy, most likely shatterproof, case. He put it back into his arm plate, which closed it off from your access, so there was no point in trying for that either. Your blood boiled.

No. There was no use in losing your temper.

That'd only give him more of the upper hand. He expected that of you

You damn sure weren't in the habit of giving assholes what they wanted

You took a deep breath, straightening the skirt of your dress as you sat back in your seat. "Say I do choose Bruce. What's to say I don't change my mind?"

He was hesitant at your sudden cooperative shift. "Not my business. I'm only here to set the stage for you to choose. Bruce is a big boy. If you say enough, he'll back off."

You raised a brow. "If he's such a 'big boy', why'd you do all this instead of letting him approach me instead?"

Sensing you were levelling with him, he plopped down across from you again. "Bruce drags his ass. Especially when it comes to women. Sometimes drastic measures have to be taken to force his hand. To be honest, Bruce is the only choice here. Either you choose him, or I put an end to all this right now."

You didn't like the sound of "put an end to all this"

Not because of the grammatical phrasing either

His tone implied he had plans to keep you from "distracting" Bruce ever again

Was it really that deep???

Your eyes rolled to the side. "With friends like you-"

"Shit gets done," he finished, subtle laugh slipping from behind his mask.

As if on cue, the wall behind him violently seemed to be blown to pieces. The pictures and lamps fell with a helpless crash while you ducked as best you could on the sofa, covering your head for added protection. You were vaguely aware of your captor hovering a bit closer, shielding your unarmored body from any debris--not something a person bent on unaliving you might be concerned with--but your eyes were mostly focused on the figure walking through the hole in the penthouse.

"Clark," you breathed, a relieved feeling rushing over you. However, the Clark you knew wasn't there. This was Superman. A very pissed off Superman. His cold gaze swept over the armored man in front of you.

"Get away from her," he demanded, his tone sharper and colder than you'd ever heard from him. You've heard him be sarcastic, even a little cold and vindictive. But this. This was deadly.

"Easy, Flyboy. I haven't laid a single finger on her," Jason smirked.

He didn't respond. Instead, using his lightning speed, his powerful grip was around the man's throat, lifting him from the floor. You watched, polarized by the sight, unsure if he was bluffing or really about to snap his neck.

Sure, he'd abducted you and put you there and part of you was thinking he got what he deserved

But you didn't really want to see him die for it

Though, something wasn't right. Clark stumbled and his grip weakened around his throat until he'd dropped him altogether.

"Clark?!" you gasped, rushing to his side as the Red Hood corrected himself and caught his breath.

"See now that....That's why I prepared this little contingency," he said, one of the compartments in his wrist gauntlet overturned and revealing a glowing green stone in it. Kryptonite.

You'd heard and written about it's effects before, but it was the first time you'd seen it first hand. It looked radioactive almost. It was a sickening green, but you weren't the one feeling its effects. It was Clark.

His breathing was steady, but he looked drained, his forearms shaking from exposure to even that small bit. The chamber rotated shut again and Clark looked to breathe normally.

"You okay?"

He flashed you a soft, but brief smirk. "Are you okay?"

"A little rattled, but nothing I can't handle," you joked smoothly, not wanting the masked asshole to think he'd gotten the best of you.

Jason straightened himself and plopped on the sofa across from the both of you again.

"Now. Since I have your attention-"

"Jason," Bruce's voice called from across the room with every authority of a father. Jason didn't seem deterred a bit. In fact, he relaxed further into his chair.

"Bout time you got here."

"What you're doing isn't necessary," Bruce said evenly. Not unlike someone talking someone from a ledge.

You got the sense that you were a subject that was talked about before, though you didn't really know the context.

This time, he took his mask off, his eyes fiercely aimed at Bruce. He tossed a bitter chuckle at him.

"It's not necessary? Funny, for a while there, I thought this little tryst was all you seemed to fuckin' care about. You couldn't even come to see her when she called you."

You looked between them. Was he referring to Selena Kyle? Whoever that was.

Bruce exhaled. "I was busy-"

"Right. We're all supposed to understand how you piss off to play playboy while she's fighting for her life right now-"

You jumped when he screeched suddenly, his body stiffening as a jolt of electricity hit him. As he collapsed, a smaller, curvier form stood just behind him, taser in hand. Catwoman.

"Tantrum's over, Junior," she said, stepping over his body and meeting Bruce across the room.

"I might've known you'd keep your eye on him," Bruce said, eyeing her with an eerily similar look he was giving you in the park.

Your reporter senses were tingling, sensing the obvious history the two of them had.

The soap opera had taken a sudden left turn

At this point you didn't care anymore

You had a headache

(was Jason okay, or...?)

(he's breathing. it's fine.)

"So I take it the dress-" Bruce said, his eyes flickering over to you. You suddenly felt self conscious and exposed being brought back into the conversation.

"His idea, my execution. I mean. I couldn't very well let him undress an unconscious woman like a creep," she said.

You found yourself liking Catwoman quite a bit

Of course, you wondered why she'd help him if she knew what he was doing was wrong in the first place

But, truly like a cat, she had her own logic and reasons

Still, you were relieved that Jason hadn't seen all your business while you were out cold

"After I heard he was speeding off towards Metropolis, I couldn't bring myself to let him make a dumbass of himself. Call it a favor for my favorite Bat," she winked, though he looked less than amused to be owing her anything. She tapped the tip of his nose before exiting through the generous hole in the room made by Clark.

Then it was quiet. You helped Clark to his feet, though he seemed to be regaining his strength fairly quickly after the stone was securely back inside Jason's armor.

"You must think the worst of me," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair.

"I never really though much of you to begin with, but I'm sure you have an explanation," Clark said, still sounding thoroughly pissed.

Though not homicidal, so that was something

Bruce seemed to be wrestling with idea of telling you everything, but given the situation, it couldn't be helped. Jason had forced his hand.

"Strange's goons poisoned Barbara with a synthetic drug."

"I'm guessing that's why you needed this," Clark said, handing Bruce a vial.

Bruce took it, immediately scanning it with his watch. "The compounds in the poison is the only way to create an antidote. She left a tracker with one of them as they fled the scene and it pinpointed them being in the outskirts of Metropolis. Going in alone might've meant suicide, or worse, them smashing the vial. I needed to send someone they weren't expecting."

Your eyes drifted to Clark, who looked to have simmered down considerably. He was definitely not someone you'd expect. Your eyes swept down his solid form in his blood-stained spandex- Wait...

Did he kill for that vial?

When you'd imagined Superman, you always pictured a dude that always knocked out bad guys and sent them to jail, not to the cemetery

"What did you do?" you asked quietly, turning towards him. He didn't look at you immediately, instead taking a deep breath.

“When I saw you two on the street, I knew it was the perfect way to get him to do what I needed,” Bruce spoke up, sounding oddly like he was trying to defend him.

Clark’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Bruce didn’t say anything more, surrendering the situation to him.

Clark turned to you, his eyes softening considerably.

You knew what he wanted to say. What he was ashamed to admit. But you were done.

“Take me home," you said before he could even find the words to offer.

He quietly lifted you in his arms and effortlessly sailed from the window, leaving Bruce and Jason behind.

(Part 11)

[umhwarmglitterstory]

The spaces in the knot

Jason Todd x reader

Mature

•••

Into problems there you go

Little dove, little dove

Of your mother, buried corpse

And the blood and then the smoke

Red Hood may have done something horrible to you, in the meantime, while you search for truth and revenge, you end up staying at the Wayne manor?? Richard is nice at least.

_

Graphic depictions of violence, death, gun violence.

_

Chapter 1

Things were going to get messy, one way or another. Literally, a lot of blood splattered on the bare bricks of the walls or puddles on the ground, to dry and fade along the many others on the cement. The new man had punched you on the cheek, with enough force -and disdain- to know this was in no way a negotiable situation, followed by another hit to your stomach, leaving you crouched on the floor gasping. The other guy, your guy, Harry just watched, interested maybe as much as a sort-of-thug's bodyguard should, no trace of the cocky, almost goofy prick he had been any other day, like he was actually smart now and not half a blowjob from gifting his brand watch.

You shook your head, leaning heavy against the wall.

"What happened now, huh? You are always- always such a chatter" You asked, looking at Harry dramatically frowning, annoyed and condescending, hoping to stir something.

It worked; the nameless man turned his head, clenched his jaw as he gave Harry an angry stare. Not surprised or even disappointed, Harry was indeed a blabber, a known one apparently. That short distraction was enough for you to reach for your wrist while they exchanged a look, with a shaky hand you unclasped the metal bangle

"Every time" The man muttered, still staring at his coworker but reaching behind his jacket. That was the last push you needed, ‘you or them’ . He looked back at you as he raised his gun, supposed to be aiming at your head.

Not quite, his frown barely had changed at your now coiled position, when you had already sprinted, under the gun and towards his neck. You heard the slick swirl from the silencer by your ear as you buried the sharp metal on the side of his throat, without much care for technique or consequences, just push and draw your hand with your whole body behind it. You didn't know what to do, you didn't know what you were doing, what you had been doing the last weeks to get here, but the sight of the gun put you in automatic, making you claw at the man way harder than you'd liked, than you had ever before even in your mental preparations.

The man stumbled back, another quiet shot -aimless now- and both his hands, one still holding the gun, flew to his throat, a heavy gush of blood seeping between his fingers, rapidly covering his chest, his arms, then his stomach. Thick and heavy, so fast.

You turned to run towards the blue hue of the club, but Harry had already pushed himself off the wall, wide eyes looking between you and his ‘friend’ . Before you could even think of dodging it, he grabbed you by both your cardigan and shirt and threw you across the place, landing just past the other man.

"You Bitch! What did you do?!" Harry crouched beside his friend unsure of what to do, his hands hovering over the wound at the same time as the other man stopped trying to hold his throat, dropping them by his sides.

"Boss? Oh man- Diego, come on" Harry stopped himself, clearly Diego was dead, no need to smudge his hands with the blood, unlike you. He turned around furious, if not shocked, unhinged expression and breathing fast. You recoiled, shook yourself out of your trance watching the blood, the life, draining out of the man, like nothing, because it was nothing.

What you had done.

You tried to crawl away from the man and from your crime, pushing yourself to run as Harry stumbled to his feet.

You ran as fast as you could to the dark end of the alley now, towards a street you hoped, and for a second you did it. But then Harry yanked you violently by the hair dragging you down to the ground, stealing your breath again, and hitting the back of your head.

Dizzy, you hardened your hold on your bloody bangle, momentarily looking at the sky, dull, starless and with a dirty orangish hue.They weren't good people, Diego definitely wasn't with that ease to shoot you, being a feared superior to Harry who you'd seen breaking people's bones for fun basically. Then again no one was ever good in this city, not them, not the police, not your friends, not your parents, definitely not you. Harry was close to be considered almost a friend.

You tried to sit, but the man kneeled by your side, then caged you with one leg, smart enough to pin down your arm holding your weapon, with his hand on your forearm, the other clamping around your neck, cutting your scream.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?! Eh?!" He yelled, starting to squeeze your throat, your free arm close to useless against him, trying to reach for his face, his eyes.

"Stupid- you stupid! This- this was going to be quick, you know? you... bitch!" Harry said through clenched teeth, spitting saliva, squishing harder and harder your throat, still careful- or unsure, maybe, hopefully- to keep you conscious, to make it slow. It burned, your throat and your neck, your lungs and your chest, a painful pressure building in your head, around your temples and behind your eyes, the electric rush of blood starting to deafen you to your own gasps, to everything.

"Fuck, Fuck! I could-"

A heavy, rumbling thud interrupted him, coming from the darkest end of the alley. Then heavy footsteps. You felt the shift of Harry's hold on you, his fear. You smiled amidst your grunting and glassy eyes, not like the man was paying you attention anymore, he couldn't. You would've worried yourself too; you did fear jail, as much as the next guy. But, given the circumstances, what would be The Batman but a blessing. Is this what average people felt at the vigilante’s arrival?

You continued to struggle, still desperate for air, even though all was left to do was see what would happen, hopefully Harry resisting and getting beaten. You, of course, would stick to the damsel in distress. Had to. Whatever came, be it go to prison, you'd solve it later.

Harry made a show of holding you harsher, shaking you a little.

"Move and I'll kill her!" He yelled, desperate already. How stupid, you would have laughed had you not been suffocating, had there not come the other amused huff first.

What?

Harry was startled as well. Batman didn't laugh in any way, and sounded older, voice more serious and deeper, as the news and the internet showed, bordering on being ridiculously low.

Harry's eyes widened in a full panic, maybe you should too. You tried to move your head, see what was happening, who was it lurking in the dark, but Harry loosened his hold on your neck, and as fast as he possibly could -as you started an inevitable coughing fit- he went for his gun under his jacket.

"Wrong -" the voice said coldly, as Harry was almost done aiming at its owner, his finger already on the trigger.

"- move." a deafening shot, louder and ‘sharper’ than a regular gun. You closed your eyes, warm droplets on your face, and when you opened them again there was no Harry, just the last remnants of a mist, followed by an intense smell of salt and metal, blood and meat. A body dropped besides your feet, the gunshot powerful enough to push Harry's body back.

Fuck. Fuck! You were dead too, then. Weren't you bad enough? Criminal enough? Could you lie, would he even give you time to lie? Your coughing was turning into gasps, you tried to roll over, mostly just your upper half, planting your palms on the ground. Your opened, bloody bangle under one of them. Please, please.

More footsteps, stopping right in front of you. You really didn't want to look up to find, once again, a gun aimed to your head, but you had to. Slowly, resignated maybe.

A blur of black and leather, then the red, faceless metallic mask so many saw right before their demise. As cold and apathetic as you would expect, just two bright slates for eyes, with as much mercy as the rest of the hard helmet.

"You okay ma'am?" He asked, the weird sight of his open, empty hand was in front of you. Along your bewildered stare came a wave of nausea at the smell of gunpowder and smoke, twisting your gut in an almost unprecedented way. Almost. You hadn't even registered the two previous shots from the first guy who tried to murder you today, not really. But now you recoiled, the smell, the nausea; the old feeling like panic, like grief. The Red Hood tilted his head.

"You look rather uncomfortable down there" Oh. Oh right!

At least you didn't have to pretend a tremble, you reached out your shaking hand, trying to ignore and hide your crafted dagger in the other. Maybe- maybe he wouldn't even notice it.

You couldn't even register the contact, just the sudden pull, lifted to your feet. He was tall, big, and smelled so much like it -the gunpowder- or it was just his gun, still hot and smoking in his other hand. You got sicker, back to the creaking wood, decaying sashes.

He nodded towards where you knew was your kill.

"Care to tell me what happened here?" Came out the helmet, authoritative and modulated, just a pinch below robotic.

"I- I had to do it, I was protecting myself" And that was very true.

"Did they hurt you?" He asked again after a moment, softer. Well, you probably were already swelling and bruising in several places, and your voice was obviously too raspy. Did he mean something more, like assault? Would he take you to a hospital then? Did vigilantes do that? Did they care? Would that side make you less likely to get killed, or arrested, or beaten?

Wouldn't you deserve it, though

"Uh, no- not much I mean" You broke into another coughing fit, overdoing it just a little. Your throat and chest still burned. Harry only got you for a few seconds, but Red Hood didn't know that, right? The safest thing to do was remain the legitimate victim, and most importantly, as small as the scenery allowed it.

You were thankful for the darkness, for the imposing presence, making the bodies on the floor almost easy to overlook. You zeroed on Henry's hand, as harmless as it could be, empty, almost relaxed. You really could have died to that.

You glanced at the other corpse while stroking your neck, again, conscious. The guy you killed was a higher up, more important than Harry, and maybe because of that more willing to kill. If... if only now Red Hood just left, you could go and register under the expensive jacket, a phone, a wallet, anything. You had to, right? After all this- but didn't want to risk anything with this man. No, no, you couldn't, just, just-

Gunshots echoed in the distance, not too far.

"You should go home"

"...Yeah"

You turned around, opting to remain silent. You walked away, a last glance at the bodies as you did. Maybe you could come back later, before the cops and any other lowlife, if you were lucky enough you'd be in time to retrieve something, anything. This couldn't be for nothing, you couldn't just go back to zero again, not after all your struggle and their deaths, that was proof, right? That you were recollecting something, a truth. But it was a sign, too, that you were going to get killed, for nothing but suspicions. What did it matter now anyway! You wanted to cry, thinking of everything, your mom, the cruel unfairness, the nausea coming back. Back there at your old apartment.

The earthy, acrid smell of the wood, old wood that made the frames of the windows. It was never dry or sunny in the city for the fir to dry; always wet and dark and decaying.

Another heavy thud interrupted, far more restrained and smooth this time, paired with a sharp swirl of fabric. A dramatic sight, with the newcomer raising to his full size and blocking the sight of the unreachable club lights, the alley closer to black. Batman, at last. He looked down at you for a second, you thought, but then as if he had heard something you couldn't, his head snapped towards his… peer? He walked past you, with a lumbering pace, deafening silence.

"You killed these men'' He stated, his voice in person as much of a dark omen as you had been told. Red hood crossed his arms, moving in an over-smugly way, flaunting gun- guns? One in each hand.

"Quite the keen detective" He responded, and despite the mock, you could hear it through his modulator, see it in his stance and the tilt of his head, he was so pissed.

Your fear resurged. And still amidst your turmoil of emotions, thinking unclearly, tired, exhausted, you just wanted to get home, bathe and sleep, forget, maybe? And yet.

Batman has his back turned on you, his figure big enough to hide you from Red Hood, they seemed distracted enough with each other.

You tripped in your wobbly legs trying to scurry away, saw the man you killed there, across you. You went for it.

"What are you doing? You think you are acting like a hero?"

You refastened your cuff as you crouched by its (his?) side, feeling over his jean pockets, where you found several trinkets that in your hidden hurry didn't care to take, you just clutched little more than keys, a small squarish thing, coins, and a phone. Then to his jacket, you gulped when you felt the dampness. So grateful for the darkness

"Ah! Right, right. See, in case you haven't fucking noticed, I think your kind is the fucking problem"

Loose bills, a lot actually, you fisted them. You felt a blocky shape, it had to be a wallet, and pulled extra hard with the jerk that came when gunshots blew, the sound of metal clanking and wires. Clutching everything to your chest you finally, finally, scampered out of the alley.

[waspsarebetterthanbeesanyways]

Only the Dead 9

part 1

previous

next

Jason looks at the bloodstains by the computer, and Barbara’s wrapped corpse. “And who is that?” he asks warily.

Cass looks away. Damian buries his face in his hands and wonders how the hell he’s supposed to explain any of this. His heart hurts; he doesn’t want to acknowledge Barbara’s death, doesn’t want to have to put it into words.

Jason watches them quietly, soberly. His expression pinches when he looks back at the body, coming to his own conclusions.

Of course, that grim scene is the one Phantom emerges into. He comes flying through the wall at a breakneck speed, only to stop on a dime. He’s covered in several sluggishly bleeding wounds, and he’s panting, each breath fogging up in the air. His scans the room rapidly, and visibly relaxes when he sees all three of them. “There you are,” he says. “Come on, we have to go, now.”

Damian snarls, hand automatically going to the hilt of his sword. “Phantom. How did you find us?”

“I can explain later, but we’ve got a bunch of angry ghosts on our asses and we need to go right now!”

Damian draws his blade. “I don’t think we should go anywhere with you, Ghost Prince.”

Phantom rakes both hands through his hair, eyes wide open and wild. “Are we really doing this right now?!”

Damian grinds his teeth. He feels so hot, he feels like he’s burning, and rage erupts in him. “All of this is happening because of you,” he hisses. “All of this death, and for all I know you’re the one leading this invasion. I will not let you creatures win!”

Phantom’s next breath doesn’t fog, and his eyes widen. “Get down!” he shouts, lunging towards Damian. Damian slashes at him with his sword, but it harmlessly passes through Phantom, and he successfully knocks Damian to the floor. Barely a moment later, claws sweep through the air where Damian’s head had been.

Damian turns his head to look at his new assailant, and all at once, his rage drains away. Vertigo rushes through him. Even despite her orange eyes and bright green skin, he recognizes this ghost.

“Al Ghul spawn,” she says. “I’ve finally found you. Do you remember me?”

“Aadya Majumdar,” slips out of his lips without his conscious permission. All at once, he’s a child again, on one of his first solo missions with the League of Assassins. He’d been meant to kill her in her sleep, but despite his training, despite his already growing kill count, he’d hesitated. She’d woken up and fought back, screaming and scratching at him with her nails. In his mind, he’s staring down at her, covered in blood, watching the light drain from her eyes.

“And if it isn’t our dearest Prince Phantom,” she says, staring at Phantom with dark eyes. “Are you intending to get in the way of my rightful vengeance?”

Phantom floats upright, flipping midair to face her. “I’m against the murder of humans, no matter the circumstances.”

“Murder? He murdered me!” she shouts. Her voice crackles like electricity, and all of the lightbulbs in the room shatter, leaving only the dim light from the computer screen. “But then, you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Phantom crosses his arms and stares at her with icy blue eyes. “If I were you, I’d spend less time thinking about my death and more time wondering what the hell you did to get killed by a child.”

With a screech, Aadya launches herself at Phantom, claws extended. Phantom gracefully whirls into a roundhouse kick strong enough to send her careening through the wall, and then he swiftly dives after her.

“What in the everloving fuck was that?!” Jason asks.