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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years ago

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scoops ahoy!

summary: a commercial is being shot for the new starcourt mall and scoops ahoy is involved.

WC: 2K

warnings: nothing!

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

im a little annoyed that the specific gif im looking for is gone!!!!

series masterlist

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April 17, 1985

“Okay, so (Y/n), you’ll stand behind the register and say ‘Ahoy!’ Then Robin will walk in with an ice cream cone, hold it out, and also say ‘Ahoy!’ Got it?”

You vaguely nodded at the director after she gave the instructions.

She walked away to stand behind the camera and watch everything through a monitor. There were about ten people scattered in the small ice cream shop, with someone holding a boom mic standing close enough so he could pick up your voices.

You glanced over to Robin, her strawberry ice cream cone with sprinkles and a cherry was held with a napkin in her hands. You both exchanged nervous smiles, not excited to be in front of a camera, especially if it was an ad for Starcourt. It means everyone is gonna know that both of you work at the sailor-themed shop, along with the mandatory uniforms.

You tried to get Eddie a job, but the second you mentioned the outfits he automatically declined and when he actually saw you in yours, he fell to his knees and laughed for three minutes straight.

You and Robin were desperate for money and it helped when you had work experience in food service, you helped Robin out and lied saying she also worked at the pizza place with you, Eddie your ‘manager’ was put down if they wanted to call.

The both of you got the job at the same time in March, so after about a month of work, you were feeling pretty confident in your ice cream skills. That is until your manager, Jason, some twenty-something-year-old guy, told you and Robin a day beforehand that they were filming a commercial and that he signed the both of you up for Scoops.

You talked about it over the phone with Steve when you got home from work after dropping Robin off at her house. Uniform still on, back against the wall, wire twisted in your grasp with the phone held to your ear.

“Baby, I can stop by during your shift. Would that cheer you up?”

A pout formed on your lips, “a little.”

Now as you stand behind the counter waiting for the director to call action, you hope Steve arrives when the crew leaves the store.

“Okay, everyone!” The director shouted, “places!” and when her crew moved and settled, you tried to will your heart to slow down, but it wasn’t working.

“Action!”

A fake smile was pointed into the lens of the camera, fists braced at your hips, not knowing what else to do with them. You waited for a signal to speak and when a finger was pointed towards you, you looked directly down the barrel with dead eyes and fake enthusiasm, “Ahoy!”

Robin came in a second later with the ice cream lightly melting under the bright lights, she thrusted it out, and with her jittery self, “Ahoy!” She got out without a single voice crack.

No one called cut or stop so the both of you just kept up the fake smiles until they hurt your cheeks. And what felt like an hour was probably only a minute before the director called cut. Both of you drop the happy face to resting poses, and one would say you have a resting bitch face.

“Okay, that was great girls! We’re just gonna do a few more takes so we have enough versions.” And they set everything up for a second take.

“Can I eat the ice cream?” Robin asked, a drop of strawberry making its way down the cone.

The director stared for a moment, chin resting in her hands, “sure, actually for this take, (Y/n) will come in with the ice cream. Both of you switch places.”

So the second take was with Robin at the counter and you were walking in with a cone, a different flavor, and toppings. Variety as the director said.

“Cut! Okay, let’s take a break and be back in thirty. One more shot and that’s it for the day.”

The shop was closed during the filming so you and Robin just flipped into an empty booth, her leaning her head on the top of the cushions as you just ate your cone. You wanted the day to be over already.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me pick a flavor?” A deep voice spoke, one your zoned-out brain didn’t catch.

“We’re closed at the moment.” Not even looking at the person.

“Oh, well I was told my girlfriend wanted me here. To cheer her up.”

Wild eyes and ice cream smeared over your lips and chin, you jerked your head to look at Steve, pretty Steve, your pretty Steve.

“Oh, god, if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you heard Robin mumble. You knew she was just playing.

You saw the roll of Steve’s eyes before he entered your side of the booth, arms immediately looping around your waist. He peered at you like you were his life source, the sunlight to his growing flower, the oxygen flowing through his veins. He was the sun to your moon.

“Hi pretty girl, how’s work been,” he questioned as he wiped his fingers over the ice cream stains, fingers popping in his mouth to clean them off.

A bite to your bottom kept the cheeky smile from appearing, knowing Robin would whine if she heard even a hint of flirting.

“Eh, but better know that you’re here.” You leaned closer to him.

He grinned at the statement, always happy to hear he makes your day better. You wanted to pounce on him right there but stopped yourself, for Robin’s sanity. So you settled on a simple peck to his lips, then one on his cheek, two over his freckles then a final one to his nose.

“What time you get off?” Steve chased you for a second kiss.

You granted his wish, “Uh-” you grabbed Steve’s wrist and turned his watch your way, “should be another half-hour. Think they want one more take before we’re done with filming. Then the store reopens, sadly.”

“And sticky little children are gonna come storming in, their piercing screams making me want to stab my ears.” Robin’s raspy voice piped up beside you, your giggles showing your agreement.

The three of you got sucked into your conversations, you and Robin gossiping about something that happened in your English class earlier that day, Steve chiming in every now and then wanting to be nosey as well. Your ice cream was being shared between you both, Robin groaning and gagging at the display.

Before you know it, the film crew came back from their break. They were setting everything right for the final shot, hopefully, the final image. You and Robin slid out of the vinyl booth, throwing those annoying sailor hats back atop your crowns. Steve stood behind you, arm thrown over your shoulder, and watched as the different men and women moved around the cramped space. The director came over, presumably to give you and Robin your new directions, but she stopped short.

“Uh, who’s this?” She pointed a rolled paper towards Steve.

You pointed a thumb at him, “he’s- he’s my boyfriend, Steve,” your head turned to smile at him.

“Would you like to be in the commercial?” She blurted out.

“Uh- well…” he turned his head at you, wanting some type of confirmation from you, all you did was shrug your shoulders and throw a smile, “uh, sure. Yeah, that’s cool.”

She walked away with a smile and wandered towards your manager. They both headed to the breakroom for a few minutes then reentered the front of the store, a scoops uniform in hand.

“Oh, Stevie,” you were trying to hold the laugh in your throat.

“What- Oh god, no.”

“Oh, oh this might be the best birthday gift ever!” Robin chuckled beside Steve, a look of horror painted on his face.

“Robin, your birthday was last month.”

She just scuffed, “So what? It was a bad birthday, anyway.”

“I took you bowling and we went out for dinner! I even bought you a new tape!” You reminded her.

The two of you bickered back and forth for a few, too distracted to notice that Steve was pulled away. And when you finally picked up on his absence the director told you he was in the bathroom getting changed into the uniform. So you hurried behind the ice cream bar and pushed the swinging back doors open, heading to stand behind the closed door.

“Steve…” your knuckles rap against the navy blue door, “Stevie, everything okay?”

There was only silence on his end and it was worrying you a bit, “Steve, can you at least unlock the door? I’m- I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it.”

Once again silence, then the click of the lock turning. The door was free and with a quick turn of the knob, you slowly opened the door and peeked your head inside. It was a small bathroom so you didn’t have to search for Steve, he was standing right in your eyesight, staring himself down in the gross mirror.

The navy blue uniform seemed to fit Steve, apparently, your manager had different uniforms on hand. His outfit was a bit different from yours and Robin’s, the shorts being the same with the two white stripes lining the bottoms of the shorts' legs. But the top was different, whereas yours is a navy blue and white striped shirt accompanied by a white collar and red ascot topped with the navy vest with an ice cream cone on your right side and your name tag on the left, Steve’s was just navy blue. Okay, well they still held similar designs, he had the two white stripes on the shirt cuffs along with the cone ironed to his right bicep. There looked to be a red and white striped area to cover the rest of his chest, which you were thankful for since you didn’t want any girls peering at his chest hair. And the only other difference was the white apron around his waist.

He held the horrid sailor hat in a tight grip, probably wishing to burn it to ashes. “Steve, you look so-”

“Stupid,” he cut you off not allowing for your sentence to finish before he harshly judged himself.

You scoffed at the mean comment, “no, I was gonna say you look handsome.” Standing beside him as you wrapped your arms tight along his bicep, head resting below his shoulder.

He looked away from the mirror and cocked his head at you, “handsome?”

You turned your head up, chin digging into the muscle, “Charming? Pretty?”

“I know you’re my girlfriend-” “I’ll never get used to that sentence…but continue, sorry.”

That prompted a smile from him, causing one from you out of reflex, his free hand sliding to the side of your face, thumb resting into your plush cheek, “I know you’re my girlfriend, but you gotta be honest with me here. This outfit depleted all my Harrington charm.”

“Okay, well a few things there are wrong. One, you don’t even work at scoops so this is only for a thirty-second shot, two I didn’t know you were planning on picking up girls in this get-up,” Steve rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, “(Y/n), you know that’s not what I mean.”

“Okay, then let me finish,” you tapped his nose, “three, I think it’s actually helping you.”

He stared at you like you were crazy, “did you hit your head?” The hand resting on your cheek moved to the back of your head to find any bumps.

You moved your hands to rest against his waist, which, “I think you actually look pretty hot, also this shirt is short enough that your stomach flashes when you raise your arms too high. So, yeah, this ridiculous sailor outfit adds even more of your Harrington charm.”

“Have I told you how lucky I am?” “A few times, but a few more wouldn't hurt.”

Your smiling faces leaned into each other, Steve’s tilting down and you pushing on your toes to reach him halfway. And you get a simple press of your lips, nothing going too far because you’re in your gross work bathroom, and also, “Hey lovebirds! We’re ready!”

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taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessxoxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn / @ameliabs-world / @mayonesavegana / @gracella0709 / @gengen64 / @alecmores / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx / @redheadedfangirl / @agustdeeyaa / @yappydoo / @liberhoe / @hehehehannahthings / @ladybug0095 / @sweeter-innocence-fics / @j-6o / @voteforevilthoughts / @harrysflowercrownrry / @ilovereadingfanfics / @sorrow-has-a-place-here / @80strashbag / @ririvilliams / @sweet1peach / @cierrajhill / @we-out-here-simping /

*strike through means tumblr can’t find your account. sorry*

#The Byers Harrington Story #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x byers!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things series #stranger things self insert #stranger things season three #scoops ahoy!

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elvesandlanterns · 2 years ago

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Reacting to the DC- Verse

DC-Verse Theater

A Theater appeared in front of more than a dozen heroes. They were seemingly teleported in the middle of the day, none of their phones worked past the camera and the bats were slowly starting to tear the building apart. All of the doors were locked and none of them could open them, even with kryptonian strength.

The most concerning part was that they were all dressed as civilians.

Everyone in the room; Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, GL Hal, Green Arrow, Flash Barry, Aquaman, Dick, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Cassandra, Damian, Duke, Barbra, Wally, Roy, Jon, Konner and Bart.

“Well we might as well raid the concession stand,” Wally could hear the other heroes eyes roll and can’t find it in him to care. Impulse beats him to the popcorn maker and screams as he opens the cabinet.

“Bart!” There on the floor hair tangled on the edge of door of the cabinet splayed out was a girl. She wasn’t breathing. “What the fuck what the absolute fuck.” Wally had seen plenty of horrible things in his job both of them but this entire situation unsettled him completely. “Barry I think you need to see this.”

The heroes knew better to crowed a body and allowed Barry and Batman to pass freely… they still stared tho. She looked short, half of her body still stuffed into the drawer making it hard to tell. Barry reached out and flipped her over. He need to check if maybe just maybe she was breathing. Flash stopped at his colleges intake of breath. Face up everyone could see a stained patch of her black hair was white.

Jason cussed up a storm.

Before Barry could begin touch her, the body arched up and gasped loudly.

“Holy shit back up man.”

Oh she was a live. That some how left the group with more questions.

She contorted, pulling her body out of the space. She looked …normal. Short, black hair, black eyes, tawny skin scarred. She stood up and stretched.

Clark blanched, “She’s breathing.” They got a few looks, “She definitely wasn’t breathing before.”

Jason couldn’t take it, “What are you?”

She stopped mid stretch, and shrugged, “I’m a chimera.” Her grin was all teeth.

“Well then let’s get this over with.”

“Get what over with, do you perhaps know why we are here miss -?” Journalist powers go!

“Well to watch the multiverse of course! Or at least that what I assume my boss wants me to do, can’t really think of another reason you lot would be here.”

“The multiverse? What’s that…” Clark asked.

The girl stopped and stared at him, “Tugh, you can all drop the act. I know who all of you are.”

“I don’t know-“

She pointed them out, “Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, yadda yadda yadda. Come on the faster we do this the faster you get sent home.”

The heroes started spewing outrage.

Diana spoke directly to her first tho, “Who are you? What is your bosses plan?”

The raven haired girl walked up to a seat and sat down, “Like I said I’m Chimera, and my boss probably wants me to show you guys the multiverse so you guys can I dunno learn a lesson or become stronger or some bull crap like that.”

Diana nodded, “And you have that ability? The ability to just see these things?”

“ I’d be a pretty bad Watcher if I didn’t!”

“Watcher?”

“Yup it’s like my title and rank, the infinite cosmos to watch and no one to share it with. “

Diana was growing concerned sure the girl knew things she shouldn’t but-

“So no worries about me spilling any secret identities, I’m entirely constrained to this dimension.” Her voice got softer annoyed, “Trust me I’ve tried.”

Diana really didn’t like the way that sounded.

“Oh and don’t worry about your world catching on fire without you it’s on pause till you get back.” The girl said flipping the screen on her phone, that presumably worked.

The heroes all looked around at each other, were they really doing this?

Roy was done, “As intriguing as this all is what if I don’t want to? Time being paused or not I have a baby at home to feed.”

She kept on scrolling, “Funny you say that as if we have a choice.”

“We?” Diana shared a look with Clark, she really wasn’t liking how this all sounded. Did they need to save this girl?

“Yup,” she made a popping sound on the ‘p’, “We, what part of this being my job do you not understand ?”

Diana didn’t have a response ready for that.

Jon floated over to the girl and sat down in the seat next to her, ignoring his dads whispers (and Damian’s yells) not to approach.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at our options.”

Note: Feel free to send me anything you’d like them to react to!!!

#batman #justice league #batfam #dc x dp #dc multiverse #DC-Verse Theater

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citrinesparkles · 3 years ago

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you had me worried

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 906 words. notes: hi please don't call people if you're trying to keep one or both parties anonymous <3 but for the sake of this little story, please disregard that. just insert bat-tech for anonymity <3 also, this was requested by @definitelydivergent as part of my blogiversary celebration! thank you so much, honey- hope you enjoy :) warnings: anxiety, canon-typical terrorism and violence

"hey, perfect timing. i was just thinking about y-"

jason's agitated voice, distorted slightly by the phone, cut you off. "baby, baby- shh, stop talking. where are you? home?"

his words were surrounded by heavy breathing, crashes, and shouting, a cacophony unsettling enough to distract you from how rude 'stop talking' was. "yeah?"

"thank god," he muttered, before grunting in effort and raising his voice over a clattering noise in the background. "i need you to stay there, okay?"

"is everything okay?"

"no, everything's shit- robin! your six!- and i need you to stay put." he paused for a moment, and you could hear a slam in the background. "please."

"okay," you mumbled, trying to swallow your rising nerves. "are you..."

"i'll play it smart," he answered the unspoken question. another crash. "i'll be careful."

"you'd better."

"i've got to go."

"be safe," you added, worry fully audible.

"see you soon."

and the call ended.

the night passed slowly. slower than usual.

you did you best to keep occupied, answering emails and scrubbing dishes and watching videos of a lady playing the spoons, but your mind kept revisiting the short conversation with jason.

the sour feeling in your stomach never faded, replaying the genuine concern in his voice. he wasn't easily rattled- you hadn't heard that tone in a very long time. it was hard to imagine what could have caused it, much less drove him to call you and ask you not to go out. once you had run out of chores and musical entertainment, you begrudgingly gave in, flopped into bed, and turned on the news.

"-left the scene, taking the now-infamous harvey dent into custody once again."

you swore quietly, watching as the camera zoomed in on a trampled black-and-white cookie directly behind the reporter.

"witnesses state that several vigilantes were involved in his re-capture, including batman, robin, and batgirl. as per usual, they have taken off into the night before they could be questioned on the situation."

"thanks, maria. the chilling events of this evening seem to be resolved, thanks to speedy response time by-"

you muted the tv and dropped the remote onto the bed beside you, staring disinterestedly at the man speaking. text scrolled across the bottom of the screen, blandly describing a forked approach to crime- two face had, appropriately, split his attention two ways. one half of his attack had been a bomb threat surrounding a political rally downtown; the other half had been his goons randomly selecting hostages from the streets.

highlighting corruption and random luck simultaneously. it was impressively planned, you could admit that much.

but now, knowing now what had happened, you wondered where jason was.

the red hood's involvement in the festivities going unmentioned wasn't surprising- it was a good sign, really, meaning he was well enough to avoid onlookers and nosy cameras.

but you wondered.

you didn't wonder long, soon hearing the window slide open and shut again.

"honey?"

"here!" you hopped out of bed, following his voice to meet him in the hall.

he had already shed his helmet, concern and exhaustion visible on his handsome face as he breathed your name. "you okay?"

"yeah, i'm okay. i stayed put."

"thank you," he mumbled, letting the tension melt from his shoulders. he pulled you in, holding you to his chest with an one arm around your waist and the other over your shoulders. "thank you."

returning the hug was the easiest thing you'd done all day, melting into his hold and rubbing your hands over his back. "thank you for coming back in one piece. are you okay?"

"i'm fine. i just needed to know you were safe." his thumb traveled across the back of your neck, the seam of his glove catching on the collar of your shirt.

"you were the one out there, jason. you had me worried."

he let out a carefully neutral hum- jason for 'i know' and 'i'm sorry'. "we're okay," he said quietly, kissing your head. "we're okay."

you nodded, pulling back to meet his weary eyes. "we're okay," you confirmed, watching some of the tension leave his brow.

to say you had a lot of questions was an understatement. the news had shown you an incomplete picture of what had happened, and the fact that he was so clearly shaken up told you that there was a very big picture to see.

'you had me worried' barely scratched the surface.

but he was home.

everything else could wait for the morning, so instead of asking 'how bad was it' or 'are you okay' or 'why did you seem surprised to see me home, right where i promised i would be', you brought your hands up to cup his face. he immediately nuzzled into your hold, bringing a small smile to your lips. "c'mon, handsome. let's get you out of that suit, okay?"

you slid back, ready to turn and head back into the bedroom and set out clean pajamas, but you were stopped in your tracks by him grabbing at your waist. "wait- wait. can we just..." his fingers bunched in your shirt, gently pulling you back to him before finishing his sentence in a whisper. "be here for a minute?"

your questions came back with a vengeance, but he looked shaken enough already, so you just slipped back into your place against his chest and held close.

it could wait for the morning.

#citrine writes #c's blogiversary #definitelydivergent #today's the actual blogiversary and i posted with #checks watch #5 minutes to spare #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc #imagines #gn reader #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc comics #anxiety cw

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rjalker · 2 years ago

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[ID: The "you can always pirate Nintendo" meme, now edited to say, "You can always copy and paste the image descriptions people make for your art into the original post / it's always the most accessible option. 99% of people who make image descriptions will thank you endlessly if you do this. Just don't put it under a read-more or in tiny, italicized, or colored text. If you have trouble telling where it begins and ends, you can indent it. Thank you". With a smile face emoji at the end. End ID.]

Most basic guidelines for creating image descritions: Begin with "image description" or its acronym, "ID" or "Begin ID" and end with "end image description" or "end ID" ect.

Don't use caps lock in an image description, even if the original image of text has caps lock. Simply say, "in all caps, the text reads" or "[insert text here]" in all caps.

Use punctuation as you normally would, and break the ID into smaller paragraphs if necessary.

Don't use image descriptions as memes or jokes.

If, for example, it's a video of a gecko or something crawling on a pane of glass, do not describe it as "a cutesy aworable lizard goes splat splat splat across some glass like a pog champ" or other meme/baby talk like that. Nor is this the time to say "An absolute demon straight from hell excuse for a collage student stares directly into your soul". Like. Come on. This is an accessability tool, not a joke. Say what is actually happening: a gecko is walking across a pane of glass. Someone is holding their phone camera up to their face at an angle, with their eyes open as wide as possible.

Do not use image descriptions to lie to people. No, not even if you think it's funny, no, not even if you think it's technically not a lie. If there is a picture of your dog sleeping on a couch, do not say "a photo of Castiel from Supernatural sleeping curled up on the couch".

No, not even if you literally named your dog "Castiel from Supernatural".

If theoretical dog's nametag were both visible and legible, and thus relevant to the description, you could say, "A dog whose nametag reads, 'Castiel from Supernatural' is sleeping curled up on a couch." or "A dog lies curled up on a couch, sleeping. Its collar and nametag are visible, and the nametag reads, 'Castiel from Supernatura'.".

If you use image descriptions to lie to people, even if you think it's funny, you are being ableist and there is no excuse or justification for your actions. Don't do it. No, not even if you think you can defend your lie by saying it's technically true. Do not use image descriptions to deceive people.

If you don't know the gender or race of the person you are describing, don't say anything. Just say "a person" and describe their clothes or hairstyles as necessary. There's a notorious example of someone describing Manny Jacinto, who plays Jason Mendoza in The Good Place, as "a white man".

Do not use the terms "female presenting" or "male presenting" to describe someone unless you know for certain that those are terms the person you are describing self-identifies with. female/male presenting is just a progressive-sounding way of misgendering people. Here's a post I made about it that explains it a little more.

Image descriptions are used by people who can see enough to read, as well as those who rely 100% on screen readers, which is why you should not put them in italicized, tiny, or colored font.

They should not be put under a read-more for three reasons:

1: Forcing people to navigate away from their dashboard just to figure out what an image is is the opposite of accessible.

2: Depending on your blog theme, your blog might be completely inaccessible even after they've click the read-more. Blogs with flashing headers, autoplay, a cursor that trails glitter, font and backgrounds in neon and clashing colors, all serve to make your blog not only just impossible to read, but probably dangerous. Bright and flashing lights or neon font against neon backgrounds can cause not only headaches and migraines, but seizures and other serious issues as well.

3: If you ever change your username or delete the blog you used to create the image description, the link for the read-more breaks, but the read-more itself remains. So if you say "image description below the cut" and delete your blog or change your URL, and no one reblogging your post bothers to check the image description for themselves, then that means there's an undescribed image going around that everyone's assuming is already described.

If you have ADHD or any other thing that makes it difficult for you to tell where an image description is within a post and thus feel the need to put it in italics or colored text so that you can differentiate between it and the rest of the post, you should instead utilize the indent feature that tumblr offers like this:

This text has been indented, so that it will appear further in on the post, with a grey line separating it. This gives the text a visual distinction between it and the rest of the post, without causing other problems. On mobile for Android phones, click the fancy cursive letters when you're on a paragraph until they become indented. On desktop as of July 4th, 2022, highlight all or part of the paragraph you want to indent, and then select "indented" from the offered dropdown menu.

and that's about it I can think of for now.

If anyone has any other tips/guidelines to add on, please do so.

If you're afraid to start making image descriptions because you think you'll mess up, it's okay. It's not the end of the world if you make an honest mistake or add too few details or not enough. You'll learn as you make more, and other people will correct you if you do something wrong.

The best time to start making image descriptions is today, even if you're nervous. An imperfect but genuinely created image description is still better than no image description at all.

July is disability month, so if you were looking for a sign to start creating image descriptions of your own, take this as that sign. I believe in you.

Edit 4/27/23:

Hello everyone. Please do not comment “Better yet, add ALT text!” not everyone who needs an image description has a screen reader, and Tumblr’s ALT text is extremely glitchy and inaccessible. It is not better. It’s actually worse in the majority of cases for people who need image descriptions.

#accessibility #image description tips #image descriptions #Disability month #long post #described images

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years ago

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Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting Part 2

Hoodie

The area where you lived had a ton of back alleyways that acted as shortcuts in a pinch. They were generally safe but you often got an uncomfortable feeling when using them so you preferred to take the busier roads if you could.

Unfortunately, when you had gone to leave work that day, you had spotted the customer who had been harassing you the entire day. It wasn’t anything creepy but it was over-the-top persistent and you weren’t in the mood to deal with it. You slipped out the backdoor as a result. At least you’d get home sooner.

For the most part, you didn’t encounter anything too suspicious and the light from the streets illuminated where you were going.

The large bins outside the grocer’s home indicated that you were getting close. You sped up and rubbed your eyes blearily.

Ahead of you, a dog was barking from inside one of the buildings. It was a pretty noisy animal and you began peering around to see what the source of its agitation was. Ironically, you ended up bumping directly into him.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, rubbing your shoulder.

The guy was tall, wearing dark clothing and standing right in the shadows. You could have probably noticed him if you were a little more awake.

He turned and your breath caught.

His face was obscured by a dark mask with red features stitched onto it. His hoodie which originally seemed dark was now illuminated into a soft yellow or orange, stained with a dark substance.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice crackled out, clearly coming through a voice changer of some kind.

“I – I was just taking a shortcut home. I live near here so I thought… I really didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m super tired.”

“Tired or not, you shouldn’t have seen me,” the guy said. “Do you have a phone or a camera?”

Slowly, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. “I don’t have any cash in my wallet –“

“I don’t want your money!” he snapped. “I’m not some petty thief, believe me, I have better things to do with me time. Unlock this.”

You did so and he went through it with a gloved hand. He didn’t have a weapon but something in your gut warned you to just go along with it. Nobody covered up everything, including their voice, when they were up to something good. This guy may not be a thief… but the alternative didn’t feel too much better.

He shoved your phone back at you. “Get out of here and don’t breathe a word of this to anybody. Consider yourself lucky that I’m in a good mood today.”

You swallowed nervously. “Thank you?”

“I’m serious,” he warned. “I can let you go just because you seem pathetic enough to not take this to the police but unless you want to catch a bullet in your back, you’ll keep quiet. My boss doesn’t like people getting involved with this nonsense.”

“A bullet?”

He didn’t answer and your heart thundered in your chest. Part of you wondered if he was going to kill you while you ran away but his attention seemed to have moved away from you. You hurried away, holding your breath the entire time. Every time you glanced over your shoulder, the guy remained unmoving.

When you reached your home, you locked the door tightly and slumped against it in exhaustion.

Homicidal Liu

The sunset was beautiful over the graveyard – the only beauty to an otherwise morbid place.

You stared at the purples and oranges dancing across the sky. The wreath pricked at your hands after a while and you stared down at it. Why did you still bother with bringing flowers? Hadn’t it been long enough? Still, you made your way down to the grave and placed them there, not even bothering to read the name on there.

Lately, your graveyard visits had becoming fewer and fewer. Time hadn’t been on your side recently and thus, your precious solitude had to suffer. You relished in the way that nobody really bothered you here.

An orange glow warned you when the streetlights came on. Perhaps you had been there for longer than you thought but this was to be your last visit.

Better to make it count.

Something caught in the wind made you raise your head. A piece of fabric was stuck in the nearby fence, identifiable as a scarf when you ventured closer.

You took it from the fence and looked around for its owner. Nobody was in view… maybe it had been blown off one of the graves? It did seem homemade.

Guessing, you began to place it on a grave when a voice startled you.

“I’m sorry to bother but I think you have my scarf?”

The man was standing far too close for you to have not seen him when you were glancing around but you blamed that on your night vision. He wore dark clothing and seemed awkward just to be speaking to you.

“Thank goodness,” you said. “I was just going to leave it on one of the graves because I didn’t know who it belonged to.”

He thanked you for it, wrapping it around the lower half of his face almost immediately. “That would be a waste,” he said. “Especially to leave it on this one. Thank you for grabbing it.”

A harsh wind blew through the graveyard, carrying with it the smell of an incoming storm. He grabbed his scarf just in time to prevent it from going flying away again.

“Seems like the weather is determined to steal it from you.”

“Far more powerful things have tried.”

You buried yourself further into your jacket and smiled. “I haven’t seen you around before, are you new in town or just coming to visit a new grave?”

“I’m not visiting a grave,” he admitted. “I just thought that this would be the way back to my house… I grew up in this town but only recently moved back and I’m already lost. It’s a little embarrassing if I’m honest.”

“Well, I like to know everybody,” you said. “What’s your name?”

“Su – I mean, Liu,” he said. “Liu. Sorry, I nearly gave you my surname.”

You laughed. “Oh that’s no problem. It’s nice to meet you but I really like your name. Is it Chinese?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He looked around and began walking away. “I really have to go. Thank you for getting my scarf and all that.”

“I’ll see you around,” you said with a wave.

It was only later when you realised how suspicious that entire interaction was. You had never seen Liu before in your life and he was just hanging around in the graveyard? He hadn’t seemed too creepy at least. Maybe you would see more of him in the coming days.

Jane the Killer

It wasn’t that you were unobservant or inattentive toward girls but nobody had really caught your eye until Jane.

She was stunning in a way that few people could ever match with dark hair that tumbled past her hips and soulful eyes. Her walk was always confident, her smile always perfect, and her attention always desirable. Your main regret about life was that you didn’t speak to her sooner – especially when you thought back on what happened not too long after your first meeting.

You organised with your friends to somehow bump into her but instead, you wound up getting treated for a pretty painful bruised hip. Your second plan didn’t work out either and your third never even left the drawing board.

“Just go up to her and say hi. Tell her that she’s beautiful,” your friend encouraged. “She’ll say thanks and then you’ll be able to talk to her.”

“That’s so boring though,” you said. “It’s not like something out of a romance novel.”

Your friend groaned and stood up. “Well, I’m going home. We have like three months left of high school and I’m not going to spend that time obsessing over how to speak to a girl. She’s literally a regular person.”

They were right and you knew that. No matter how you tried to set up a sweeping romance, it probably wouldn’t work out.

So you tried.

And you tried.

Two weeks later, you were about to give up on mimicking a romance novel and it appeared that your friend was thinking the same thing. She grabbed your arm and began to drag you somewhere, muttering about changing the topic. You had a vague idea of where you were going but you didn’t fight too much.

“What if she’s still dating that Woods boy?” you asked. “The older one.”

“They broke up after literally a month of dating. I don’t blame her – those Woods boys are pretty enough but the older one has something seriously wrong with him. And the younger one is always talking to himself…”

“I really don’t care about the Woods’,” you commented.

“No, you care about Jane who is honestly quite weird as well,” they said. “But that is going to be your problem and not mine.”

They dragged you directly up to her group. It wasn’t large – despite Jane’s beauty, she wasn’t incredibly popular due to her associations. Your friend wasn’t the only one who was a little scared of the Woods boys and Jane had hung out with them for quite a while.

“Hey,” your friend said before even letting you go. “You have no idea who we are but my friend here has a massive crush on you. Could you please just say hi so they can get it out of their system?”

You were sure that it was unhealthy to be as red as you were. It felt like your heart was about to leap from your chest.

Jane laughed, a soft and gentle sound. “I’m not really interested in a relationship,” she hummed. “But thank you. That’s very flattering.”

Somehow, your heart sped up still and you awkwardly rubbed your arm. “No problem?”

“Why don’t you join us for a little bit?” Jane offered. “Just because I don’t want to date anybody doesn’t mean that we can’t become friends. You look like my kind of person.”

You stumbled over your words but somehow, your conversation managed to go extremely well. Jane was brilliant in every possible way and you quickly grew attached to seeing her every day. That was why you mourned so greatly when she died.

Jason the Toymaker

The sun was so warm against your skin. You could stay there forever, stretched out on the grass and basking in the sunlight.

“It’s done,” your friend’s voice broke through your daydreaming

You opened your eyes and rolled over to see exactly what they had been working on for the entire trip. After realising the first few times that you weren’t going to get a reaction, you had decided to wait for them to finish working before you tried to have a conversation.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” you said. “That’s amazing.”

The hyper-realistic man was sketched to perfection with a top hat, a fur coat, and a small mouse sitting on his left shoulder. It felt like his eyes could piece into your soul.

“Who is that?” you asked them.

They stared blankly at the image and shook their head. “I don’t know,” they said. “He’s been in my dreams for so long. I think it has something to do with my amnesia. Maybe I knew him once before.”

“He’s a little intimidating,” you said. “I could imagine him to be a ringleader in a circus that’s like a secret cult. Maybe he’s why you lost your memory.”

“Maybe…” they said, tapping the picture. They suddenly shoved it into your chest and stood up. “You keep that. I don’t want it anywhere near me. I need to go talk to my parents.”

You watched them race out of the park in confusion. The man in the picture stared up at you with haunting eyes.

Folding it in half so it didn’t freak you out, you stood and dusted off your clothing. Maybe it would be best if you headed home. It was getting late either way.

Later on, you’d call your friend and check up on them.

About 10 minutes away from your house, the feeling of being watched snuck up on you. It hung heavily around your shoulders like a cloak. You glanced around but saw nobody.

Still, you didn’t feel comfortable leading whoever was following you back to your house. You made a point of walking amongst large crowds and headed for the police station.

They were watching you the whole way.

You sped up. A few people bumped into you and you apologised as best as you could. Your grip on the picture was getting tighter enough for you to tear it. The later it got, the fewer people were on the streets and so you were pretty much alone when you bumped into him.

It took you a few seconds to recognise the man from the drawing.

If you thought his drawn eyes were captivating, they had nothing on his real ones which glowed with an almost ethereal light.

“You’re him,” you breathed.

He stared at you, smile falling from his face in confusion. “Who?”

You shakily held out the drawing and he yanked it from your hands. “My friend drew that,” you explained. “They said that its of somebody from their past. They have amnesia you see.”

He was unmoving as he studied the picture. You began feeling a little uncomfortable and then his gaze snapped to you. “Is that so?” he asked.

You nodded and took a small step away from him. “Maybe you should go and talk to them? See –“ you swallowed nervously. “See if you can help them remember?”

“No need,” he said, dropping the paper on the ground. “Who are you?”

Your name came out as little more than a soft whisper. Something about the entire scenario made you uneasy. His appearance was too unnatural.

A gust of wind came by, picking up the drawing and whipping it away. You watched it go and when you looked back down, his eyes were locked on you.

“Such a pity,” he said. “You would have been the perfect doll.”

Wearily, you took a step backwards. His words made your stomach churn uneasily. “What are you talking about?”

He smiled. It was kind and warm but it only made you more nervous. His eyes looked like they had almost changed colour; shifted a shade darker than previously. “Thinking aloud my dear,” he said.

“About dolls?” you asked.

He tilted his head a little towards you. “I’m going to have to bid you goodbye. It seems I have other matters to attend to.” He brushed past you, stopping briefly when directly next to you. “Consider yourself lucky.”

He was gone before you could even spin around to face him.

Jeff the Killer

Pausing the song, you removed your earphones as quietly as possible and placed them down on your desk. According to the blinking numbers on your phone screen, it was nearing 2 AM. Far too late for anybody to make an excess of noise.

You listened closely. The music had been too loud for you to hear anything and you almost brushed the strange noise off as your sleep-deprived imagination. Until something squeaked like shoe soles on tiles.

In retrospect, you should have immediately called 911 but you didn’t want to sound a false alarm.

The light switch was thankfully directly outside your room. The hall illuminated most of the house when they were on and it steeled your nerves. Your roommate’s door was open, allowing you to confirm their sleeping state, curled up in their bed amongst the piles of mess. They had had to move to the spare room due to a faulty window earlier in the day and had clearly given up sorting items.

You glanced into the apartment’s other rooms before heading to the kitchen. There was nothing odd. The scuttling when you entered the kitchen just suggested that your neighbour’s rat infestation may be migrating.

Making a mental note to call the exterminator, you turned to switch off the kitchen light.

Something slammed into you, forcing your back to collide with a wall. A hand covered your mouth and the overwhelming scent of blood and decay invaded your nose. Something cold and sharp pressed against your neck.

“Shut up and stay still,” the man snarled at you. “I don’t think anybody will appreciate you getting blood in the kitchen.”

Your heart leapt into your throat and your body stilled. The man in front of you was terrifying. His skin pale and mutilated. Eyes far too wide for a normal person and dancing with an insanity that sent chills down your spine.

And his mouth… a bloody smile carved across his face, stretching halfway to his ears.

He studied your face carefully and his expression twisted. “You’re not the right one,” he snapped. The knife moved away from your neck, so he could point with it. “I had this all planned and yet when I came into that room, I found it empty. Why?”

Even if he hadn’t been holding your mouth shut, you doubted you would have been able to formulate an answer. The pounding heartbeat in your ears was nearly blocking out his voice.

He lightly tapped your cheek with his knife. “Not that it matters,” he said. “I’ll just have to adapt my original plan. You’re not the right target but I’m a huge fan of collateral damage.”

A small whimper escaped you and tears welled at your eyes. You didn’t want to die.

“Don’t blubber!” he ordered. “View it as a good thing. You’ll be all over the news. Another victim of Jeff the Killer. Hell, you might even be added to a Wikipedia page or something.”

You could recall that name from the news. Often followed by a lengthy list of deaths and the police chief begging for any information about the murderer.

Jeff stared at you for a long minute before he pressed the knife’s blade to your throat and moved his hand away from your mouth. “Scream and I will remove your vocal cords,” he threatened. “Who are you?”

It took several deep breaths and a flicker of impatience in his expression to give you the ability to talk again. You stammered out your full name as quickly as you possibly could.

He rolled his eyes and tilted the knife so it scratched your skin. A sticky and warm substance ran down your throat in small droplets. “Pathetic.”

“Sorry,” you whispered on instinct. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You ruined my earlier plans to take out my original target by interrupting me before I could find them. Why shouldn’t I settle for you instead?”

You didn’t have an answer.

He took the blade away from your throat. “If you call the police and report what happened here tonight, I will slice you into little pieces.”

It was almost twenty minutes after he left before you regained any movement in your body. You slumped into a heap on the kitchen floor and started sobbing.

Kagekao

Things had been going missing around your house.

Initially, you had thought it was just due to you forgetting where you’d plopped things because it was simple things. Drinks that vanished, keys turning up on the opposite side of the house, and random spills that you didn’t remember making.

But then it started getting weirder still.

You would make food and pack it away, knowing that you would eat it later, and find it gone. Picture frames disappeared, never to be seen again. Your rug half-unraveled during the night and you found it in a pile the next morning. A candle in your bathroom fell over and, somehow, the curtains on the other side of the house had caught alight.

It was suspicious, to say the very least. You began to think that you had some kind of intruder – once, the news reported that a woman found a homeless man living in her attic and eating her food when she wasn’t looking.

So you went out and bought cameras, setting them up throughout your house.

For two weeks, they caught nothing until one of them ended up breaking. You went to get it repaired and the company managed to recover what it had last seen. Which was nothing on your first glance.

But you were soon to realise, that was only because you had been looking at the floor.

While you were rewatching when you got home, you noticed something. The window was sitting wide open and the camera’s angle only allowed you to see half of it. Right toward the end of the feed, a gloved hand appeared on the side of the window and a slight shadow indicated something climbing through.

So you got reinforced windows and made sure that none were open unless you were in the room.

Things still continued happening.

You were beginning to get really annoyed by this. It was tempting to go to the police and let them just handle it but that was going to be a lot of effort that you really didn’t care for. You didn’t feel like you were in much danger. Nothing had happened in your bedroom.

Your next plan was to set up a trap of some kind. With a hidden camera set up, you made extra food and left it on the counter to see if something happened.

The next day, you watched as a plastic toy of some kind was thrown directly into the plate from somewhere off-camera, breaking it and leaving an absolute mess everywhere.

Still not considering it to be anything dangerous, you just cleaned up the mess and loudly cursed out anybody who was listening. You stalked the house after that, searching every nook and cranny with a bat in hand. The final place was the closet in your bedroom and you peered in, expecting nothing.

When you turned around though, you spotted something sitting in the corner of the room.

It was humanoid with arms twisted into awkward positions and a mask on its face. Half the mask was black and the other white, both sides bearing an unnaturally smiling expression. The creature cackled when you saw it and scuttled out of the door, stuck to the roof the entire time.

A second passed.

Then another.

You pinched your arm hard and waited to wake up. Surely there was no way… I mean, why would… humans didn’t generally crawl along the ceiling? Well, you were quite sure they never did that. You must have been imagining it.

A second laugh corrected you on that.

You swallowed thickly, walked over to your door as calmly as possible and locked it. Then you took out your phone and finally called the police.

Kate the Chaser

The day when Kate was sent away remained very clear in your mind. It was a moment that brought extremely change to your life, mixing up your friend group and sending you in a different direction.

The years has passed and you had never gotten over your best friend. They said that she had lost her mind and you knew it was true. All those games investigating the woods and ghost hunting must have put a toll on her mind. Sometimes, you blamed yourself for all the pranks and you knew that Lauren had similar doubts.

And now she was back.

Lauren and you hadn’t remained close, the entire situation feeling too real with one another. Your greeting was stilted but neither of you wanted to be the first to approach the house.

“Do you think that she remembers us?” Lauren asked.

“If she didn’t then her mom wouldn’t have invited us over,” you said.

You stood in complete silence, staring up at the house. Would you even recognise Kate? The last time that you had seen her was when you were both young children and her face remained at that age in your memories.

Eventually, you gained your confidence before Lauren and you walked over, knocking on the door before anxiety could find you.

Kate answered the door and you forgot why you had ever been nervous.

Time had slimmed her face and shortened her hair. Her eyes were still a gentle brown and the cockiness had faded from her smile, but it was recognisable from your nostalgia. It made you feel warm and known – an aura that you had missed without even realising it.

“Hi,” you greeted.

Kate pulled you into a tight hug and you returned it, clutching at her tightly as though she could slip through your fingers. It really had been too long and when you moved away, she held onto Lauren with the same enthusiasm.

“How have you been?” she asked. “You have to tell me everything.”

The three of you spent the rest of the afternoon having tea and just talking about the world at large. Kate didn’t have many stories from the hospital – she claimed it was because the place had been extremely boring and neither of you pushed to find out more about it. Honestly, it was more comfortable to act as though she had simply moved away.

Lauren had to leave first and you were going to go with her but Kate had looked so down that you remained just a little longer. That was when things got weird.

“I’ve missed music a lot,” Kate sighed.

“Did they not allow you to listen to music?”

She grimaced. “No, they did but often I couldn’t hear it over the static. Its mostly gone away now but it came back last night… it fills my brain and all that I can think of is a way to make the pain stop.”

The colour drained from your face as you stared at her. You didn’t know much about what happened to her but you had thought she would be okay now.

Realising it, Kate hurried to reassure you, “I really have recovered,” she said. “My hallucinations have faded and my medication keeps my emotions in check. You really don’t have to be scared of me.”

You stared down at your cup awkwardly. “I’m not scared of you,” you reassured her. “You’ve never done anything to me.”

She nodded. “It will be alright, you’ll see. I’m ready to get back to a normal life with my friends and not have to worry about that ghost stuff ever again.”

Laughing Jack

It was on your leg…

The glare you fixed the small child with could wilt plants. It didn’t care though and merely clutched at your clothing with a happy smile. “Come play with me?” it asked. “I can introduce you to all my friends!”

“How old is she again?” you grumbled at your friend.

Your friend laughed and ruffled their cousin’s hair. “I had an imaginary friend when I was 10. She’s only 6, she’s still at the stage where they’re a big deal.”

The child was oblivious to your conversation and reached out her arms. “Come on. The parents are being boring. I have candy that my friend gave me. We can share it.”

“I agreed to come along to your family get together to keep you company,” you said to your friend. “You know I don’t like children. Babysitting really isn’t my forte.”

All you received for your complaining was laughter.

By the time you had the 4th teddy bear had been introduced, you were done. Why did one kid have so many toys?

“Now which one of your friends gives you candy?” your friend asked. “Because if it’s from Princess, I don’t think it’s edible. What if she secretly puts glitter in it?”

Expected to play along, you sighed. “Unless it’s glitter from rainbows because then it’s got magic powers and allows you to fly.”

The child liked your thumb-sucked statement because she jumped up in excitement. “I don’t get it from Princess. Jack gives it to me! But if Princess can make me fly, I want to have that kind of candy instead!”

“Which one’s Jack again?” you asked, eyeing the line of toys.

“He’s not here right now,” the child said, biting her inner cheek. She turned in a circle. “Sometimes he hides in the cupboard though!” She ran over to her cupboard and pulled the doors open. “I don’t think – OW!”

She reeled backwards, clutching her cheek. Both you and your friend immediately jumped up and ran over to her. A tiny slice mark ran across the side of her face. It wasn’t anything serious, but she was sobbing as though it would kill her. You presumed a small edge on one of the boxes in the cupboard had been the cause.

“Do you want me to take you to mom, so she can kiss it better?” your friend asked. “Your new best friend can wait here and make sure all your toys are safe.”

The child nodded, and she got led out of the room. You rolled your eyes at the sensitivity and reached into the cupboard to push the box out of the way. A clawed hand reached out of nowhere and grabbed your wrist tightly.

Before you could even shout, it lifted you off the ground by your arm and a second hand had wrapped around your mouth.

The monster’s body appeared out of the closet.

It was a clown. Easily 7ft tall and comprised of monochrome colours with a sharp, pointed nose and long, greasy hair. Its black lips spread into a smile, revealing pointed teeth and a sickeningly sweet breath.

You writhed against its grip, trying to scream or do anything but it was insanely strong, and it just laughed at your efforts.

“How mean,” it purred, leaning in close to your face. “You ask who I am and then, when I appear to you, you insult my appearance. Awful etiquette. Your parents should be concerned about how rude you are to strangers.”

You strained your memory to think about what you had been doing before it grabbed you but the adrenaline was clouding your mind. What had you asked? You struggled more with the lack of memories.

The clown shook its head. “I haven’t revealed myself to somebody so old in a long time. You should be flattered but instead you choose to try and kick me. This is why I don’t do this. Children are far more polite.”

He released you suddenly and you landed hard on the ground. It winked and disappeared, right as your friend and her cousin returned.

“You met Jack!” the child shouted excitedly, pointing to the candy lying next to you.

You shoved it away from you as quickly as possible.

#creepypasta #scenarios #hoodie x reader #marble hornets #homicidal liu #jeff the killer #jane the killer #jason the toymaker #kagekao #x reader #jeff the killer x reader #laughing jack #kate the chaser

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therandomartmaker · 1 year ago

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Lmao these tags are exactly what was going through my mind while i was rambling lol Anyway since you dug me out of my grave in the tags i may as well write somethn

some things to take note of; i’m using the everything we saw was in Ghost Sight hence why Overshadowing was obvious to us as the audience and the whole “Ghosts were described as having pale skin but did not look too different from actual humans” thing for like. the humanoid guards. so. Here we go.

—

Bruce gets accosted by his children frequently. It’s not rare. What is rare is having almost all of his children, including Jason, do it. Steph is going on about this random college kid with “out-of-town” companions/bodyguards, Jason is trying to yell at Bruce for something or other, Tim is egging Jason on, Dick is trying to stop both Tim and Jason and Damian is trying to talk about “experimentation” and “Green Dogs” or “interrogation.”

Unfortunately for all of them, Bruce still has no idea what is going on.

When he does get them all quiet down and go one at a time, Steph starts, and shoves her phone into his face.

The ‘TikTok’ is paused, but it’s framed so that a black haired college student held by a largely-built white-furred person are front and centre, no matter the fact that it’s filmed from around a grocery store aisle.

Steph unpauses it and-

“-look! Batman is not a ghost, i don’t care if you’re Frosty’s second-in-command and have just as much diagnostic knowledge as Frostbite himself. Batman does not set off the ghost sense, he’s just Blessed, or Cursed. You know how it is in Gotham.”

“But Red Hood is-“

“Resurrection is Resurrection. He dug himself out of whatever fuckin’ grave he got, and that’s definitely not being a ghost. Sure it’s against the laws of the universe, but Hood’s already against laws in general-“

The TikTok cuts off when the black haired and apparently blue eyed student and the- Yeti Meta? turn to stare directly into the camera, conversation completely cut off. Bruce doesn’t talk, quietly going over the short but rather informative video.

For one thing, it is obvious that this argument has come up several times. It is odd that this civilian has proper lines and limits for what is considered a ‘ghost’ and what is considered a ‘resurrection.’ It is also obvious that he is a meta, that senses ‘ghosts’ and possibly knows more.

Steph beams at Bruce as she takes her phone away from his vision, “B, this guy’s hilarious, and has no fear! I know it’s obvious that he is close to these Metas but he rides on the shoulders of this one guy that Scarecrow has nothing on, cold turkey-“

Jason steps up, interrupting Steph. “How the fuck does this kid know that.”

The only thing Bruce can give is, “I did not even know this man existed until Steph showed me.”

Bruce only feels slightly scorned by Jason’s tch of annoyance.

Deciding to turn to Tim and Dick for answers, Bruce simply raises a brow at the two.

“Ok ok! I went digging and found out his name is Danny Fenton. He attends Gotham U as an engineering major. Despite the fact that some of this kid’s ‘guards’ look powerful and disruptive enough to be rogues, they all behave and only want to be bodyguards. And he only brings his. Uh. Dog.”

“A mixed breed, that seems to be of the main dog breeds used as guard dogs.”

“He only brings his Green Dog to Gotham U in the first place.”

Alright, now what exactly do Bruce’s kids want him to about this civilian?

After defeating Pariah, Danny finds out he's the new ghost king when his royal guard shows up and refuses to leave.

Given that the ghost king is historically not the kind of person who requires much protection the royal guard tends to be somewhere between honor guard and vanguard as well as a showcase of the king's closest allies. That doesn't mean they won't throw hands (or swords) if anyone attacks their king.

Danny's got Fright Knight representing the Ancients, one of Frostbite's warriors, one of Pandora's warriors, one of Dorathea's guards, and Cujo as the main body of his guard.

In Amity Park this is... not inconspicuous exactly, but it isn't too hard to make it a little less obvious they're protecting Danny specifically. There are plenty of ghosts around, after all, and they only get involved when someone is being attacked. Their presence makes it a lot easier to drive the GIW out of town.

But then college application time comes and Danny has to account for things like ambient ectoplasm levels and how likely an eight foot tall flaming knight is to cause a panic when he decides where he wants to go.

There's really only one choice unless he wants to go to Amity Community College and for all the advantages there (access to the portal, ghosts are normal, cheap) they don't have much in the way of engineering or astronomy classes.

Danny is going to Gotham.

(Sometimes it really is just impossible to avoid the rogue attacks. Unfortunately most ghosts don't care or understand much about Phantom and Fenton being separate identities. Fright Knight sending people to the nightmare dimension for attacking Danny Fenton is going to be hard to explain.)

#randomartmaker writing #short story #dp x dc #dc x dp #go fuckin’ wild y’all

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littleredwing89 · 4 years ago

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AGENT OF CHAOS - PART THREE

Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

Warnings – Language. Kidnapping. Stalking. Mild Violence. Angst. Hurt.

Word Count: 4,870

A/N: This is the final chapter everyone, sorry for the little delay, I was working on a few of the actions scenes to ensure they were good. I really hope you all like this xoxo

~~~

It had been almost a month. Every lead turned into a dead end. Nothing. Much like the Joker himself, no one knew a thing. The whole thing was tearing Jason apart. He’d barely slept. He’d maybe had 3 hours per night. If that, and he was convinced the only reason he got sleep was because Bruce had slipped him something in his coffee.

The fourth cassette tape came with a dead yellow rose and a rotten apple. He pushed play on the recorder and swallowed thickly as the grainy camera zoomed in on your face. You looked pale. Your cheeks looked hollow and your once colourful eyes looked gaunt. Haunted.

“Well Jason, I’m a man of my word...I’ve been looking after her so good”, Joker laughed hysterically and smoothed his hand down your cheek, smacking it lightly. The slap caused you to jolt in the chair. A sharp gasp flew out of your chapped lips.

Jason felt Bruce’s hand squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. The notion sent a brief wave of calm through Jason. Maybe this was how Bruce felt all those years ago...when he received similar tape of ..of himself. Jason turned back to the screen and focused his eyes. Searching for a clue. Anything. Something to bring you back to him.

“She’s been such a good little princess bird boy...she’s done everything I asked...and more”, Joker whistled happily as he tapped your nose with a wicked smile. Jason felt his heart stop and looked directly into your eyes through the screen. Good he wanted to hold you in his arms and never let you go.

The tape skipped and replayed the same thing back, “...and more”. It skipped again, “...and more”. Jason growled and the tape paused before going completely black.

His fist smashed into the computer keyboard, pieces of black plastic scattering across the desk. Jason released a loud sobbing noise and sank to the cold stone floor of the bat cave. His eyes scrunched shut tightly, imagining you were in front of him. Giving him that silly smile you always did when you first woke up. It was one of his favourite smiles. You had hundreds of different types of smiles. The one you gave him when he hugged you randomly. The one you’d give him when he told you a stupid joke. The one you’d show him when you were both standing down one of the grocery aisles for no reason at all.

“Jason...son - we will find her - I promise you”, Bruce’s deep voice shattered Jason’s illusion of you in his mind.

“It’s been so long...what if-”, Jason ran a hand over his face. The stubble was longer, causing him to itch.

“Don’t”, Bruce warned, “don’t think like that. We will find her”.

~~~

The last cassette tape Jason received was covered in a dark, red sticky substance. Jason knew what it was but he didn’t know if it was yours. Before Jason could even think about playing it, Bruce had prized it from his fingers.

“Jason we need to analyse the blood, it might give us a clue”, his voice was stable and deep. He attempted to reassure Jason with a firm grip to the shoulder but it did nothing. Jason felt empty without you.

“We need to watch-”, Jason started but was interrupted by Bruce.

“No, I’ll watch it. You need to get some sleep, let me do this Jason. Please”, Bruce pleaded desperately, “You haven’t slept in over 48 hours”.

Jason laughed but it was hollow and sharp, “You really think I can sleep knowing she’s stuck with that fucking psycho?!”.

Bruce sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Jason I know you want to get Y/N back”, he placed the cassette onto a high tech scanning machine, it bleeped repeatedly as it scanned over the material, “But we all need to be working together and that means recharging our batteries”.

Jason scoffed and pushed past Bruce looking over the computer scanner typing something into the system, “So you’re telling me you went and had an eight hour sleep when Joker caught me?”.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, “Jason”.

“JUST STOP!!”, Jason's voice cracked as he shouted and for a moment, he sounded like the broken man in the abandoned shopping mall that long Halloween night many years ago.

“I-I need to do this Bruce. I-I have to, for Y/N”, his voice was scratchy and raw.

Bruce simply nodded and turned around. He extracted the cassette from the blood stained cloth and pushed it into the player to the right. Bruce took a secondary glance to Jason, giving him one last option but Jason just stared at the screen, waiting to see what the tape would show.

The second the tape played, the batcave was filled with your screams. They sounded broken and dry. Jason’s heart shattered. The shards stabbing him painfully. As you came into view on the camera, your long h/c hair was matted and stuck to your face. Blood staining it a deep red.

The Joker came into the view of the camera and smiled wide, his teeth showing.

“Jason, I see why you’re so attached to this woman, she’s very fiery...her spirit is impenetrable”.

A flicker of evil flew through his eyes at that word and a sick smile slid onto his lips, “but that’s fine. I’m sure I can find more penetrable spots”.

You tug harshly at your binds as he turned and came closer to you, a small blade held in his gloves hand.

“Hold still princess or I might accidentally cut an important part of you...or slit something”.

The blade cut the straps of your top, and the material fluttered down uselessly to the floor, exposing your padded black bra. The Joker whistled appreciatively and winked back at the camera.

“I say Jason...maybe I’m missing out not having a significant other...especially when they’re as beautiful as this”.

Jason had edged so close to the screen Bruce had to pull him back. Tears were running hotly down his cheeks and he swore he tasted blood from biting down on his bottom lip.

Your voice echoed through the empty warehouse room and through the camera speakers, “GO FUCK YOURSELF”.

The Joker smirked down at you and the blade was pressed against the skin of your neck.

“You should watch your manners, princesses don’t speak like that”.

You gulped and looked into his soulless eyes and laughed. It almost sounded as maniacal as his.

“I’m not your fucking princess”.

You spat at his face. Your spit mingled with blood from the earlier smack around the face.

“He’ll come for me...I know he will. And when he does, it’ll be all over for you”.

Something snapped and you saw his eyes darken. His face twisted and the scowl was demonic.

“You filthy fucking bitch!”, he roared and dropped the knife to wipe his face.

Joker turned to the camera and glowered, “I hope you’re watching Jason whilst I teach this rotten little whore some manners!”.

The first blow caused you to cry out in agony. It was harsh and fast. The sound to Jason was ear splitting. The second hit was drawn out and heavy. Designed to bruise. The third was sharp and felt like hundreds of tiny needles piercing your skin. The Joker was laughing wildly all the way through it. Never ceasing his treatment. As he swung his arm back for the fourth hit, the camera jarred and caught a window. Streams of light shone through. Jason could just about make out a sign. It was blurry.

“REWIND AND PAUSE IT BRUCE! There!!!”, he called and waited for Bruce to zoom in.

“Can you clear up that image...that looks like a road sign...”.

Bruce skipped the tape back several seconds, muting the sounds on the screen. The sounds of you getting smacked in the face shaking him to his core.

“THERE!!! LOOK!! Can you see?!”, Jason pressed his face as close as possible to the screen as Bruce paused it, the image flickered but the road sign was obvious.

ACE CHEMICALS.

Before Bruce could even react, Jason had launched himself across the cave, guns strapped to his thighs.

“Jason!”.

Jason ignored Bruce and grabbed his helmet, securing it into place whilst dropping extra magazine clips into his inner jacket pockets.

“Jason, we can’t just go in there all guns blazing. That’s what he’ll want! We have to think about this”, Bruce reasoned and moved into his path.

Huffing in annoyance, Jason’s modulator covered it easily, “I’m going to get her whether you come with me or not”.

Bruce looked stunned for a split second before softening his voice, “You’re letting your emotions get the better of you - they’re clouding your judgment Jason”.

He knew he was right, deep down. But the pressure. The torture you must have endured. Everything. It weighed down on Jason and began to suffocate him slowly. The more time he wasted, the worse it was going to be. He couldn’t do it.

“Let me get into my suit and we’ll tackle this together”.

Nodding briefly, Jason watched Bruce make his way across to the darkened corner of the cave where his suit was behind a glass panel. As Bruce pressed his palm into the wall, the biometric scanner bleeped. The case slid open slowly and Bruce began to take out the suit piece by piece. The batarangs refracted the light they caught from the computer screens.

Fuck. It was taking too long, these precious seconds. He could be half way there by now. His bike was too far away, in the garage at the front of the manor. He side eyed the batmobile and swallowed thickly.

“Fuck it”.

Taking the keys from the secret sliding panel on the desk, Jason leapt into the batmobile before starting the engine and speeding out of the cave. He swore he heard Bruce shouting, he was certain he heard several curse words too. Unlike Bruce. But it was taking too long. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t leave you. You needed him. You couldn’t wait any longer.

~~~

Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

“Come on...come on!!”, Jason cursed to himself, hitting the steering wheel in fury. All the money Bruce had and it wouldn’t go any faster? He took a sharp turn heading towards the abandoned warehouse behind ACE Chemicals. He was so close. So much closer to reaching you. He’d deal with Bruce later. He couldn’t have waited any longer. Bruce would just have to get over him ‘borrowing’ the batmobile.

Swerving another corner and narrowly dodging the underpass columns, he pulled up in front of the derelict building. Almost all of the windows were smashed and hued green with mould. Maybe some of the toxins spewed from the factory had helped taint the glass further.

Grabbing both of his pistols, Jason left the car and headed towards the building fire escape. He could hear voices chattering.

“Joker said to keep an eye out for Batman”.

A goon; Jason noted peering around the brick wall spotting two of them. He noticed the metal railings above them creaking slightly in the strong winds.

“It’s been over a month now and there’s been no sign of any of the Bat freaks, it’s fine, let’s go grab a beer. He won’t even notice”, a second one encouraged the other smirking.

“You really want to cross him? He’s fucking nuts. I’m surprised the girl has even lasted this long with him, you know what he’s like”.

Jason’s fist tightened around one of his guns at the mention of you. It had to be you. Silently firing his grapple gun, he flew up the side of the building and made his way towards the goons.

“Trust me”, the first one spoke again, “He won’t even realise we’re gone, plus we might find some chicks to-”.

Perching on the railings above them, Jason leapt down cracking the base of his pistols onto one of their heads.

“Pleasure to meet you both”, Jason kicked out at the second goon hearing the sick crack of his ankle snapping.

Spinning on his heel, Jason grabbed the other goon and threw him face first into the brick wall knocking him unconscious immediately before turning back to the other man on the floor whimpering in pain.

“Where is she?”, Jason’s voice was strained even with the modulator protecting him.

The man refused to answer, dragging himself away from Jason with his hands, mud covering his palms.

Taking a large step, Jason reached the man on the floor and purposely stood onto his swollen ankle before aiming the cocked pistol towards his skull.

“I won’t ask again, where is she?”.

The screech from the man was deafening as Jason applied a hefty amount of pressure to his fractured bone.

“Basement!! She’s in the basement!! Please!!”, he begged as his eyes flickered nervously to the gun.

Jason rolled his shoulders before smashing the hilt of his pistol into his skull knocking him out cold. He turned back towards the fire escape and grappled back up to the roof. He’d have to make his way through the building to get to the basement. To you. And if he knew Joker, he wouldn’t have made it that easy. The two idiots on the front door were a sick joke. Tormenting Jason. Getting you back wouldn’t be an easy task.

~~~

Silently dropping through the window on top of the building, Jason landed onto one of the rusty steel girders. It was dark but his helmet adjusted the night vision so he could see clearly. Several goons patrolling an old foreman’s office in the centre. You had to be in there. He needed to take these idiots out quietly before getting to you.

Swinging across to the next rafter, Jason looked down at the first unsuspecting moron. With the stealth of a panther, he landed silently behind the goon before wrapping his arm around his meaty neck. He struggled against the iron grip of Jason’s forearm but the pressure only intensified the more he thrashed. Eventually the squirming stopped and the goon fell limp in his arms. Jason dragged him across to a darkened corner and dumped him behind some barrels.

As he grappled back up to roof beams, he looked down across at the two henchmen digging out a packet of cigarettes. The idiots had left their guns resting against the far wall. Jason had to chuckle to himself, Joker really was hiring morons. Weren’t these guys supposed to be protection?

Jason creeped across the rafters towards the two men and grabbed both of his pistols. He had to be silent. He couldn’t alert Joker to his presence.

“This is my last smoke”, one complained bitterly as the cigarette perched between his thin lips.

“I’ll get the next packet, quit your whining”, the second growled and patted his jacket for a lighter, “Fuck, where did I put my lighter?”.

“You’re a fucking moron. You asked to come for a smoke and you don’t even have a light!!”.

Now was his chance. Jason landed between them both, his boots thudding as he hit the concrete floor, “You know, smoking is bad for your health”. Before either of the goons could react, Jason lifted his elbow into the larger man's throat before smashing his pistol into the other man's temple, causing him to drop onto his knees. He slipped his guns back into his holsters quickly before turning to the other goon. He dodged the larger man’s grapple before twisting with ease and kicking out his kneecap. The man gasped but the elbow to his throat had killed off his voice.

Jason threw a heavy right hook into the larger man's nose and watched the blood trickle down his face. This seemed to only infuriate him more and he launched himself towards Jason viciously. Gripping both of his arms, Jason flipped the man over his body and slammed him into the floor hard before hammering punch after punch to his face, knocking him unconscious.

He turned quickly to the other man who was scrambling on his knees for the gun resting against the far wall.

“Sorry bud, but that can’t happen”, Jason grunted and landed a heavy kick to the goons stomach. The man yelped but it was quickly cut off by Jason as he slammed his boot into his face. He dropped onto the floor instantly.

Jason panted heavily and looked around the room, his helmet advising him of one more goon loitering around the door of the office. Looking down at the floor he noticed the floor grates wrapped around the room and more importantly under the henchmen’s feet. Perfect.

He lifted one of the grate coverings quietly and slipped under the flooring. He crouched down and edged around the room. The last goon was much larger and bulkier, with a machine gun strapped around his wide chest.

This goon seemed smarter than the others. Looking around and even checking up in the rafters. He grunted and pressed a button on his jacket, “No boss, still no sign of them...nothing Sir”.

The voice that patched through sent a chill down Jason’s spine. It was a tone that would be forever cemented in his mind, a reminder of his own torment.

“If you get ANY inclination the bat or any of his costumed freaks are in the building, you tell me immediately”.

“Yes boss”.

The static of the radio crackled before cutting off completely. Jason cursed mentally. This had to be precise. Perfection. He had to disable the henchman’s radio unit. Padding over his jacket he searched for the disrupter shooter he had. It wasn’t there. Fuck. He’d fucked up in his rush and left it behind. Fuck. Bruce was right. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Then he heard it. A soft ping from above him. He knew that sound. Jason looked up from the grate and spotted Nightwing hidden in the shadows with his own disrupter. Pointed directly at the goon’s radio system.

“Thought you might need a hand”, Dick patched into Jason’s com line.

Jason growled under his breath, “Thanks”.

“Shall we take this moron out together?”.

“Yes”, Jason muttered before switching his com off and inched closer to the goon.

The second Nightwing flew down from the roof beams, Jason jumped out of the floor grate and kicked out the back of the goons knees. He cursed loudly before Nightwing’s foot landed in his face.

Jason swore he saw a tooth fly out of his mouth along with a glob of blood. He aimed several hard punches to the side of the henchman’s head whilst Nightwing disabled his gun and radio with a graceful poise.

“All this for the girl? She’s nothing but a shell”, the goon smirked across at Jason before choking at the next punch.

“Joker’s hollowed her out...she’s nothing”, he spat out.

His temper flared and his hand subconsciously reached for his pistol. Dick realised and before anything could happen, he landed an electrical ecrisma blow to the goons head, knocking him out cold. His body crashed onto the floor with a loud thump.

“Jason-”.

“Don’t”, Jason cut him off, “I’m fine”.

He took several steps towards the office door and swallowed thickly. You. You’d be in there. You’d told Joker with the last ounce of confidence left that he’d come for you. He’d never leave you. You were right. Jason would never have stopped looking. Ever.

His hand rested on the door handle, trembling only slightly. What if he was too late. What if this was just another trick?

Drawing his hand back almost as though the door had burnt him. He frowned. He couldn’t think like this. No. He had to be strong. Just like you had been in all those videos. You’d been fierce. Your spirit still pouring through to him.

Jason glared angrily at the door and took a step back before kicking it open furiously with his combat boot. The door flew open wildly and as the dust settled. He saw Joker stood in the middle of the room, a sick, satisfied smirk sat proudly on his demented face.

~~~

“Jason my boy! It’s a pleasure to see you again”, his chuckle was deep and sinister, “I see you're still hiding your face though...is that because of what I did?”. The Joker’s eyes danced with delirious joy at the memories.

“I’d have thought you’d have embraced all your scars by now Jason...”, The Joker edged forward leaving you tied up behind him.

Jason rounded The Joker, clicking a button to the side of his mask, revealing his face, his eyes hidden with the domino mask, “I’ve got nothing to hide from you, clown”.

Jason let his eyes run over you for a second. You were bruised and bloodied. Clothes torn and tattered from mistreatment. Your eyes. God. Your beautiful E/C eyes. Red raw from countless tears. Somehow you still managed to give him a smile from behind The Joker. His heart fluttered. God he’d missed your smile.

Tearing his eyes from you he looked back towards The Joker and held his pistols out at him, finger hovering over the trigger. Jason felt the burn mark on his cheek stinging all over again. Pain ever present.

“You don’t have the guts”, The Joker laughed again and walked forward pressing his forehead into the barrel of the gun.

“You wouldn’t dare pull that trigger. I’m your Ace card Jason. You can’t kill me. You want to but you can’t...something will always stop you”.

Jason felt his hand shaking slightly. Everything was throbbing in his mind.

“Even after everything I’ve done to your girl, you still can’t pull that trigger”, The Joker taunted further and grinned sadistically.

“If only you knew where I’d touched...what I’ve done...”, he pushed further into the cold metal of the gun and winked at Jason, “Go on, do it, I dare you...if you don’t- I’m just going to keep coming back and who knows what I’ll do to our little princess next-”.

BANG.

A gun shot blasted through the air. Smoke drifted slowly from the barrel, dancing into the darkness around them.

“JASON!”.

Nightwing had thrown one of his ecrisma sticks to Jason’s gun, knocking it off target. The bullet shattered the brickwork behind them, dust erupting.

Crashing down through one of the broken windows on top of the office roof, Nightwing flew towards The Joker tackling him down onto the damp, concrete floor before he could launch himself at Jason.

Still startled, Jason watched Dick wrestling with The Joker on the floor, punches flying back and forth.

Dick turned to Jason, “Y/N-Jason!! Go get Y/N!! I’ll handle this!”.

The Joker was shrieking with laughter underneath Dick, blood pouring down his lip and from his nose.

“Ahhhh another boy blunder!! I must be lucky!! Two for the price of one!”.

Dick threw another punch and reached for the second ecrisma stick on his back, “I can’t wait to cart you back to the Asylum. I hope you’re looking forward to your 5 star stay in a windowless cesspit!”.

Jason could hear Joker continually laughing at Dick, until the sharp sound of electrical buzzing cut him off with a loud scream.

He almost fell over his own feet as he raced towards you. Jason quickly untied your hands and the second they were free you flung them around his neck, sobbing into his neck. Your tears dropping onto his brown leather jacket.

“Oh baby”, Jason stroked your hair and held you tightly to him. He was worried he was crushing you but you seemed to be squeezing him back just as hard.

You didn’t stop sobbing. The overwhelming emotion of being wrapped in his safe, strong arms make your knees buckle. Jason caught you with ease and lifted you up, “It’s ok baby, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”.

Jason was one step away from breaking down himself but he needed to be strong for you right now.

You pressed your skin against his, the scratch of his stubble a welcome sting against your cheek. His scent overwhelmed you. Leather. Gunpowder. Smoke. And something distinct you’d never been able to place.

“Jason”.

“Shhh, it’s ok - nothing is going to hurt you, I’m here now - I’m a bit late but I’m here”.

~~~

It had been one week since you’d been back home. Two weeks if you counted the first week you and Jason spent holed up in the manor. Bruce had insisted. You sat in the bathtub, knees pressed up against your bare chest. Silence. All you could hear was the faint crackle of the bubbles every now and again. The clinical white tiles of the bathroom made you feel a little cleaner.

However, no matter how many baths you took, showers you stood in, you still couldn’t wipe the feel of the slick purple gloves off your skin. Your skin. Skin that was now marred with yellowish bruising. Almost faded physically but not mentally. Looking over the marks you felt yourself transported back into the desolate warehouse. The dank smell of stagnant water filling your nostrils. You choked and coughed loudly, suddenly feeling the oxygen clam up your throat. Drowning in the memories.

“Y/N??”.

Within a mere second Jason had flung open the bathroom door, red tinting his cheek and a little sweat on his forehead, “Sweetheart are you ok?”.

You noted how he chose to call you sweetheart now and not his usual princess. A stark reminder that this whole ordeal had affected him too, more than he’d admitted. You felt the guilt eat away at you. Shame burning at your feet.

“Y-yeah, I’m ok”, you mumbled quietly and swirled some of the water and bubbles around you, “I just accidentally swallowed some of the bath water, I’m sorry”.

Jason nodded although not quite believing you. He closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the tub taking a deep breath, “It’s ok to not be ok sweetheart...I know it can be difficult to admit that...I know that more than most”, he wiped a stray bubble from the rim of the tub. He looked at you deeply before continuing, “I’ll be here for you...whenever and whatever you need”.

You sat silently in the water and he moved to get up. Maybe he thought it was best to leave you alone, let you uncover your own emotions. Process what had happened. You gripped his wrist and looked up into the crystal blue of his eyes, “Jason”.

“Yeah babe?”, he turned his wrist in your hand and linked his fingers with yours.

“I love you”.

He smiled and squeezed your hand before whispering back, “I love you too, more than you know”.

He looked over you and moved to sit back on the edge of the bath. His spare hand reached out and cupped your chin lovingly, stroking over your skin.

“We’ll work through this together Y/N, I promise”, Jason murmured and leaned forward kissing your forehead lightly, “I’ll do whatever you need me to do...anything at all”.

The words, the touches, the kiss. It made your heart flutter and you fell even more in love with him. Jason made the impossible possible and you had no idea how he managed it every day. You felt so lucky.

“I - I struggle some d-days”, you admitted and with those words you felt a little lighter, “sometimes all I want is for you to hold me and not let me go...Sometimes I-I f-feel like that for hours...”.

“Well then I’ll hold you for hours”, he said simply.

You scoffed lightly but before you could protest or think of arguing back he was stepping into the bath water fully clothed.

“Jay!! You’re going to flood the bathroom”, you gasped loudly, watching the water splash over the sides like dramatic tidal waves. Water dispersed all over the bathroom floor to make way for his broad frame, “What are you doing?!”.

Jason sunk down into the water behind you and wrapped his arms either side, pulling you back into his clothed chest. He rested his head on your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss there, “Holding you for as long as you need me to”.

You felt yourself melt into his warm embrace. Tears made their way down your cheeks at his endearing show of love, “Jason”.

“Shhh, just let me hold you baby”, he cuddled you tighter into him, his fingers stroking your hips under the water, brushing away the bruises. Marking you with his own special touch.

Relaxing under his soft caresses, you hummed lightly and closed your eyes resting your head back against him. He smelt like leather and spice. You felt at home. He was home.

“Jay”.

“Mmm?”.

“Please call me princess”, you whispered quietly into the air, your eyes still closed.

“Whatever you want...princess”.

~~~

Special Thanks: @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella - thank you both for proof reading this and all the help you have given me - mwah mwah. xoxo

Tag List: @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella @batarella-mini @lucy-roo @illzarr @pricetagofficial @jadedhillon @vvipgot7be @clementinesandstars @thedeadlythoughts @fantasticwizardnerd @power-of-words23 @vintagexparker @borntobewondering @l-inkage @fourteengemstones @ficrecsideblog @insane-without-delirium @so-now-what-huh @imjeralee @geekonaleash @dairydragon84 @dragonchildyuki @ediwdac @fxrchxldws @hyperfixationsandhecticness @chelinn @maniacproffesor @8ether @the-abyss-of-fandoms @babymango-writes @indigowcrds @catxsnow @lostoctaviaaugusta @empower-bi-women @jd-loves-everyone @xatanna-troy @phoenixhalliwell @a-sketchy-jedi @ramdomtails @ximaginx @little-miss-naill @spideypoolfeelz @queenbelena @rosalietodd013 @multifandomgirl-us @multitudinous-writes @mariechen1397 @brennenscolby @batgalsblog @bamboozledjt @crappy-unicorn @batmom69 @adazzlingsakura @weirdgirlfromtx @anousiemay @iamsofuckinglostsblog @pinklipsnotips @celestialgalaxies @galvysta @novelisticmess @onfir3 @this-hufflepuff @secretlovexo @naeratargaryen @eyelessjackswife @maplumebleue-blog-blog @futuristicallysweetstarfish @dianduh11 @beccis18 @kaylossol @alex-ehhh @hambuurgerz @mando-e @laguana-doofinsmirtz - Drop me a message if you want to be added to my tag list. xoxo

~~~

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader insert #jason todd x reader series #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood smut #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight x you #arkham knight x reader series #arkham knight imagine

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wayward-dreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Under The Red Hood

Square/s Filled: Red Hood (@anyfandomgoesbingo), Jensen Ackles (Tell Me A Story Bingo).

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word count: 3,458

Rating: Explicit 18+!

Summary: Y/N is a photographer, friend of a SPN crew member, who agrees to take the photos of Jensen in his Red Hood costume. They instantly catch each other’s eye, fighting the urge to jump each other until after the shoot is over.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut: Dirty talk, Oral Sex (male receiving), Hair pulling, Brief spanking, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it people), Fluff.

A/N: This one shot is also for @supernatural-jackles‘ Tell Me a Story Bingo, Square Filled: Jensen Ackles. Thanks to my twin @downanddirtydean for being beta on this one! And a special thanks to @wonder-cole as a conversation about Under the Red Hood sparked this fic idea! As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Y/N walked through the studio lot, smiling as she walked past crew members that she recognized. Making her way to the costumes trailer, she adjusted the visitor badge around her neck, making sure it was visible. She had been on the Supernatural set a few times, each time going to visit her friend who worked in the costume department, and she always came back with amazing memories. Everyone was so nice and instantly made her feel welcomed, making her wish she could just ditch her actual job and somehow work there.

The last few times she had been there, she had only ever seen Jared. Jensen was an elusive figure in her mind, either never there when she was or extremely busy while filming that she never caught a glimpse of him. Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case this time around.

Finding the costumes trailer with ease, she walked up the small steps and knocked on the door. The door opened instantly, and she squealed as she saw her friend, Sarah, on the other side. They hugged tightly, happy to see each other as it had been a while since they had.

“Come in, come in,” Sarah muttered, gesturing quickly into the trailer.

She shut the door once Y/N walked in, her eyes scanned around the trailer at all the clothes in there.

“Wow, you’ve been busy,” Y/N said, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s a crazy week,” Sarah breathed, her hands on her hips as she looked around the small space. “But you have to see what I did.”

Sarah moved behind one of the clothes racks, and pushed a mannequin out, causing Y/N’s eyes to widen.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, as she walked closer to admire her friend’s handiwork.

Sarah was big into cosplay, making her own costumes and doing photoshoots, ones that Y/N was usually the photographer for. Sarah would also make outfits for other people, and as Y/N admired the Red Hood cosplay in front of her, she of course knew it was for someone else.

“Babe, this is fantastic!” Y/N couldn’t believe the detailing, her eyes constantly moving over every part of the costume.

��Thank you,” Sarah said, smiling wide. “And uh… it’s the real reason I called you here today.”

“Okay…” Y/N turned to her, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for her friend to explain.

Just as Sarah was about to speak, the door to the trailer opened and Y/N felt as if her knees were about to buckle. Jensen walked in, smiling at Sarah and giving her a hug, both of them discussing their days so far. She found herself staring at him, noticing that the cameras just didn’t do him justice. Seeing him right in front of her… she felt parched.

“Jensen, this is my friend, Y/N,” Sarah introduced them, smiling.

“Ah, so this is your photographer friend who I keep missing,” he said, a smile spreading across his face, every one of his brilliant white teeth beaming. “Good to finally meet you, Y/N.”

He offered her his hand, and she placed hers in his, telling herself to calm down as she shook it.

“You too,” she said, smiling back.

Sarah looked between them, knowingly. “Okay, so… the reason you’re here.”

“Yes, enlighten me,” Y/N muttered, turning to her.

Sarah looked between Jensen and her and smiled. “So, I made this on a whim, but then I remembered Jensen did Under the Red Hood and so I adjusted the measurements. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to do a photoshoot, and luckily he agreed.”

Y/N looked at Jensen and he shrugged, with a bright smirk on his face. She understood what Sarah was telling her straight away. She wanted her to take the photos. She was about to spend an extensive amount of time with this gorgeous man in front of her. She wasn’t nearly prepared for that.

“Well, luckily I have my camera in the car,” Y/N said, looking between them. “When are we thinking of doing it?”

“We’ve got an extended lunch, so we were thinking we’d head out to the old train tracks on the end of the road,” Jensen explained, his eyes boring into hers.

She nodded, trying to tell herself to speak but the words weren’t coming to her.

“So, you in?” Sarah asked, bouncing slightly on her feet, unable to contain her excitement.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, his eyes glancing over Y/N as the smirk never left his face. With that look, how could she say no?

“Let’s do it,” she replied, smiling wide.

“Awesome.” He gave her a small nod, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Yes!” Sarah yelled with a small laugh. “Alright, you get dressed and I’ll keep everything I need. We’ll meet you at the car?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed, a small smile on her face as she looked at her friend.

With one last glance at Jensen, she left the trailer and walked back to the parking lot. She walked over to her car, opening the passenger side door and taking out her camera bag. She waited by Sarah’s car, smiling as she thought about the small interaction between her and the green-eyed actor. There was an attraction already, she could sense it, and she had to hope it wouldn’t be too presumptuous of her to ask him over to her apartment once he finished filming.

Hearing footsteps approaching after a few minutes, she turned to see Sarah and Jensen walking over. He was now in the Red Hood outfit, and she felt a heat radiate throughout her body. The leather cinched in all the right places, and she found it hard to look away from him as he got closer. Sarah unlocked her car, dumping her bag in the backseat.

“What do you think?” he asked, his arms out to his sides as he turned slowly.

She quickly glanced down, biting her lip as she admired the way the leather pants accentuated his ass. Their eyes met as he turned back around, both of them smiling flirtatiously.

“I think… you don’t want to know what I think,” she replied, biting her lip.

His eyes moved over her; the smirk still present on his face. “Maybe I do.”

She shook her head with a small laugh, turning away from him and opening the door to the backseat, sitting behind the passenger side.

“Very considerate of you to give me shotgun,” he said, looking back at her as he sat in the passenger seat.

“Well, it just means you have to shut your cake hole,” she countered, laughing.

“Fan of the show, huh?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh yeah,” she replied, nodding.

“You know, Jay…” Sarah started, as she pulled out of the parking space and drove towards the exit. “Y/N’s a Dean girl.”

She felt her cheeks heating up and was thankful she was sitting in the backseat, so he couldn’t see her.

“Good to know,” he said, softly as he continued to smile.

Sarah drove them out to the old tracks, surrounded by old factories that weren’t operational anymore. They got out of the car, both women taking what they needed with them, and walked along the buildings until they got to the tracks. Y/N suggested a few angles she could take photos from, seeing what would look better in the background before they started. She took a few photos of Jensen with the helmet on first, knowing it would easier on her if she couldn’t look into his eyes.

“Hey, do you think if they ever wrote Jason as older, you would do it?” she asked, as she checked over the last couple of pictures she took.

“If that happened, I certainly wouldn’t say no to at least auditioning,” he replied once he took off the helmet.

Sarah walked over, fixing his hair as told him to close his eyes, allowing her to cover his eyelids and around his eyes with the black makeup. She took out the red eye mask and fitted it over his eyes to his face, stepping back and admiring her work. Y/N was barely keeping it together before, and then Sarah had to go and add the damn mask.

Y/N took a deep breath as positioned herself with her camera again. It was becoming increasingly harder to look at him, and she was practically praying that Sarah would be satisfied by the number of photos soon, so that they could head out and she could actually do something about the way she was feeling. As she looked through the eyepiece, she saw him look at her directly and wink, before quickly turning back into the pose he was in. It was completely unfair that he knew the effect he was having on her and using it to his advantage.

Soon enough, Sarah looked through the photos and hugged her tightly, ecstatic about how they turned out. As she told her which ones to send to her, Y/N looked over at Jensen, smiling as she saw him looking at her. He walked over to Sarah, looking over her shoulder at the photos on the camera.

“These are great, Y/N,” he said, looking up at her. “Thanks for doing this.”

She smiled at him, shaking her head. “No problem.”

“Alright, we better head back,” he sighed, frowning slightly. “As much fun as that was, I have to get back to being Dean.”

“Well, you’ve still got some time before you have to be back,” Sarah said, looking between them. “So why don’t I take the car back and you two can talk?”

Jensen and Y/N looked at each other, before she looked at her friend and glared at her.

“I’ll take your camera for you, too,” she offered, walking over to Y/N.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked, whispering as she continued to glare at her.

“You can thank me later,” Sarah whispered back, winking before she turned away.

“You two have fun,” Sarah called out, taking her bag and Y/N’s camera bag, along with the helmet to the costume.

“Wow, she really just left us out here,” Jensen muttered, his voice deep and gravelly. He chuckled as he looked over at Y/N, her laugh joining his.

“Yeah,” she agreed, shaking her head. “I guess we better get back.”

“Well…” he trailed off, turning to her. “I’ve got time to spare if you do.”

She looked at him, sighing as she bit her lip, contemplating what he was suggesting. “Where?” she asked, glancing around.

He smirked, offering her his gloved hand. “Follow me.”

Y/N slipped her hand into Jensen’s, allowing her to lead her past warehouses, coming to a small gap between two where he stopped. She turned to him and smiled, gasping as he leaned down, kissing her fervently. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing herself closer to him as he moved into her, pushing her up against the side of the warehouse. She pulled away from his lips, breathing harshly from the intensity of the kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you,” he mumbled against her lips, lightly nipping at her bottom one.

“I’m just glad you finally did,” she said, her eyes glancing over his outfit.

“Costume doing it for you, huh?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.

“Fuck yes,” she gasped, grabbing his leather jacket in her hands and pulling him closer.

She kissed his pouty lips, softly sucking at the bottom one as she deepened the kiss, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together tightly, neither of them wanting to move as they continued their feverish embrace. She felt herself getting wet already, the attraction between causing her arousal to build.

“Fuck, I want you,” she whispered against his lips.

He groaned slightly as he pulled her closer and turned them around, his back now against the building. She reached for the belt on his pants, quickly unbuckling it as she unzipped the pants, tugging them down along with his boxers. His hard cock sprung free from the confines, and she bit her lip at the sight of him.

She hummed as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, bending her head to drop some of her saliva along his length. “Fuck, your cock is so perfect.”

She pumped her hand back and forth, smirking as he closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall. She moved down to her knees, smiling up at him as she leaned in, kissing the tip of his cock. She sucked at the pre-cum before moving her mouth over him, taking him in. She began to bob her head, his shaft sliding between her lips and hitting the back of her mouth with each stroke.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his hands moving into her hair. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

She moaned around him, the vibrations around his shaft shooting straight through his whole body, as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling her wetness begin to soak her panties.

“Fucking love your mouth,” he grunted, as he watched her.

She looked up at him, winking as he watched his cock slide back and forth between her lips. She pulled back, gasping as her hand wrapped around it and stroked him, her saliva coating his shaft. His hand suddenly came down, stopping her movement.

“You got to stop, baby,” he said, breathing heavily. “I have to fuck you, and I won’t be able to if you keep going.”

She quickly stood up, stripping her jacket off and pulling up her top, revealing the black lacy bra she wore underneath. Jensen pulled back the Velcro of each glove, pulling them off and tossing them on the ground.

“Come here, darlin’,” he whispered, his Texas drawl seeping through as he cupped her face gently in his hands.

He leaned in, kissing her heatedly, her hands holding onto his wrists to keep him from moving. He moved one hand away from her face, his knuckles lightly brushing the soft skin of her stomach as it moved down to the top of her jeans. He opened the button and zip, slowly pushing his hand in and rubbing his fingers over the fabric of her wet panties.

“Jensen,” she gasped.

“Look what sucking my cock did, Y/N,” he said, smirking. “Can I see just how wet you are?”

She nodded, looking into his green eyes, still framed by the red mask. He slipped his hand past the waistband of her panties, his fingers moving lower between her folds. He groaned as they met her slick, smirking as he looked at her.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he groaned, smiling at her. “So ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she whimpered.

Jensen pulled his hand out of her panties and pulled her into him, turning her around and pressing her front against the wall. She gasped as she turned her head, looking back at him. He smirked at her as he hooked his fingers into the top of her jeans, pulling them down to her knees along with her panties. He let out a low grunt at the sight of her ass, his hand lifting up and landing against the globe, causing her to yelp.

“Fuck,” she gasped, a small chuckle leaving her lips.

He squeezed the flesh, smirking as their eyes met. “You like that, darlin’?”

She nodded, angling herself so that she could look at him.

“I’ll have to remember that for tonight,” he said, his voice low and deep.

She smiled, biting her lip at the realization that he wanted to see her again. He pushed his pants open a little wider, taking hold of his cock and placing it at her entrance. He teasingly pushed in an inch, the head of his cock moving in and then out, feeling her already clench around him.

“Fuck, Jensen,” she whimpered. “Please fuck me. Please.”

“Patience, Y/N,” he muttered, chuckling.

He pushed forward, his cock sinking into her heat right to the base, his pelvis pressed against her ass. He groaned, feeling her sheath him, clenching around him perfectly. He wasted no time, instantly setting a quick pace to his thrusts, moving deep within her.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, her hands balling into fists against wall.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, as he held onto her hips and pulled them back against his. “Feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“Jay,” she gasped, looking back at him. “Fuck me harder, faster.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, making quick work of speeding up. He angled her hips and grunted, feeling his cock slide deeper into her and hit her sweet spot repeatedly as her walls clenched around him, causing her to cry out.

“Fuck yes! Right there,” she moaned, loudly. She had a brief thought that someone could hear them, but she forgot about it as he continued to thrust into her. “Fuck, Jensen, your cock feels so good inside me.”

His hand reached forward and wrapped around her hair, tugging it roughly. “Is that what you wanted, Y/N?”

“Yes, fuck yes!” she yelled. “God, feels so fucking good.”

He tugged her hair again, pulling her back towards him, her back pressed to his chest. He thrusted up into her, his lips close to her ear.

“Can’t wait for tonight,” he whispered, softly nipping at her ear lobe. “The things I’m going to do to you… you’re gonna be screaming my name all night, darlin’.”

“Fuck,” she gasped, turning her head and looking into his green orbs, his red eye mask still in place. She moaned loudly, feeling herself clench around him, as his thrusts began to falter. They were both close to their release, the coil within her winding tight.

“You’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” he asked, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah,” she cried out, nodding against his shoulder. “Make me cum.”

He grabbed her hips tight in his hands, his hips thrusting faster into her, the slap of skin mixing with their pleasured moans reaching their ears. She suddenly threw her head back, moaning as her climax hit her like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she yelled. “Jensen, oh god yes!”

He felt his cock pulsing within her, causing him to stop his hips, as he throbbed and spurted ropes of cum within her, her walls contracting around him.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed.

Jensen leaned down, kissing her shoulder blade softly. He stood up and slowly pulled out of her, turning away from her as he pulled up his boxers. They redressed in silence, but Y/N couldn’t help but look at him as he fixed all the buckles and zips of the costume back into place. He glanced at her, smirking as he caught her looking at him.

“Man am I glad this worked for you,” he said, pulling the leather jacket back into place.

“Me too,” she said, softly as she smiled at him.

“I’ll have to remember it for another time,” he said, wagging his eyebrows.

She hummed, as a playful glint in her eyes as she looked at him. “Maybe you’ll have to be dressed as Dean next time.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, stepping closer to her and pulling her into him. “You’re full of surprises, babe.”

“Yes, I am,” she whispered, softly pecking his lips.

“So… about tonight,” he started, chuckling slightly. “Uh, you don’t have to take it, but… the offer’s there.”

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck. “There’s no way I’d give that up.”

He leaned in, kissing her sensually, pulling her close. Pulling away after a moment, he looked deep into her eyes.

“We really owe Sarah a big one,” he said, smirking.

“Absolutely,” she whispered, pulling him closer by his leather jacket and kissing him, passionately.

They hurried back to set, no one the wiser of what had occurred between them. Jared eyed him suspiciously, but he would just have to wait to hear that story. Y/N stayed for another couple of hours, soon saying her goodbyes to everyone and hugging Sarah, promising to tell her what happened later after she asked. As she grabbed her camera bag and left the set, she and Jensen exchanged looks, both of them smiling as they anticipated what would be happening later.

She walked towards her car, a spring in her step as she smiled, butterflies in her stomach as she couldn’t wait to spend the night with the green-eyed actor who had captured her heart.

And maybe, just maybe, it would end up being more than one night.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @whatareyousearchingfordean @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester

#anyfandomgoesbingo #tell me a story bingo #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x female!reader one shot #jensen ackles x female!reader smut #jensen ackles one shot #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fanfiction #supernatural rpf #supernatural fanfiction

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psychovigilantewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 14 - A Different Point of View

Summary: Things that happened that you weren't aware of.

Word count: 9,163 words

A/N: Thank you for being so patient with me. I struggled with this chapter due to its nature. I had to further dive into Bruce and Dick's character that I wasn't too familiar with.2020 was a very tough year for me. I lost lots, learned lots. And I thought that the quarantine would mean I would write more. But I was wrong. Life hit me hard, and I stopped doing a lot of things I used to enjoy.Despite being virtually absent last year, you guys stuck by me anyway. Thank you. I love you all for that.Special thanks to my two beta readers. You know who you are. Here it goes.

(i recommend you guys read previous chapters to refresh coz I had to lol)

Ao3

Masterlist

The roles that people played were false- a mere necessity for their career or survival. Everyone was playing a role, whether it was of their own accord or not.

Bruce Wayne was a role- superficial, fake, yet vital to Gotham. Batman, on the other hand, was a completely different role, born out of exigence and a sense of justice.

Dick Grayson, however, genuinely enjoyed playing his role.

Nightwing felt right to him. Being a police officer felt right to him. And especially, if not ultimately, being an older brother.

He listened to the dial tone of his phone, which rung for a few seconds before you finally picked up.

“Hey,” Dick heard your voice, the usual chirp absent that day.

Dick frowned to himself. Bruce was right about you being troubled after all.

“Hey, sis!” he forced the concern out of his voice. “You busy?”

“Nah, I’m just going over some old case files. What’s up?”

Dick leaned back into his sofa. Aside from the traffic blaring outside, the silence in his apartment made it easier for him to concentrate on analysing your speech patterns.

“Can’t I call just to ask how you’re doing?” he teased, easing into the conversation.

Everyone had always told him how he was natural at talking.

“You already called last week…”

Dick smiled to himself. He could already picture your narrowed eyes regarding him with suspicion.

It was good that you were always on your feet, but it was becoming borderline unhealthy. It reminded him of Jason and how he was always so guarded .

He pushed the memory away.

“I can’t call you again?” he rolled his eyes at no one.

“Bruce put you up to this,” you accused.

That’s because he’s worried about you, kid.

If only you knew how much Bruce had changed for you. Dick was glad that you were being loved by Bruce, yet he still couldn't help but feel slightly bitter that he never got that kind of treatment from his father- not the same treatment he gave you.

But he would rather die than admit his selfish thoughts to anyone.

“Yeah,” he conceded, “He was worried about you after last night.”

“I’m fine, Dick,” you insisted.

How many times has he heard those very same words from Jason?

“Well, if you’re not, then you can talk to me,” he offered.

A short pause.

Your response would be what differentiated you from his late brother.

“Actually, yeah,” you admitted.

There it was. No matter how stupid he knew it was for even comparing the two of you, he found that he always had to remind himself not to.

“How did you deal with it? Did it affect you?”

Dick told you his own experience with gore and dead bodies, how he overcame it, how he coped. There was silence after, and he just somehow knew what you were going to ask next.

“How did, uh, he deal with it?”

Your voice came in a whisper, hesitation evidently clear.

Dick was expecting it, but his heart still sank. He knew how everyone acted when Jason was brought up in conversation- he was guilty of reacting as well. He also knew how you were smart enough to avoid that topic.

It had been years. They should all have moved on, because Dick knew that they were also hurting you.

“He came to me as well.” Dick recalled Jason’s hesitant voice over the phone, never directly saying what was wrong, just rambling about things other than what was really going on in his head.

“Then he gradually called less and less when he learned how to deal with it himself.”

The day Dick noticed it, he was happy for Jason, but a small part of him was saddened that his little brother no longer needed him.

“I’ll have to look for that cognitive therapy, then. Thank you for calling, Dick. Talking to you helped.”

Did it really? He noticed your voice had changed again. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone on about Jason like that.

“No problem, kid. Call me if you need to talk, okay?”

The familiar beep left him isolated with his thoughts, wondering if you would trail in Jason's footsteps.

When will the day come when you eventually stop calling altogether?

***

He felt indebted to his city- the city he loved. The city he hated. The city that robbed him of his childhood.

He felt indebted to his family- the family he would give up everything for, the family he couldn’t stop hurting.

And he was sorry. God, he was sorry.

Sorry for everything he’s said and done- or didn’t do. But he still couldn’t stop. Because he didn’t know how.

Yet, no matter how much he claimed to love his family, the problem with Bruce Wayne was that he always expected them to be the people he wanted them to be.

Never like himself, though. No, he would never want them to turn out like him.

“That’s an order. Stay-”

The silence that followed the click in his ear represented the first time you had ever disobeyed a direct order.

It was a little late on your side. Dick and Jason had begun to disobey him within their first six months in uniform. But you had always been obedient- which made it easier for Bruce to trust you in the field.

This first time came as an unexpected and unwelcome surprise. And Bruce was…

Disappointed.

He grit his teeth when he saw you on the ground with the warehouse burning behind you. If he had just been a few seconds late, would you be in the fire, too?

“I almost had him.”

Bruce didn’t miss the wince of pain as you got up to your feet.

He had heard those exact words before countless times from J- no.

Bruce shoved that thought away.

“He would have gotten away, and we wouldn’t have known who it was that did this,” you argued, brows drawn together in a frown, mouth downturned. Your respiratory rate was high, and you were having trouble breathing.

When did you grow so tall? So confident?

Bruce silently pointed to the active security camera he noticed the minute he arrived and saw your expression fall- only for a second.

“I still think I made the right decision,” you insisted.

“You disobeyed a direct order.” He hated his own voice. The way he spoke sounded too militant.

“I acted how I saw fit,” you continued, “You always say to follow my instincts-”

“Not if your instincts contradict my orders.” He regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. He thought he had changed. But no, Bruce was still a dictator.

“Wow. Just- wow.”

He could see the little twitches of annoyance within the disbelief on your face. He understood it completely.

You were walking away, clutching onto your side and weakly limping to your bike, adamant on not seeking his help.

He hated seeing you injured, in pain. It was his fault. If only he was faster, he could have stopped Red Hood from beating you up. If only he predicted it sooner, if only-

“I’ll be heading back now.”

He missed what you had said before that.

“Robin,” Bruce forced out, “Have Alfred check your injuries.”

He should have been there.

When you drove away, he lingered at the crime scene.

Bruce flipped a switch in his helmet, and his lense changed. Non-organic material lighted up bright white. He noticed a fractured piece of shrapnel lying on the ground, less than a centimeter long.

He picked it up and placed it into a test tube from his belt. Switching his view to normal, he saw that it was red, maybe made from fiberglass. He could only deduce that it was a piece of Red Hood’s helmet.

Despite Bruce’s frustrations at you for disobeying him, he felt a swell of pride. You probably landed a hit hard enough to crack the helmet just a little bit that you yourself probably didn’t even realise it.

He shone a UV light on it. A small portion of it glowed.

Bruce had always been numb when he played investigator so that he would remain impartial and objective. That was true justice.

But when he pocketed the evidence and sped to the Batmobile, he felt something he had never felt before.

Against all logic and rationality, he found himself dreading to uncover who the blood belonged to.

***

Bruce never drank his sorrows away. It was dangerous, too easy to develop an addiction to. He could have easily drowned in alcohol at any given chance, like when he thought of his parents, or when he thought-no, knew- he wasn’t enough.

But no, he only restricted his drinking for leisurely activities. He was disciplined. It was the reason why he was who he was.

However, in that moment, staring at the results of the DNA analysis after hours of anxious waiting, he wished he allowed himself a drink.

Not because he was distraught, not because he was in grief- but because he just didn’t know what to feel.

It wasn’t numbness. It was just plain confusion, an internal tornado of emotions whirling inside him all at once.

Footsteps.

He tapped on a button once, immediately closing the window of the test results displayed on the screen.

Composing himself, he clicked on another pending case to pretend he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown. It’s just another role.

“Master Bruce.”

Why was he still up at this hour?

“Yes, Alfred,” he turned to meet the butler’s tired eyes- just as tired as his own.

Tired because of him.

Alfred was always up because of him. Because Bruce was a disease, constantly burdening others, dragging them down, keeping them up at night.

“I made some sandwiches. They’re light. Please do eat them,” he set the tray on the cluttered desk, simply pushing aside the numerous stacks of papers.

“Go to bed, Alfred,” he told him. Alfred was too old to be up at this hour. And whose fault is that?

“In due time,” he responded calmly, “What of the blood results, if I may ask?”

“Inconclusive,” Bruce lied.

“I see.”

Suspicion shrouded Alfred’s voice.

“How are her injuries?” Bruce asked, the pain finally creeping in, seeping into his bones.

“I commend you for asking about your daughter’s injuries after only four whole hours of staring at the screen, Master Bruce. You would definitely win father of the year.”

“I was occupied,” he sighed, “Please.”

“Her injuries are only superficial,” Alfred said, “Surface contusions at most.”

He still hurt her.

“Thank you, Alfred. Now go to bed.”

“It was only a little more than two decades ago when I was telling you the same,” he grumbled away.

Bruce made sure Alfred was gone before pulling up the results on the screen again, the glaring ‘MATCH’ sign staring angrily back at him as if it were shouting at Bruce, yelling in rage.

And Bruce understood completely. He had failed Jason Todd. He had betrayed him. And now he was back, vengeful, and full of resentment.

But that didn’t matter to Bruce.

Because despite it all, his son was alive.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

***

What did my son do to my daughter?

Bruce watched in horror as you lay unconscious on the hospital bed, hooked to the IV bag. He couldn’t stop staring at the bruises littering your neck.

Bruises that were far too small and evenly shaped to be the effect of a mere throttling.

He knew how the people close to him viewed him. He knew they thought he was strong, unforgiving, cold, emotionless. Especially when they put him side by side with Clark.

But he forced himself to be those things, because if he didn’t, he would have broken down years ago.

He was used to it. The pain. The darkness.

But this time, he felt like he was being crushed.

He felt like he was hanging on by a thread- no. A delicate strand of thin, brittle hair.

“It’s okay, doctor,” you had said, “I know what you’re going to ask me. No, my genitalia does not hurt. He didn’t do anything to me.”

He felt a wave of relief crash over him.

Jason wasn’t that far gone, then.

But as Bruce looked at your neck again, he still couldn’t help but feel nausea crawling into his core.

He still touched her.

Jim left after his questioning, and you drifted to sleep. He went over to you and looked down at your face, taking everything in.

Since when did you look so mature? When did you get so beautiful?

He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Even in sleep you had your eyebrows tugged down, as if you were angry that you had to go to bed. He didn’t know why he never saw that small part of you that shouted rebellion despite you almost always following his orders.

He realised that when he watched you sleep, you looked a bit like- no. Don’t ever compare the two.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to your forehead, trying to convey all of his feelings to you.

He was sorry. So god damned sorry for dragging you into this, for hurting you, for pulling you down to the depths with him.

Hoping you didn’t feel the teardrop that fell to your forehead, he quickly wiped it away before leaving for his press statement.

***

“Master Bruce, please!”

Another crash.

Alfred’s plea snapped him out of his blinding fury, his crushing pain.

He was standing at the hallway near the Manor entrance, glass and broken wood shattered at his feet, feeling the walls closing in and narrowing as Alfred looked at him in alarm.

“I-I’m sorry, Alfred. I-” he stammered, feeling like the small, helpless boy who watched his parents die before him.

He remembered the time when he was little, only a couple of months after the tragedy. He had done the exact same thing, taking out his anger and anguish by destroying things, triggered by something he had long forgotten about.

At that time, Alfred had held him closely in his arms as he stained the butler’s suit with his snot and tears. Again, a burden to the man who raised him.

This time, he refused the old man’s offer of comfort, walking past to descend to the cold darkness of the cave he was so familiar with.

Bruce didn’t usually drink his sorrows away, but this time, he did.

***

Dick wasn’t a good person. He was far from it.

Case in example, it was the first time he saw you after your kidnapping.

He meant to come sooner, he really did. But he was just so busy in Bludhaven, he couldn’t spare any time to rush over the moment he heard his sister was hurt. He tried to justify it in his head by thinking that you were probably handling it fine.

But he was just trying to make himself feel better.

What a great brother he was.

“So, why are you obsessing over violent crimes?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

Desensitization was one thing when you worked in that field, but obsession was a whole other problem. And he didn’t want to see his sister walk down that path.

“A lunatic just kidnapped me a couple weeks ago, Dick, maybe this is my coping mechanism,” you huffed, giving him your signature eye roll.

A lot of things start with just a coping mechanism, kid.

Dick knew it about it all too well. The people he brought in on an almost daily basis, high as kites. The accident last week on the highway at three in the morning, two innocent lives taken because of a drunk man who had started drinking three years ago to cope with his mother’s loss.

The man downstairs in the cold cave, who was just a little boy when his parents died, now living with the trauma while going out night after night to beat up criminals, sleeping only three hours a day at most.

“I don’t want your pity, Dick,” you huffed, “I’m fine.”

Yeah, you were. And that was what worried Dick the most.

“I know you are,” he tried to smile, “Which is why I don’t think this is your coping mechanism.”

You talked to Dick about Red Hood, sharing your concerns about him. This is what made you, you. Opening up to him, offering your thoughts and feelings. It was something he never had with Bruce or Jason. The both of them were similar in that sense.

“He won’t tell me either,” Dick huffed, “It’s always been like that with him. No matter how hard I try to get closer to him, sometimes it feels like he’s getting further away.”

It was the same with Jason as well. Did everyone he cared about just end up running away from him?

“I can relate to that,” you sighed.

“But I have a feeling that he will tell you eventually,” Dick tried to comfort you, “It seems too important not to.”

Dick knew better. Bruce had always excluded information from him, whether it was important or not.

“And,” Dick hurriedly tried to change the subject, “I heard from Alfred that you’re not talking to Bruce. May I ask why?”

“So that’s why you’re here,” you eyed him suspiciously. . “I came to check up on you,” he stated, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come here right after, but my little sister did just get kidnapped.”

When are you going to stop putting your guard up around me, kid?

“I told you, I’m fine,” you insisted.

“Then you’re fine enough to tell me why you haven’t been talking to Bruce,” Dick pushed, “I won’t judge. I’ve had my fair share of cold shoulders and fights with him too. I know first hand how frustrating he can be. So come on, tell.”

He saw you hesitate for just a moment, before conceding.

“We fought,” you began, “It was when I got back from the hospital. He wouldn’t tell me who Red Hood was. And he- he called me ‘Jason’.”

Ah, fucking hell, Bruce.

“Jesus,” he whispered, “What did he say exactly?”

“‘Back down, Jason’,” your voice cracked.

Dick saw the way Bruce spiraled after Jason’s death, and he would never tell you this, but deep down he was against Bruce adopting you so soon after. He thought that Bruce was using you to fill up the hole he too felt with Jason’s absence.

You were so like him, yet so different. Still, Bruce must have been really distracted if he could slip as badly as he did.

Dick would ask later.

“Now that’s something I haven’t heard in years,” Dick chuckled humorlessly.

Jason arguing with Bruce about using excessive force. Jason sneaking out to go for patrols whenever he was grounded. Hell, even Jason stealing whiskey from the cabinet at the age of fifteen.

He could still remember it so clearly. Jason with his dark hair poking into his eyes that were full of fury, cheeks puffed up and red as he pouted angrily at Bruce for making him stay at the Manor on nights Bruce insisted on going alone.

Dick tried to shove the past away. He knew he was making you even sadder.

“Has Bruce made any attempts to reconcile?” Dick remembered the conversation he was having with you.

“Yeah, but I’m still mad at him,” you pouted.

“And you have every right to be,” Dick nodded, “But Bruce, well, you know Bruce. He keeps these things to himself, but obviously he’s still hurting.”

You have know idea how much he’s hurting, Little Wing.

You avoided Dick’s eyes, looking down at your fumbling thumbs as the room became silent.

“I’m seeing someone,” you changed the subject.

“You are?”

Interesting.

“Yeah,” you blushed, “It’s still very new, and we’re not official yet or anything. But we’re definitely testing the waters.”

“That’s great,” Dick grinned, “Who is he? Tell me the deets. Spill the tea.”

He sort of loved gossip. It wasn’t a secret.

“I met him in the library a while back,” you excitedly said, “We exchanged numbers. Started texting, meeting up from time to time. He’s really cute.”

Ah, young love. What Dick would give to be at that age again.

“I bet he is,” Dick teased.

“What’s with that face?” you laughed, “He is! He’s slightly older, and he’s got this sexy bad boy look, you know?”

“I thought you liked the nerdy types?” Dick responded. He saw a picture of you and your classmates on your Instagram. Typical prep school kids.

“I never had a type, you ass!” . “You’re right. I thought you were completely uninterested in boys,” he wondered out loud, “Is he nice, at least?”

“Yeah he is,” you smiled to yourself, “He didn’t know I was Wayne until 2 weeks ago. Before that, we were mainly texting. Now we’re meeting up more. I feel like I can be myself with him. I don’t know, there’s just something about him that makes me trust him.”

So you still have some of your walls up with me, but you trust a stranger? Who is this guy?

“I’m not going to tell him anything!” you quickly added, “I’m not stupid. I know I shouldn’t trust someone I just met. It’s not about the confidential stuff. It’s the little things like how I feel, and my problems, and just- stuff, you know?”

The thought didn’t even cross his mind. Dick trusted you enough with their secret, just as how Bruce did.

“I get it,” Dick tried to rationalise, “You don’t know what it is about the person, but you feel like the two of you just click, am I right?”

It had been like that with Barbara. It had been like that with Kory.

Now Dick was alone, and deep down he knew that they saw him as how he truly was. Selfish.

“Exactly,” you smiled, “Been with anyone like that before?”

“One or two,” he brushed it off, “People like that- whom you just click with- they’re hard to come by. You should see where this leads. Who knows, maybe he’s one of those that would stick around, huh?”

What he would give to have at least one person who would stick with him.

After he met with Gordon, Dick went to the cave to see Bruce who was, of course, facing the computers.

“I know what you’re going to say,” his father’s voice echoed without even turning to look at him.

“Then you know how much you’ve hurt her?” he crossed his arms.

Bruce did turn around to face him, and Dick suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

He knew that Bruce hardly ever slept, but this was different. He looked disheveled, his complexion pale, his eyes more bloodshot and the dark circles even more prominent.

Alfred did say how badly Bruce took the kidnapping, finding him passed out on the cave floor with an empty bottle of scotch in his hand, but he thought that Bruce would have gotten himself together by now. It was surprising to see him that way, and Dick felt… Uncomfortable.

Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just the kidnapping, nor his fight with you.

“You found out something,” Dick narrowed his eyes, “Something important. What is it?”

He caught a flash of guilt in Bruce’s eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Bruce,” Dick groaned, “This is why you keep on hurting her.”

Hurting us.

“I’m protecting everyone.”

“You can’t use that excuse with me anymore,” he sighed, “I don’t need your protection. So tell me.”

“No.”

That was his final word, and he knew that Bruce would never budge.

“Fine,” he let out a breath, “Did you know that she’s seeing someone?”

Bruce frowned.

Which made Dick frown. Since when did Bruce miss things? What the fuck was going on with him?

“Name?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. And no, don’t you dare,” Dick pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Do not do a background check on him. She deserves privacy. Hell, don’t even bring it up. You have no right to go poking into her relationships.”

Dick was being defensive, but that was because he was trying to convince himself as well, which was why he didn’t ask you for a name. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“I wasn’t going to,” Bruce reassured, “She… She deserves a life. A normal life. Not this- not-”

Dick knew then he had to leave, because Bruce’s voice breaking meant he was far from okay, and he knew that Bruce hated to show his vulnerability to anyone.

“Bruce,” Dick said, this time softly, “You’re not alone, you know. I’ve been with you since the beginning, and I’m still with you now.”

And with that, Bruce turned his back towards him again, silently going back to his goddamned computers.

“He’s been that way ever since the kidnapping,” Alfred informed him when he walked up to the manor.

“I don’t think it’s just the kidnapping, Alf,” he frowned at the butler, “There’s something more to it. Did he figure out who Red Hood is?”

“Perhaps,” Alfred pursed his lips, “But he refuses to tell me.”

“That means we know him personally,” Dick theorised, “Who the hell could it be that he’s so adamant on keeping it a secret?”

“I do not know Master Dick, but it can’t be anyone good if he’s got Master Bruce drinking during the day.”

***

Bruce knew that he was wrong to call you by his dead son’s name.

But his dead son was supposed to stay dead instead of haunting him with that glaring red bat across his chest, and having that thought in his head all the time, he slipped up.

He prided himself with his contingency plans and detective skills and preparations, but no amount of time could ever prepare him for when he found out his dead son had sexually assaulted his daughter.

You seemed to have dealt with it surprisingly well, exceeding his expectations. In fact, Bruce thought it was a bit odd that you weren’t as affected by it.

And then he saw it.

He saw what he thought was the internalized anger you felt finally bursting through the seams of your tightly lidded emotions.

And he wasn’t prepared for it.

Bruce didn’t think you had it in you, or else he would never have made you Robin.

But there you were on the ground, beating a man beyond recognition.

He couldn’t dread this moment because he never saw it coming. Not from you. Never from you.

He hurriedly ripped you off the man, flinging you away with force.

Pulse was present, but weak. Flail chest. It took him only a few seconds to observe the damage you did to the man’s face. It didn’t look good.

“Stay back,” he growled at you when you came close.

He couldn’t look at you. He didn’t want to.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he heard you whisper.

“Call an ambulance,” he ordered.

There was no other choice. He had to take the fall for you.

“NOW!” he snarled at you again. In the background, you were on the phone, but Bruce’s thoughts were elsewhere, calculating what needs to be done.

You moved-

“Leave. I’ll deal with this.” You needed to go. You couldn’t be here when the ambulance and police arrived.

“Batman-”

“I said leave,” he snapped. He couldn’t even hear your voice.

He waited for the ambulance to come before leaving, making sure they saw him escape. Making sure he would be the one the media would attack.

And while he drove back to the Cave, he decided to give his son a call.

“Bruce?”

“Dick,” he sighed. He knew he had always been unfair to his eldest, giving him so much pressure to perform, pushing him to be his best- and ultimately away. He knew that he never showed it, but he was proud of Dick. He always had been from the very beginning.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t a surprise that Dick picked up immediately that something was wrong. If it wasn’t for the fact that calling him out of the blue was what gave it away, Bruce himself trained Dick.

“She- she crossed the line tonight,” he tried to explain, “Jerome Miller. She attacked him. The damage she’s done to him is irreversible. I suspect he will be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.”

“Jesus,” Dick breathed from over the line, “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I wasn’t there,” he grit. He thought he could trust you.

But deep down Bruce knew that it was all his fault after all. Who was he to act so righteous when he was the reason your parents died?

“I don’t know if she’ll talk to me, Bruce,” Dick sighed, “Not about something like this. She’s probably beating herself up over this already.”

“As she should.”

“Bruce.”

“Please,” Bruce asked, “I’m worried. She isn’t herself and I can’t blame her for it, but the chances of her talking to you are much higher than if I were to try.”

“I’ll try,” Dick agreed.

“Report to me after.”

“Bruce, we’ve talked about this,” Dick grumbled, “I am under no obligation to report to you. I’m doing this for her. Not you.”

He was trying not to go back to the man he was before, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

They’re your children, not your soldiers.

He had to remind himself time and time again. It was easier to be just a father to you as compared to Dick and Jason, yet even then he made slips.

“I know,” he apologised. “Thank you.”

Click.

And then Bruce was alone again.

***

Bruce watched you from the corner of his eye when you came back. He noticed that you had put more effort into dressing up when you left the house that day.

There was a slight bounce to your step and a small smile that played on your lips.

Dick was right after all. There was someone you were seeing.

But no, he couldn’t look into it. In fact, it would be hypocritical of him if he did. Dick had many girlfriends and flings, and Bruce didn’t want to know about any of them. Mainly because Dick was his first, and the thought of a boy he raised maturing and having relationships made him feel confused about parenthood.

Not that many of them lasted too long anyway.

Jason was a little different. While Dick had girls lining up after him all the time, Jason was much more subtle about the girls he liked, and that made Bruce more curious- but not enough to investigate.

He thought about when Barbara had caught Jason looking at her, making him turn red. He wondered if Jason would like you.

A tight squeeze in his chest.

He didn’t let his mind linger there.

Bruce felt obligated to protect you, which tempted him to investigate the boy you were seeing. It could be a trap, it could be someone using you for fame and money, or something even more sinister. Hell, it could be Jason himself after that stunt he pulled off.

But there was no evidence, and Bruce wanted to be a father to you this time instead of Batman the mentor. So Bruce would have to trust you on this one.

***

There was something holding Bruce back from telling everyone the truth about Jason.

And because he is who he is, Bruce knew what it was.

Guilt. He blamed himself for what had happened, and telling others about it meant owning up to his mistakes. Bruce never ran away from his fears and feelings despite what others might think. On the contrary, he held to them very strongly, using them as a motivation to fight head on.

This time, though, he felt more self destructive- the worst he had ever felt since he carried Jason’s corpse from the rubble- and so he tried to delay the inevitable.

But time was running out. He had enough time to wallow in self pity. It was time to pull himself together, and the first step began with Alfred.

The Cave was colder than usual that night, air thin and darker despite the illumination he had provided. Bruce was slumped in his usual wheeled chair, cowl resting on the desk after patrol, the weight of his suit almost crushing him in his weakened mental state.

“Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Please, take a seat. I have something to tell you.”

“I assume this is about the identity of one criminal who has been terrorizing your daughter?” Alfred retorted, sitting down anyway.

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “This… This won’t be easy, Alfred. I suggest you prepare for the worst.”

“And the worst being..?”

Bruce wheeled himself closer to the butler, leaning forward. “It’s Jason.”

Alfred merely blinked. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid my ears have caught up to my age. I must have misheard you, because for a moment, I thought you said that Red Hood is Jason.”

“You didn’t mishear me, Alfred. It’s him.”

Bruce saw the confusion in Alfred’s eyes, the frantic search for reason. “Our Jason? Jason Todd?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

And then, Bruce felt it. The pain he had been suffering with for weeks spreading to the man who raised him. Alfred clutched his chest with one hand, the other clenching tightly over the armrest of his chair, his breathing quickened.

“Impossible,” he whispered, “Jason died. How?”

“There was an event regarding The League and Superboy punching reality. I won’t get into details, but I suspect that was what caused the initial resurrection. The restoration, however. We know of someone who has been continuously restored time and time again.”

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” Alfred concluded, “But why? Why on Earth would he restore Jason?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce frowned, “But it is an almost perfect revenge plan. I would like to entertain the idea that he has brainwashed Jason into thinking we are the enemy, but I can’t put it past him to develop a hatred for me. I… betrayed him.”

“Master Bruce, this is not your fault,” Alfred rose to his feet, “If it is indeed Jason, we can still help. I have faith in the boy.”

“Me too, Alfred. Me too.”

Bruce didn’t miss the sob that echoed faintly through the cave when Alfred ascended back up.

***

As if in slow motion, he saw every change of emotion on Dick’s face. The way he blinked once in confusion, the surprise approaching as he widened his eyes, and then his eyebrows stitching together in a deep frown, his lips downturning and nose flaring in anger.

Bruce saw the punch coming, but he did not do anything to counter it. Gladly, he took the right hook Dick gave him, appreciating the sting that radiated from his cheekbone to his jaw.

“How long have you known?” his son shook in anger.

“Dick-”

“HOW LONG, BRUCE?!” Dick roared, fists clenched, voice echoing in the cave.

“Since the night he blew up the warehouse,” Bruce replied.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dick ran his fingers through his hair, “Jesus, Bruce. That was over a month ago.”

“I know.”

“We-” he choked on his words, “We deserved to know.”

“I know.”

“So why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!” he slammed his fists on the desk. Bruce caught a few drops of tears that fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce apologised, and meant it. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

“You’re sorry?” Dick looked at him with eyes far too cold than he knew, “He was my brother, Bruce. He told me things he never told anyone else. We shared secrets and jokes. We went to the same diner once a week to catch up. He asked for my help and I asked for his. And then he died. Just like that, because you couldn’t keep him on a leash. And now he’s back, and you knew it was him, and you’re just sorry?”

Dick’s eyes were wet and red, and filled with contempt. Bruce couldn’t blame him. He hated himself, too.

“Does she know?” he whispered, “Does she know that the man who attacked her is your son, and is my brother?”

Like always, he pushed the pain away efficiently, logically, objectively.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I told her this afternoon.”

“And she’s not angry?”

“If she was, she did not show it,” Bruce described, “In fact, she looked… Worried.”

“Of fucking course she would be worried,” he snarled, “She’s worried that she’s going to be irrelevant to you now the dead Robin is back.”

“She’s not,” Bruce growled at that, “She’s not his replacement. She never was.”

“Does she know that, Bruce?” Dick snickered, “Did you finally get over yourself and tell her that? Because the last fucking time I spoke to her, you called her Jason.”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. He was good at smiling at the cameras and making speeches and charming an audience, but he was never good with words, real words that described his true feelings to the ones he cared for the most.

“I’m sorry,” he simply said, now numb to everything throughout years and years of practice. “I promise, I will bring him back. Will you help me?”

“What can I do that you can’t?” Dick scoffed.

“You knew him, Dick,” Bruce said, “You knew him in ways I never did. I can predict his movements, but to accurately guess what his motivations are- you knew him better than I did.”

“Fine,” Dick conceded, “But I’m not forgiving you for this, Bruce. I swear, you’re going to pay for all the secrets you’ve kept from us, be it by my hand or someone else’s.”

***

“Did you know that your daughter went out last night to see a boy while we were patrolling?” Dick brought up.

He was looking at Bruce’s back, as he always was.

Bruce was on the computers, going through hours upon hours of security footage and traffic cams for Red Hood- for Jason.

It was difficult for him to put the two together. Jason had always been his little brother. Young, naive, inexperienced. And now that same person was the leader of the underground.

It was definitely difficult.

“Alfred mentioned she went out, but I didn’t know it was to meet a boy,” Bruce replied without glancing his way.

“Well, she lied to me about it at first,” Dick sank in a chair, looking at his nails. “Got pretty defensive when I brought it up. Even tried to deflect by using Jason against me.”

Dick knew you meant to hurt him with your words, and it worked.

He was definitely surprised that you would stoop that low because he always saw you as a sweet, kind girl.

People change. That’s what happens when you stick with Batman.

But Dick didn’t expect you to change so fast.

“She… used Jason against you?”

Bruce finally turned towards him, the ever constant frown a little bit deeper that moment.

“Yeah,” Dick straightened, “It was the first time she’s ever spoken to me that way.”

“What did she say exactly?”

“That I was distracting myself by using humor as a coping mechanism, and that I should come to terms with the fact that it was my brother who kidnapped and sexually assaulted her,” he repeated bitterly.

“What did you say to her that she responded that way?” Bruce asked.

“I was just making fun of her boyfriend,” Dick shrugged, “Why? Do you think she’s hiding something?”

At first, Dick thought that you were genuinely angry at the both of them because you were right- Jason did kidnap you. Jason did do those things to you. And Jason was supposed to be under both Bruce and Dick’s responsibility.

Dick didn’t blame you for it, because he would have probably been angry if the situation was reversed.

It was one of the mistakes he always made as Robin when Bruce was teaching him how to accurately deduce by reading people. Never assume that someone’s motivations would be the same as your own.

“She hid that she has… someone from me. There must be a reason why.”

“Or she knows how you are and would rather not have your nose in her business, Bruce. She did find out about that tracker you put in her necklace. How did she even react to it?”

Bruce had done the same with both Dick and Jason while they were Robin, though it didn’t come disguised as a pretty, shiny piece of metal.

On the contrary, during Dick’s Robin days, Bruce had hid it behind his third molar while he was unconscious. He only found out after a year, when he was held hostage by a mercenary who wanted to use him to lure Batman. Said mercenary had detected the tracking device and pulled it out along with the tooth.

It made him increasingly more hostile towards Batman and his never ending need for control, but at least it saved him a trip to the dentist.

From what Dick knew, Jason died with his tracker on him.

Bruce had said that it was all done in the name of safety.

But would you tell Jason the same thing now?

“I apologised and never replaced the one Red Hood damaged. I thought that would have been sufficient for her to trust me again.”

Dick let out a bark of laughter at that, but it was void of any humor. “Only you would think that not replacing her damn tracker would make her trust you. No wonder she hasn’t told you anything.”

It was probably best not to mention that you were now also sexually active.

“Do you think she’s hiding something important?” Bruce asked.

“Are you actually asking for my opinion?” Dick smirked, “No, but it’s too soon to tell, anyway. Relax, Bruce. It’s like you forgot what it was like to be young and in love.”

That was obviously a joke. Bruce grew out of his childhood the moment he saw his parents getting killed in that alley.

As for being in love, did Bruce ever allow himself that?

***

“What did you say she called herself?” Nightwing asked softly.

The poor girl was scared out of her mind to the point where Dick found it difficult to extract important information from her ramblings.

Well, that’s what happens when someone makes you kill a person.

It was difficult, so difficult, to face the fact that it was Jason behind all of that.

“I t-think, V,” the witness- Elena- stuttered. “She with him. But try to stop him.”

Behind him, he felt Batman pause. He was walking around the club and analysing evidence while listening to the conversation.

“She tried to stop him? Him as in Red Hood?” Dick frowned.

“Yes,” Elena looked down and rubbed her arms.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but,” Dick tried, “You told me they were partners.”

“Yes, but she try to stop him,” she repeated, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Dick offered a smile, “Thank you very much. You’ve been a huge help.”

“Am I going to prison?” she looked at him with big, wet eyes.

“We’ll make sure you won’t,” Dick assured, “You’ll get the best defense team in Gotham.”

“You can do that?” she asked, hope in her voice.

“It’s the least we could do,” Dick answered, a sad smile playing on his lips.

He’s our responsibility.

“Thank you,” she gave a watery laugh, “Even prison better than with him, I want to be free.”

Dick heard footsteps approaching. As he turned around, Gordon entered the crime scene, followed by his team.

“Of course you’re here first,” he sighed at Batman.

“Gordon.”

“You might have to speak to the police again, okay?” Dick told Elena who was suddenly nervous again by the presence of so many people. “I’ll make sure they know you’re innocent. Gordon is the only one you can trust, okay?”

She nodded, her gaze turning downwards.

“Gordon,” he approached the aging man. He was used to talking with Gordon in Batman’s stead, even when he was Robin, and remembered feeling proud of himself whenever he finished speaking to Gordon regarding cases without Batman having to add anything.

“Nightwing,” he blinked, “It’s been a while.”

“Desperate times calls for desperate backups,” he grinned, “Anyway, the girl. She’s a victim of Victor Ibenescu’s human trafficking trade. Romanian, only thirteen when she was kidnapped. She was forced to shoot Victor by Red Hood.”

“This Red Hood likes his poetic justice,” Gordon snickered.

“It’s still first degree murder, or at least, that’s how the law would make it seem,” Dick reminded him, “But I assure you she’s innocent. Red Hood threatened to kill and rape her if she didn’t shoot.”

That was a lie, on both his part and Elena’s. Judging by the way she averted her eyes and touched her own arm, Dick could tell that she wasn’t telling the whole truth about being threatened by Red Hood- but he also knew that he couldn’t expose her and get into more trouble.

He wanted to let out a tired sigh, but that would give him away in front of Gordon and the other officers. He still needed to maintain his air of hopefulness, and he couldn’t seem like he was troubled by his thoughts.

Time to meet Bruce back at the cave and watch the surveillance footage.

***

“He’s got a partner now,” Dick voiced out his findings, “Since when did Red Hood partner up?”

Bruce’s frown was deep as he stared at the screen.

Dick pursed his lips. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Whether this is Red Hood or Jason?” Bruce hummed, “This definitely does not seem like anything Red Hood would do. He’s always tried to separate himself from others because it furthers his authoritarian agenda. He does not get friendly with people because people are disposable to him.”

“So you think this is Jason, then?” Dick concluded, “Well, Jason never had much of a problem working with others in the past, and he made some friends. He wasn’t the type to be hostile to people.”

“He did have trust issues,” Bruce pointed out, “At the very beginning.”

“Yes, and he kept a lot of things to himself,” Dick agreed, “But he did have friends.”

“Special friends,” Bruce added, “Friends who gained his respect and trust. So the question is- who is this girl and how did she manage to gain his trust?”

“Hey, play it back again,” Dick said, “Those moves.”

Bruce played the security tape, showing the mysterious girl and Red Hood taking down Victor’s men.

“Arnis,” Bruce pointed out.

“It’s a little different.”

“She has incorporated silat in as well. Low stance,” Bruce observed. “She’s skilled, but not polished. It could be anyone.”

There was something familiar about the girl that Dick couldn’t pinpoint. Dick usually had strong intuition- a gut feeling that enabled him to know which facts to focus on during an investigation, or a strong ability to see through people.

But the problem was that it wasn’t solid proof or evidence, something Batman heavily focused on. It was a gut feeling that told him he knew who the girl was.

“Do you think it’s-” he broke off without completing his sentence. There was nothing to back his claims.

“She has no reason or motive to work with Jason,” Bruce shot the idea down, “He’s hurt her. And… She wouldn’t betray me like that.”

“She’s been keeping secrets, Bruce,” Dick reminded, hating the fact that this time it was him who was suspicious.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Because he never would have thought that Jason was capable of torture and murder, either.

Why didn’t he come to me?

“As you clearly pointed out prior to this,” Bruce grit, “She has her reasons as to why she’s keeping secrets. And it is most probably because of me. All of you kept secrets. But this time, I’d like to let her keep hers.”

It was sweet, seeing Bruce that way.

“Is it guilt?” Dick asked.

“It’s repentance.”

Dick hated playing the bad guy.

Because he wasn’t supposed to be. He was the one people looked up to for inspiration, he was the light to Batman’s darkness, he was the smiles and charms and laughter.

He wasn’t the one who would accuse his little sister of fraternizing with the- was Jason the enemy?

Shit. Jason had messed with his senses. Dick’s head was chaotic, his emotions causing him to tense up.

Was he wrong? Was he just like Bruce? Was he jumping to conclusions just because Alfred told him you were out? Should he investigate this Carter you said you were with?

No. I’m not Bruce.

And now, you were looking at him with angry eyes, betrayed and appalled by his accusation.

*** Large.

That was the first thing that came to Dick’s mind when he saw his little brother.

The last time Dick saw him, he was much shorter, and definitely not as bulky.

And the last time Dick saw Jason, he was giving him a hug goodbye, complaining that Dick had messed up his hair.

And now, Jason was aiming a gun at him.

The gunshot didn’t hurt nearly as much as the thought that Jason had indeed shot him. Did Jason hate him that much?

You’re almost as guilty as he is, Jason’s voice echoed in his head.

“Bruce,” he gasped in the comms, “I’m down. They got away.”

“I heard a gunshot,” the deep voice in his ear spoke.

“Yeah, Jason shot my leg,” Dick winced, “Didn’t hit bone but I think it nicked my artery.”

“There are children here,” Batman said, “I was right. He’s sabotaging the Powers’. Gordon should be here soon. You control your bleeding.”

Dick nodded to himself and took a deep breath before plunging his finger into the gunshot wound to keep himself from bleeding out.

***

“...suspects that the crime lord only known as Red Hood and an unidentified female were behind the home invasion. Maria and Joseph Powers were left in a gruesome state according to reports, but their only child Carrie Powers was unharmed. The authorities are not sure what Red Hood’s motive was, but more will be elaborated during Commissioner Gordon’s public address later this afternoon...”

Dick heard you close the door.

“You didn’t come home last night,” he lowered the volume of the television.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered.

Dick looked over at you. You seemed tired, eyes swollen and red from crying, wearing an oversized t-shirt that he didn’t recognize.

“I was at-”

“Carter’s?” he finished your sentence for you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sitting down next to him on the sofa.

Dick frowned to himself. Your arms were crossed, you were avoiding eye contact, your body was angled away from him.

“You heard about the Powers’?” he turned his gaze towards the television.

“I saw the news on the way here,” you monotoned.

You smelled like a different shampoo. It was familiar, but Dick couldn’t remember where he had smelled it before.

“So you know that-”

“Yes, Jason did it,” you said rigidly.

“Along with-”

“His partner.”

Ah, now he remembered the smell. Jason’s favorite shampoo. He used to make fun of him for choosing one that was called what it was called. He didn’t really care about it, Dick kept his hair soft and fluffy with multiple women’s hair products. He just liked to rile Jason up because he was so defensive about it.

And with that, Dick let out a long, disappointed sigh.

“Bruce is in the cave. I suggest that you think long and hard about what to tell him,” Dick offered you a soft smile, “But no matter what you choose to say, you’ll always be my sister, and I’ll always love you no matter what, okay?”

You gave him a look of shock, and then realised that he had figured it out.

“I’m sorry, Dick,” you lips trembled, your eyes started brimming with tears.

“No, kid. I’m sorry,” he replied, “Go.”

You nodded and left.

Despite being right all along, he didn’t feel any sense of achievement. Dick couldn’t help but partly blame himself. For being so absent, for being neglectful, for being a bad brother.

Dick wasn’t perfect, but like hell would he stop trying to be.

***

For years Bruce had tried to stop feeling guilty for being relieved whenever someone else takes care of a problem he couldn’t solve- especially when it involved murder.

Bruce had tried to take down the Powers for almost a decade, and everytime he got close, there was always another obstacle in the way. It was difficult to expose the rich and powerful without resorting to violence, without resorting to breaking his principles.

So Bruce was ready to stop himself from internally celebrating their deaths. This time, however, he wasn’t as pleased. Because this time, it was Jason who brutally murdered two people. Jason, who was supposed to be under his care and responsibility.

“Bruce?” he heard your timid, small voice from behind him. “I have to tell you something.”

And there it was.

Bruce turned around and looked straight at you, piercing your eyes with his own as he waited on your confession.

A minute passed.

“I’m V,” you struggled to speak, “I’ve been meeting up with Jason for a few months now. I didn’t know he was Red Hood until you told me. But when you did tell me, I chose to confront him and team up with him anyway.”

Bruce didn’t say anything.

“He- he’s not a bad person, Bruce,” you justified, “He’s just really hurt. He needs help.”

You were telling Bruce things he already knew.

“I- I fell in love with him,” you continued, “And I let my feelings cloud my judgement and betrayed your trust. At first I thought that he was onto something, that his… methods were better than yours. And I was angry that you kept secrets from me. But after last night- after what I saw- I couldn’t- I couldn’t stay.”

Bruce clenched his jaw.

He suspected it. Dick suspected it. But for your sake, the both of them chose to put their trust in you. He had tried so hard to change from his old ways. He learned his lesson with both Dick and Jason.

He didn’t want you to go through the same thing they did.

So, he chose to blindly trust you anyway, hoping that he wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” you were sobbing now, “I’m so sorry. Please, say something.”

After another minute of watching you break down in front of him, Bruce finally spoke up.

“Hang up your colors. You’re no longer my Robin.”

#Red Who #Red Hood x Reader #jason todd x reader

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legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

Text

Picture Perfect

AYO! its me back with more content for the second time this week while i ignore my other wips again. this is a lil gift for @queen-o-leen who i promised wholesome content for! I hope you like it!

Timinette/Timari Oneshot 1.9K words (not related to my other timari oneshots)

Summary:

“Tim spends a nice day in a park in Paris and takes a picture of a pretty girl.

He somehow gets an almost date out of it.”

no warnings this time. completely family-friendly. I know i surprise myself with this one too.

without further ado

He would be the last to admit that Jason was right and that time away was what he needed at this point in life but it can’t be ignored that, for the first time in possibly three years, Tim was having a wonderful day. He was having a wonderful week actually. After one too many unsuccessful cold cases and the simmering anxiety of off-world missions, his family, primarily Jason, for some reason, demanded that he take some time off and away from his unusual brand of normal. How that meant being sent across the Atlantic Ocean to Paris of all places, he wasn’t entirely sure. Alfred probably had a hand in that decision given that, as part of his forced vacation, Tim was not allowed to actually plan any of it. Him. Timothy Jackson Drake. The guy who stalked and manoeuvred his way into Batman’s house and team. The guy who tracked and found said man when the universe thought he was dead but was actually drifting through time. Yeah, Tim was not pleased about being led blind on his vacation.

At least Paris was a nice city. And he brought his camera. He figured he could use this time to get back into old hobbies and what better hobby to start up again in the city of love than photography? He’s taken pictures of every tourist attraction worth visiting by his second day and began to take candid shots of people and animals. Would Damian like the animal pictures? Maybe, if they came from someone who wasn’t Tim. Is he going to try and give them to him anyways? Absolutely not. He liked his liver where it is, thank you very much. They would serve as great bribing material however. But that’s a thought for another day.

Right now he was working on capturing what could possibly be described as the stereotypical outing with friends. He’s sitting along some bushes near the entrance of a park and staring at a group of teens his own age hanging around. He spots a brunette with thick curls of hair animatedly speaking with a guy in a vibrant cap. She’s waving a camera herself, and he appreciates her taste in equipment. Her eyes spark with fox-like mischief while the cap guy has a peaceful aura about him; like an old turtle. Next he sees a blonde, her hair is in a ridiculously high ponytail and she’s in a deep conversation with a red head off to the side of the whole group; her words are rushing out of her and she’s a buzzing bee with excitement. Another blond is in the area, but he sits in a broad patch of sun possibly napping with an open book on his chest. Very cat-like Tim supposes. He barely pays them more than a second of thought however. No.

His focus is on the quaint beauty directly in his line of sight. She’s poised up against the giant tree trunk with a sketchbook in her lap and pencils surrounding her. Her hair hangs by her shoulders in twintails and it’s a colour so dark it seems to absorb the shade of the tree. She’s scribbling furiously on the page before her and her tongue is slightly peaking out to the side. Her forehead is creased with stress lines and her shoulders hunch slightly over her frame. She’s the vision of deep concentration and dedication and Tim would be a fool not to capture her. He’s gotten wide shots of her companions but now he wants to focus on her.

Looking through the lens of his camera he zooms in on her profile. When his camera focuses, he spots a constellation of freckles across her cheeks, barely there, almost blending in with her complexion but Tim is nothing if not hypervigilant. He goes to take another photo when a bug flies into view. It’s a ladybug. It lands precariously on the tip of her nose and it’s just the thing that breaks her out of her work-induced trance. Tim is watching her now, long forgetting to click the shutter. Her eyes cross as she stares intently at the black-spotted creature and its presence seems to amuse her. She’s giggling to herself, as if sharing an inside joke with the bug and reaches a slim finger to swipe the insect gently from her nose. She inspects it and smiles a smile so soft that not even a feather could compare. He feels like an intruder. More so than one who takes pictures of cute strangers in public.

Coming back to his senses, he takes another picture, the final picture, and lowers the camera from his face. He looks back at his temporary muse and finds that she is already looking at him. Her head tilts in confusion. Apprehension. Possibly a bit of fear. Which is valid given that Tim was pointing a camera at her from across the public park. What should he do though to quell her fears?

He felt his face lift into a grin; he didn’t need to look at himself to know it was awkward and forced. A shrug of his shoulders and a flimsy wave of the camera in his hand was the only thing he did. Before he could begin to stumble over himself in apology, however, she surprised him. With a cautious hunch, her shoulders brought up to her ears, and an embarrassed smile to match his own, she slowly flips her sketchbook around and he comes face to face with, well, his face. It was a portrait of him. She had drawn a portrait of him. And she was showing him. Feeling embolden, he flips his camera to show her the screen but she’s too far away. He gets up on unsteady legs, cramped from his uncomfortable position, and begins a slow stride towards her. She meets him in the middle.

“Hi.” He barely speaks those words. They’re more like an exhale or a sigh of relief that he hadn’t scared her off.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind the drawing.” Her voice is high and light. Like a spring breeze. She’s daintily waving at him and he sees that her fingers are rough, and calloused. Unexpected but he finds it rather charming. Before he could get another word in, she’s off like an engine. “I just saw you there, and you had your camera so I figured you were taking pictures of us and thought that if you were then you wouldn’t mind me sketching you in kind but I should have asked and I’m sorry for breaching your privacy—”

“Wait, slow down.” He fears that if he hadn’t interrupted her when he did she would run out of oxygen. Did she even breathe during her spiel? A voice in his head, that sounds like Cass, utters a soft ‘pot, kettle’ and okay, he sees a lot of himself in her mile-a-minute style of speaking.

“No need to apologize. I’m flattered, truly. You were right, I was taking pictures of you. And your friends!” he hastily adds that last part. He turns his camera so the display screen faces her and he feels himself hold his breath in anticipation.

A blush rises to her cheeks, red like the ladybug that interrupted her. He quite likes that colour on her. His eyes drift to the sketch and he’s further impressed by her skill. She has an eye for detail. He notices a bird in the background. It’s a robin. That piques his interest and lights a flicker of fear within him.

“May I ask,” he begins slowly, unsure of what that little addition could mean. Did she know? How could she? Was his identity compromised?

“Why did you draw a robin in the background? It’s lovely but I’m curious,” he finishes. He’s going to play dumb until he has more information. She seems taken off guard by the question and raises her shoulders to her ears again in an embarrassed hunch.

“Well,” she starts, but she seems unsure and the words die on her tongue. She tries again.

“I just saw it fly by and then it landed behind you. So I thought ‘why not?’ and drew it. It seemed fitting.” She wasn’t looking him in the eye and now he felt kind of felt like a jerk for baselessly accusing some random girl. Of course it was just a coincidence. This bat-paranoia was going to be the end of him one day. It’s by sheer miracles and luck why it hasn’t already.

“Oh, no worries. It just surprised me because it’s my favourite bird.” Right. Lie to the pretty French girl. But what else could he do? Tell her the truth?

“Then it’s a cool coincidence, huh?” She seems encouraged by that tidbit of information.

“Yeah, pure luck on your part.”

“What?” She seems more startled at that than Tim thinks she should be but before he can think deeper into it she speaks again and he would be a fool to not give her his undivided attention.

“Why did you take a picture of me with the ladybug? If you don’t mind me asking.” That stumps him because, to be honest, he does not know why himself. It just felt right. So he tells her as such.

“Well that would be another coincidence because ladybugs are my favourite insects.” She gives him a full smile alongside that statement and the brilliance of it almost blinds him. He wants to capture that smile for eternity.

The thought strikes him. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He knows by the Friday of next week he’ll be flying back to Gotham where it’s business as usual and Red Robin won’t have time for commitments and puppy love. But right now? Right now Tim Drake is on vacation with a week and half left and all the time in the world to entertain the idea of a spring romance. Making the decision, he goes for it and takes the chance.

“I was getting a bit hungry. Do you know anywhere that’s good to eat at?” It’s an offer, open to interpretation. If she just lists some place, he knows where her interests lay. If she offers to escort him somewhere, then she’s taken the bait for exactly what it is, an invitation for more; whatever more is. He hopes she takes the bait.

“Yes I do actually! My parents own a bakery just outside the park.” Her enthusiasm is uplifting and the offer of a place so personal is a good sign in Tim’s book. “Let me show the way, and I could join you if you would like.”

“Perfect. That’s wonderful. It will be my treat since you’re going out of your way on my account.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, it’s my parents’ bakery. They’ll be more than happy to give some complimentary snacks.” She loops her arm around his and begins to drag him to the park gate. She’s strong and her grip is firm and Tim feels lightheaded at the ease with which she pulls him. He can’t help but be swept up in the tides that is this girl.

“I’m Tim, by the way. Tim Drake.” He offers his name, something he should have done at the beginning.

She looks back at him over her shoulder and he’s caught up in the oceans of her eyes. They’re alight with joy.

“Nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

They’re almost by the bakery now, he can smell the fresh baked goods from here, and he can’t wait to sit down and get to know this girl better. Maybe get her number by the end of their lunch.

Yeah. Tim was having a wonderful day.

#timari #timinette #maribat #ml x dc #family-friendly content #who would have thought #tumblr dont fucking try me

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