#two-face’s hatred of all the robins!

[inamindfarfaraway]

I can perfectly picture a Batman: Wayne Family Adventures two-partner that properly introduces Harvey Dent, Two-Face, their relationships with Bruce and vice versa. But I can't draw in the slightest. So I'm going to script it and you'll have to use your imagination. It’s a little longer than the average WFA two-parter. But given how many thoughts and feelings I have about Harvey, I’d say it’s impressively concise. For me. If you like how I write Harvey, I recommend my fanfic spotlighting him as a teenager, compared to which I must warn you this script is positively fluffy. Read it on AO3 here! If you want to draw any of this, please tell me in advance and use the updated original post or the AO3 fic, not necessarily your reblog.

A Second Opinion

Part 1

[Panel one. Vertical rectangle, full screen. Nighttime. The exterior of an abandoned building that is notably more decrepit on the right side, Two-Face's current base of operations, from a distance and high angle. The Batmobile is parked outside. Bruce as Batman is seen on the rooftop from behind, striding stiffly toward the skylight. A speech bubble floats in the air above him.]

Barbara: Are you sure you don't want backup?

[Panel two. Barbara as Oracle watches with a frown of wary concern at her desk in the Clocktower.]

I know these confrontations are very personal for you -

[Panel three. Bruce leans over the skylight seen from below it, about to kick it in. His fists and jaw are clenched, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed sharply; even for Batman on a mission, he's in a bad mood.]

Bruce: I'm fine. I have him right where I want him.

[A speech bubble floats in the space below the panel.]

Harvey: I have him right where I want him!

[Panel four. Fade into a flashback. In stark contrast to the dull and dark blues, greys and blacks of the present scene, the flashback panels are full of light, saturated and warm colours. Harvey Dent stands at a round red table outside a café on a sunny day, beaming. He's a handsome, sturdy man with neat, short black hair, a semi-formal brown suit and wide brown eyes. He was seated, but has risen and slammed his palms down on the table in his enthusiuam. Slightly low angle, like the camera is on the table, and to the right so we have a better view of his left side. A gold wedding ring gleams on his finger. His introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent, District Attorney. Gotham’s best lawyer, technically and morally.’.]

And think of the implications! If the Salvatore Maroni can face justice, so can anyone.

[Panel five. He paces a little behind his chair, gesturing animatedly. Motion lines trail and curve around the other way behind him. His right side is now in profile. Same angle, but pulled back to see over the shoulder of a younger Bruce wearing a nondescript black shirt.]

If his empire can crumble, so can any criminal organization or corrupt institution, no matter how powerful. This trial could be a beacon of hope for Gotham. Proof that the law can actually help people, that the spirit of it is alive.

[Panel six. Opposite Harvey, Bruce is sitting comfortably. He has notable eyebags and less light in his eyes than Harvey, but smiles in earnest admiration.]

Bruce: I think you're right. Maroni used to own the city, but ever since you, Jim and Batman started working together...

[Panel seven. Side shot of both of them from Bruce's right and Harvey's left, showing them down to their legs. Bruce leans forward. Harvey has sat back down. In the background, their memories conjure a vision of Batman and Harvey shaking hands before the Bat-Signal. The figures' lower halves fade to translucent above and behind their real counterpart's heads. That Harvey is smiling too and the one leaning forward, while Batman's mouth is a flat line but his eyes are soft.]

things have changed more than I could have imagined.

Harvey: I just hope we can keep it up. Maybe in a few years, Gotham won't need a Batman.

[Panel eight. Close-up on the right half of Bruce's face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of shock and vulnerability, although he isn’t offended. He has simply never considered being able to end his crusade before. Panel nine. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Bruce: Do you really believe that?

[Panel ten. Closer front shot of Harvey at eye-level. We can now see that he actually does have bags under his eyes. He's more pensive and his smile drops.]

Harvey: Yeah. I mean, Bats is a great guy. I don't want him to just disappear. But his methods...

[Panel eleven. Deep shot. Two petty crooks run through an alleyway at night while Batman looms behind them atop a ledge, a huge, hulking silhouette crouched animalistically with piercing white eyes and clawed fingers raised to pounce. The scene is somewhat abstracted to highlight the criminals' emotions. The alley walls seem to be closing in on them and Batman's curling cape flows into the surrounding darkness. Angle is above the very small-looking criminals, but below Batman such that his striking, soulless eyes glare right at the reader. Harvey's speech bubbles are in the top left and bottom right corners, framed by the blackness.]

fighting violence with violence and terror with terror... they're hardly ideal, are they?

[Panel eleven. Harvey places his right hand on Bruce's left arm in pride, who is too busy processing to return his smaller, softer smile of personal affection. Side shot from Harvey's left and Bruce's right that cuts them off at the torso.]

In my opinion, the work you're doing with the Wayne Foundation does better at lowering crime rates in the long run.

[Panel twelve. Over-the-shoulder shot again, Harvey's this time to show Bruce full of love, relaxing and leaning into the touch.]

Bruce: Well, in my opinion, you're a better person than me or Batman.

[His second speech bubble descends into the empty space.]

And I’d love to see the day Batman can retire.

[Panel thirteen and fourteen occupy different vertical halves of the screen and the same horizontal space for half of their lengths, the former higher, the second lower. The first shows Harvey from the right cut off at the thighs, in a courtroom, delivering some kind of unwritten passionate declaration; on his left and in the background, the defendant, the aforementioned crime boss Maroni in a nice black suit, holds an opaque bottle labelled as cough medicine and smirks viciously. The second is a close-up of Harvey’s head on the floor. Only the right half of his face is visible, the left turned away, and he is howling in unfathomable agony, tears streaming down his cheek. The stem of his speech bubble reaches down to the top of panel fifteen. This is a straightforward frontal shot of Bruce in the present. He stands tense and grim, poised to throw a Batarang with his right arm. Silver moonbeams shine through the broken skylight. Layered in front of the panel’s top border and behind Bruce, Harvey’s scream appears to ring through the cowl’s bat ears and extends continuously offscreen in extra large, blood-red lettering. The bubble fades around it to make it stand against the background.]

Harvey: ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Bruce: Two-Face.

[Panel sixteen. Same angle of Harvey and Two-Face. The left half of their face is ravaged by raw, pink chemical burn scars and has a bloodshot eye with burned lids; even their right eye is sunken and shadowed with a menacing glint; their hair is the same on the right, but bleached white, longer and wild on the left; they wear an angular, elegant suit divided vertically in alternating black and white. They’re smiling smugly, posture calm, confident and commanding. Their right hand aims a pistol at Bruce, and the camera. The other hand, bereft of a ring, holds their two-headed coin. Their introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent & Two-Face. All the drive. Fractional sanity. Half the morals, or less.’. The outlines of their speech bubbles are smooth as usual on the right and rough and scribbled on the left when both alters in the system are in relative cooperation - a dual consciousness referred to as ‘H/TF’ in the script - completely smooth when the still goodhearted, but deeply troubled Harvey is speaking alone, and completely irregular for the much more merciless, callous Two-Face personality alone.]

H/TF: Bats! Let us guess: you didn’t bring any backup because you have a self-righteous hero complex about us in particular?

[Panel seventeen. Closer frontal shot of Bruce scowling and hunching his shoulders in shameful concession.]

Two-Face: Good. Those Robins are nothing but trouble.

[Panel eighteen. Long rectangle panning down the room. Bruce and H/TF are in the background as H/TF gesture with their left arm to two men dressed like high-level businessmen in the foreground, tied to chairs with a gun pressed to each of their heads by H/TF's identical twin henchmen. The captives are bruised, cut and slumped in exhaustion.]

H/TF: Now, take one step toward us and the hostages get it. Don't go feeling sorry for them. They work for Oswald Cobblepot. His reform is fake -

H/TF and Bruce: Obviously.

H/TF: And they've already told us everything.

[Panel nineteen. Horizontal side shot from Bruce's left and H/TF's right, to frame the hostages between them.]

H/TF: But if you go after us, you'll lose your best lead on his criminal activities.

Bruce: And people will be dead.

H/TF: Yeah, whatever.

[Panel twenty. Close shot of H/TF from the left. They look left, contemplating their coin in their open hand. One face is corroded and blackened by acid, the other shiny and clean, both visible as it's drawn in a motion frame while spinning.]

You say that making our decisions based on chance is irrational and unhealthy, but believing in free will isn't all roses either. So many tough choices.

[Panel twenty-one is small box in the middle of the screen capturing the impact of the Batarang knocking the gun out of one of the henchmen's hand. H/TF's speech bubble floats in the space below it.]

There's never a win-win, is there?

[Panel twenty-two, a vertical rectangle. In the lower foreground and to the right, a gleeful H/TF bolt to the slight right of the camera, relishing both their escape and how unhappy their enemy is. In the background, Bruce restrains the armed henchman with a bolas while knocking the unarmed one out behind him with a backhanded blow. His cape billows with his rapid movement.]

At least the coin lets us be unpredictable!

[Panel twenty-three. Angle is essentially Bruce's POV. H/TF glance over their right shoulder, showing their unscarred features twisted in mockery, and sarcastically wave with their gun. They're just beyond the doorway.]

By the way, we're very good at getting two things done at once. You might wanna check your car.

[Panel twenty-four. Outside. Bruce's shadow falls from below the border diagonally over the Batmobile. Its tyres are slashed. Its fuel is leaking out into a puddle underneath it. In the next panel, we see him at eye height past the front end of the car. He has fallen to his knees, head hung.]

Bruce: Oracle? You were right. I need help.

[The black sheen of the Batmobile fades into a flat black background below. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Barbara: You've already got it.

[Panel twenty-six. The first two sentences are in a bubble at the top, connected to the final sentence’s one dead in the middle. She's viewed from behind at a low angle looking up at her computer monitor. Her shoulders are assertively squared. Her security camera footage is split in two; Bruce and the crippled Batmobile are in the left window and H/TF's getaway car (also black on one side and white on the other) racing along a road in the right.]

We've been gathering intel. We know where Two-Face will strike next - and you know him as well as he knows you. Let's make a plan B.

Part 2

[Panel one. Distant establishing shot of a brightly lit black-tie gala in a vast, ornate hall, the tasteful decor dominated by white, light blues and silver. A caption informs us that this is 'The Cobblepot 'Charity' Gala'. Oswald Cobblepot is in the heart of the crowd, shaking hands with some official. Bruce Wayne is within earshot, but nearer the double doors. Panel two is a lower, tighter horizontal rectangle where Oswald and his guests are staring at the camera with tiny black dots for eyes in alarm at the doors slamming open. H/TF’s shadow falls over the floor. Panel three shows that Harvey and Two-Face have invited themselves, holding an assault rifle in both hands. Three smaller vertical panels on alternating sides of the screen show the doors being locked by pairs of Two-Face's minions in contrasting, complemetary outfits and wielding guns. The bird’s eye view of panel seven makes it clear that the guests are surrounded and trapped. Panel eight cuts back to H/TF.]

H/TF: Good evening, scum and enablers. We're -

[Panel nine takes us closer to focus on their - or rather, Harvey's - surprise.]

Harvey: Bruce? What are you doing here?

[Panel ten is a frontal shot of Bruce, like the camera's been reversed in the same position. His confusion is an act, but his concern is real.]

Bruce: I'm the richest man in Gotham and this is a high-society gala. What are you doing here?

[Panel eleven. Side shot that doesn’t show the scarring. Harvey lowers the gun, eyes softening as Bruce reaches out to him.]

I thought we agreed that you still needed treatment.

Harvey: I…

[Panel twelve. Frontal short. Remembering his mission, Harvey loses a degree of control and the two embittered alters lightly push Bruce away and point the gun straight ahead at Oswald with a glare. Motion lines trail from their arm.]

H/TF: That doesn’t matter! What matters is taking down the Penguin!

[Panel thirteen. Oswald presses a hand to his chest, somehow at once mortified and supercilious. You can hear the melodramatic sad violin. Beside him, his associates are cowering and aghast.]

Oswald: Why, everyone knows that I’m reformed. Attacking me when I’m doing good just proves how far you’ve fallen.

[Panel fourteen. H/TF snap at him furiously, and their speech bubble is large, spiky (still with the different texturing) and has a red outline for emphasis. Their eyes are stylized as flames; their right eye’s flame is orange and the left’s blue. Bruce is giving Oswald an intense sidelong glare. His lettering is smaller and his bubble's outline dashed to indicate that he's speaking under his breath.]

H/TF: SHUT UP!

Bruce: Shut up.

[Panel fifteen. Wide low angle shot up into the shadowy rafters. Damian, Dick and Tim are hiding in their vigilante identities and watching the scene below intently, at the ready. Their speech bubbles are dashed as they’re whispering. Damian is tense like a coiled spring, hand is on the hilt of his sword. Dick’s facial expression is blatantly disdainful of the villain in question, but his position and body language are calmer. Tim is all business.]

Damian: Shouldn’t we -

Tim: Not until the signal, remember? We don’t want to escalate and endanger the civilians.

[Panel sixteen. Close-up profile shot of Dick.]

Dick: Yeah, I hate Two-Face, but Bruce has got through to Harvey before.

[Panel seventeen. H/TF aim their gun with their right hand as their left reaches into their pocket to take out their coin. Their jaw is tight in composed ire. Diagonal angle to show Bruce on their right, overlaid by the gun. HT/F's speech bubble is near their head, but Harvey's is under the panel-dividing horizontal line of the gun.]

H/TF: You have the right to remain silent, forever.

Harvey: Bruce, get out of here.

[Panel eighteen, a square. Bruce is alone in the frame. He folds his arms, Batman's stern, steely presence creeping into his expression and posture.]

Bruce: Whatever you're willing to do to those people, you can do to me.

[Panel ninteen. Same composition with H/TF. They frown, the unscarred features looking regretful while the scarred ones look annoyed and disdainful.]

H/TF: Fine. Just stay out of our way.

[Panel twenty. Close up as they flip their coin. We get the blurring motion displaying both sides again. The next panel is a repeat shot where Bruce’s right hand snatches the coin in midair.]

H/TF: HEY! Give it back!

[Panel twenty-one. Extreme close-up, narrow horizontal parallelogram focused on Bruce's defiant stare. His speech bubble floats close underneath.]

Bruce: No.

[Panel twenty-two. He holds the coin out of reach. The camera is angled over and to the side of Bruce's left shoulder, to put as much visual distance between his outstretched right hand and H/TF as possible, Bruce's body in between them. H/TF’s left hand is balled into fist around the lowered gun while their right gestures like they’re arguing a case in a courtroom. They look resentful, but also coldly resigned. The speech bubbles can extend out of the panel. In the backgroud, some of the guests are depicted as simplified, featureless figures.]

H/TF: They aren’t worth sticking your neck out for. Nobody in Gotham is -

Harvey: I learned that the hard way.

Bruce: And I’ve learned otherwise. This won’t make things better, Harvey.

[Panel twenty-three. Two-Face fixes the gun on Bruce with a sadistic, unhinged snarl that’s distinctly his own.]

Two-Face: Listen, Wayne, I don’t care for you a bit. Give us our coin back or I’ll -

[Panel twenty-four. Bruce raises an eyebrow.]

Bruce: But what if it’s good heads?

[Panel twenty-five. Two-Face freezes. A ‘Twitch’ sound effect is at the corner of his right eye. Panel twenty-seven. A henchman aims his own gun with nervous eagerness.]

Henchman: I'll get your coin for you, boss!

[Panel twenty-six. The vigilantes leap down from the rafters. Dick's already thrown a Wingding to disarm him that flies downward rotating and seems to cut the shape of the panel, which has a tapering lower end.]

Dick: No!

[Large red 'BANG!' sound effect between panels. Panel twenty-seven is a small box in the middle of the screen showing the Wingding knocking the smoking gun away a split-second too late. Panel twenty-eight. Bruce and Harvey in the background and the bullet in the foreground are centred. Harvey slams into Bruce and knocks him down with his full weight, briefly putting himself in the path of the bullet.]

Harvey: Bruce!

[Panel twenty-nine. Long, vertical rectangle panning down from above the vigilantes standing in dramatic heroic landing poses at the top of the frame, wearing varyingly emotive expressions of shock, to Bruce lying propped up by his elbow and Harvey on his hands and knees at the bottom. The discarded assault rifle hits the floor between Harvey and the vigilantes with a 'Clatter' sound effect in yellow, uneven text. The coin slips out of Bruce's hand with a motion line to rest between him and Harvey. Panel thirty. Angle at eye level with Bruce and Harvey. Bruce sits up. He stares at Harvey with shining eyes and the beginnings of a smile as he processes what just happened, and what didn’t precede it.]

Bruce: You saved my life.

[Panel thirty-one. Angle is behind Bruce’s head. Harvey avoids eye contact, showing Bruce his unscarred profile. He’s solemn and though he too has a relieved hint of a smile, it doesn’t reach his eyes.]

Harvey: You never stop trying to save me. It was the least I could do.

[Panel thirty-two. Harvey’s POV. Low angle, tilted up at Bruce on his feet, offering his hand to help him up. We can tell that it’s Harvey’s perspective with both eyes because the left half of the image is dim and blurry due to the damage the acid did to his left eye. The speech bubbles are exclusively on the right.]

Bruce: It isn’t too late, Harvey. You can still heal. You can get better, be better.

[Panel thirty-three. Close-up on the right half of Harvey’s face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of tentative, wary hope and raw vulnerability. He has wanted to end his crusade throughout its duration, but never been able to. Panel thirty-four. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Harvey: Do you really believe that?

[Panel thirty-five. Side shot that now only shows the side shot of Harvey’s face. Bruce kneels down be closer to eye level with him.]

Bruce: Yes. Always, I’ve been where you are. Feeling like you can never be more than all your pain and anger. But if you want a second opinion, I think you’re a better person than you know.

[Panel thirty-four. A square in the middle of the screen. Harvey’s right hand reaches out to Bruce’s waiting one, but lingers, tense and trembling, above the coin. Panel thirty-five. Vertical rectangle. Harvey shrinks in on himself, hunched over with his face buried in his arms and hands clutching his hair; perhaps he doesn’t trust himself not to pick up the coin and give Two-Face a means to make harmful decisions, just can’t make another choice of his own or both. Around him blackness with spiky, scribbled inner edges consume the screen like reality is fracturing or dissolving, or some all-consuming destructive force is coming for him.]

Harvey: Just… just take us to Arkham. We deserve it. We need help.

[The black extends, replacing the white background. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Bruce: You’ve already got it.

[Fade into panel thirty-six. Horizontal rectangle. Distant, high angle. The black lightens to purple and becomes the night sky, which is warming to pink at the first moment of dawn. Harvey is handcuffed, about to enter a police car on his right. A cop is escorting him. However, Bruce has his left arm around his shoulders and they’re both in relatively good moods, similar to how they were in the flashback.]

Harvey: When did you get so optimistic, Mr Gothic McBrooding?

Bruce: Someone has to be. And hey, I had a good teacher.

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)

featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]

notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.

Sunday

About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.

About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.

About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.

Aventurine

About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.

About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.

About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?

Blade

About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.

About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.

(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.

Acheron

About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.

About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.

(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.

Black Swan

About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.

About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.

About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....

end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DP x DC prompt. Dead on main. AU with giant true ghost form of Danny.

In Gotham, strange things happened quite often.  But only now did Dick really want Constantine or Zatanna around.

Cult leader: We hope the first victim will be tasty enough for you.

Jason finally frees himself from the gag. What is he going to do? Distract the attention of this thing on himself?

Red Hood: Eat him! Eat him!

Dick stared in horror. He knew that Damian didn’t yet get along with all the family members but he didn’t expect the outright hatred from Jason.

The creature’s movement is too fast. Dick blinks. Where is his brother? Did he fail him again?

Robin: Open your fucking jaw, you ghostly freak, or I’ll start knocking your teeth out and trust me, no dental coverage will cover it.

The face of the ghost takes a thoughtful expression.Nightwing can see as it is moving its tongue.

Just don’t swallow. Please. Don’t swallow.

The ghost finally spits out Robin. Then it wipes its lips.

Danny: Ew, do you wash at all, bird? My poor taste buds.

Robin: I’m in my work suit. Taste the dust and garbage of Gotham, big jerk. Why did you even lick me?

Danny:Hey, it was dangerous in here.

Damian lifts eyebrow.

Danny:..

Danny: And they smeared on you concentrated ectoplasm. I couldn’t control myself. Well, until I tasted Gotham on you. It killed the mood.

Robin:...

Danny: Sorry. But I was hungry, okay? And this stuff is toxic to people. You should thank me.

Damian: You’re just gross, disgusting..

Jason: Hey, don’t talk to my boyfriend like that!

Boyfriend?!!

Damian: Got the cult members? Good. Now shut your mouth, Hood.

Damian: But first untie Nightwing and tell your monster to apologize for almost make him have a heart attack.

Dick: Already did it myself. Thanks for the care.Then...

Dick: What the actual hell?! You two! No. You three owe me an explanation. Now!

Danny: Um. You must be Dick. Your brothers have told only good things about you.

Jason: Lie.

Damian: Total lie. I haven’t said one good thing about you.

Danny: He loves your hugs.

Damian: Get back to where you came from! Vicious lying creature! *aggressively erases the pentogram* I did not say this!

Dick: Stop it, both of you!

Dick: You!*points at Danny* Stop talking so loud! I have a headache.

Danny *nods*.

Dick: You! *points at Damian* Give me a hug!

Damian: But I’m covered in saliva, Grayson.

Dick: I said hug me!

Dick: You! *points at Jason* bring your boyfriend to the family reunion.

Jason: What? Again? For what?

Dick: What do you mean again? Who else knows?

Damian *frees his hands and starts counting*.

Damian: By my calculations, you’re the only one

Dick *exhales calmly*

Damian: who didn’t know it yet.

Dick: What the hell? Even Bruce?

Danny: Even Bruce.

Dick: Why am I always the last to know?

Damian: Because you don’t live in Gotham, Richard.

[reginalusus]

Just a sketch that I was too tired to finish... And since it's Father's Day I'm just gonna dump a bunch of my more silly (mostly) headcanons about their dynamic below, teehee.

General - They argue. A lot. About anything. Jason is the instigator. Harvey is almost always correct. - There has been a karaoke battle at some point. - They smoke far too much and smoke breaks are common occurrences during anti-hero outings. They are no longer mere breaks; they are rituals. - One of the only things they are comfortable openly bonding over is their alleged hatred of Bruce - and weapons. - Actually work very well together in combat. Jason's accurate, hard-hitting martial arts expertise and agility compliment Harvey's more elegant and violent approach. Gotham's scumbags are cooked. - They were both slain by Gotham, and reborn. They are now both living their second life - neither want to admit to each other that they find comfort that they're not alone in this. - They will take any opportunity to bring up each other's past interactions; the two-toned car, the two-story building fiasco, the kidnapping, anything. - Jason's biological father is the root cause of their most explosive, brutal fights. Both of them, however, are exhausted and have other shit to worry about, so they avoid this topic as best as they can.

Jason's POV - Teases Harvey about twos, duality and doubles to distract from the horrors. - When angry, will call Harvey 'Apollo' to piss him off. Sometimes it's 'Ex-District Attorney', with emphasis on the 'Ex'. - He doesn't like it very much when Harvey attempts to get close/connect with him; relationships are transactional. At least that's how Jason views them. - Hates being passenger in Harvey's car because he doesn't get any say over the radio. - He does view Harvey as a parental figure, or something like it, but he's conflicted. - Actually appreciates it when Harvey helps him through PTSD episodes. - Sadly, he isn't very good at helping Harvey through dissociation/depressive episodes yet. He sort of stands there like the man emoji. - Will randomly come out with courtroom related lines when Harvey does something bad, like: "Your honour, my client would like to plead Gemini," or "Your honour, in my client's defence, he didn't know the safety lock was off." - Makes jokes about Harvey's thugs all wanting to have 'a night' with Harvey. - Absolutely refuses to call Harvey "dad", even jokingly. He will have sightseen everything in Hell before that happens. - But at the same time he cries out for a father figure, one that is proud of him, that loves him. He secretly loves it when Harvey pats his shoulder or gives an approving nod.

Harvey's POV - Will make jokes about Jason being alive again to distract from the horrors. - When angry, calls Jason 'Robin' or 'Pup' (name of a baby bat) to piss him off. - Tries to bond with Jason - he *wants* to - but he's a big dumbass about it. - Does not understand Jason's music taste and doesn't have any desire to. - Views Jason as the child he never had the chance to have. In a sense, that makes him quite protective of Jason, but he hides this. He tries desperately not to be like his own father. - Is quite good at understanding Jason's emotions; he knows how to deal with his attacks and does, begrudgingly, use tips he learned from his previous therapists. - Doesn't wish to burden Jason with his own episodes. Unfortunately it's not always possible to hide them. - Just as Jason tortures him with puns, Harvey will do it right back. He'll come out with things like, "We only put up with you because you were the SECOND Robin," or "How would you like to die a second time?" - He will stand and stare awkwardly when Jason brings (sneaks) lovers back to the hideout. But he minds his business. - May have accidentally called Jason his son a few times. Or his "kid". But not to Jason directly, only in his talks between himself and Two-Face. - He likes seeing Jason happy. So many kids and young people are let down by Gotham's corruption and he'll be damned if Jason becomes a victim of it (again).

[shy-writer-999]

hey friend! can i request a capital F FILTHY zoro x f!reader where they two of them are rivals/borderline enemies who fight all the time but after they both get a lil tipsy they end up hate fucking in the roughest most desperate way possible…

Ohhhh yes yes yes. YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, ANON. anything filthy and with zoro i’m down. brace yourself because this is nasty. you told me capital F FILTHY and i gave you FILTHIER. this turned into a ~2.9k word monstrosity. i read it through like twice so plz excuse any overused words or typos...

everyone say it with me, now: "hate sex! hate sex! hate sex!!!!"

---

You and Zoro butted heads since the day you got on the ship. Zoro thought his tiffs with Sanji were super fucking annoying—but Sanji had nothing on you. Not only did you have an annoying quip in response to everything he said, but he heard you actively shit talking him in front of his face multiple times. He despised you—everything about you. He hated how you mocked him, hated how cocky you were around him, hated the way you fought, your morals, the way you spoke to everyone BUT him; he couldn’t stand you.

The pair of you had almost gotten to blows multiple times, but he just couldn’t bring himself to hit you. He’d threaten you with his sword but never use it, even though he thought about it more than he would like to admit.

Your asinine remarks would replay in his head sometimes. “Zoro, the amount of effort you put into working out and being stoic is fucking pathetic. Lighten up for once. You’re fucking draining to be around.” Your tone was vile and pitiful. He saw red any time you said stuff like that.

“Zoro, another bottle of sake? Like you haven’t had enough to drink for a whole year? Fucking alcoholic.” You would smirk and condescend, and he’d try to send it back your way but he felt like the couldn’t twist the dagger the same way that you could.

“Shut up,” he would respond, agitated and cold. “Mind your fucking business and go nag someone else, woman. You’re insufferable.”

What was the most agitating thing about you being an asshole to him was that you did it while looking so good. He hated that. He would actively mull the fact over—you were gorgeous, but you had such a rotten personality, it couldn’t be helped. You fought like shit, treated him like a child, mocked him, derided him… And he did the same to you. But he felt his cock twinge any time you got close and nasty with him.

“Yeah, Zoro? Going to go sneak back to your hideout and drown yourself with sake before swinging your swords around? Fucking weirdo.”

Sometimes he would get really intense about it. He’d seethe with hatred and respond with such loathing that it was a wonder he didn’t do anything about it. “If you don’t leave me alone, I swear I’ll slit your throat.”

“Yeah, jackass? I’m sure you like to dream about that, but you’ll never be able to do it because you’re 1: a pussy and 2: I’m your crewmate, idiot.” Sometimes you’d tease him for having the hots for you (which you thought was false), and he’d get so flushed and angry that you thought he would light on fire.

One night, a group of the crew was drinking on deck. You, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Robin, and Usopp. Everyone was a few cups (or bottles) deep, and what started in raucous laughter ended with people splitting up into small groups or going inside for some snacks.

You and Zoro were unfortunately sitting next to each other, much to your mutual dislike. An offhand comment from Zoro (he was speaking to Usopp) vaguely alluded to you being bad at wielding a sword. It set you off. Your head whipped in his direction. He must have been sitting a few feet away.

“What the fuck did you just say, Zoro?”

He rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “What’s it to you? Can’t you mind your own damn business?”

You bit your lip and shoved the crude and despicable rebuttal back in your throat—it wasn’t worth fighting with him again. You already had a spat earlier that day, which left you both livid. Sometimes you’d goad him into it for fun and games. The added benefit was that he would get even hotter when he was angry. Sure, his personality was shit, but when he sneered and snarled at you he looked damn good. You were in denial about how much his scowls turned you on, but you ignored it because you couldn’t stand the man. He was just an atrocious person all around, and you let him know that every second that you could.

After you heard the comment, you huffed, snatched your bottle up and stormed inside. You were about to smack the shit out of him. When you stood up, the alcohol hit you—you were definitely tipsy, perhaps that was contributing to how enraged you were.

You went into the galley and you were about to grab another bottle when the door opened. Those familiar, maddeningly heavy, swaggering footsteps padded towards you. Presumably, Zoro was coming to grab another bottle of sake. Like he fucking needs one, you scoffed to yourself.

“Oh, great.” He was scornful and sarcastic. “You gettin’ more? Can’t wait to see how annoying you get after this bottle.”

“Zoro, you’re on my last fucking nerve.” You turned around and he was a couple feet away, arms crossed. Something in his eyes looked different.

“Is that so? When am I not on your last nerve? You’re so fuckin’ sensitive, get a grip.”

You bit your tongue, trying to not say something foul. You failed.

“Zoro, I’m so sick of you. Your presence is literally unbearable. I can’t stand you, seriously, not right now. And oh, by the way, you’re a shit swordsman.”

You knew that last part would infuriate him. You wanted to get him riled up. It was a sick form of entertainment for you. And anytime you told him he was a shit swordsman he went ballistic.

“Do you ever shut your damn mouth!?” He stepped forward, his voice angry. He was uncomfortably close. You were leaning back on the counter, trying to create any distance you could between your face and his, but he had you caged in. He put a hand on the counter behind you.

“Always looking to start a fight, huh?” His tone was contemptuous and belittling. “You’re about to bite off more than you can chew.”

The closer he got, the hotter he looked. You hated him, but fuck, he was a sight for sore eyes. When he was up this close, you felt even more intoxicated than you already were.

“And what would that mean?” You stared into his eyes, deadpan and annoyed. You placed it now, you could see what about his eyes looked different—his eyes were ravenous. He looked like he was starving for something. More liquor? You hoped he was hungry for something else.

“You’ve got such a big mouth and you never stop running it.” He was practically growling.

Your heartbeat grew faster, and heat started to bloom between your legs. He was so hot when he was angry. That was part of the fun. Especially when his voice got like that.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and your eyes were deadly.

“Might have to shut you up somehow. Maybe you’ll shut the fuck up if my cock is shoved down your throat.”

You actually laughed. ���Oh, what is it? Like three inches?”

He drew his face closer to yours. The hand that wasn’t bracing himself on the counter came to squeeze one of your hips so hard that it hurt.

“I’m about to fuck you so hard I break you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking slut.” He murmured, his voice deep and hushed.

Your eyes were locked, eye contact blistering. He was staring into you so hard you thought he’d leave a burn mark on your irises.

“You’re an idiot, Zoro. Are you being serious? You’d cum all over yourself before you even got close to fucking me.”

“Mmmm, we’ll see about that.” He purred. You were speechless, your brain trying and failing to come up with something to throw back at him. It was short circuiting because he just said he wanted to fuck you.

In the moment that you were searching for an answer, his lips crashed into yours. His grip on your hip tightened; it was going to leave a bruise. As your bodies pressed together, you noticed his hard on rutting into you slowly.

The kisses were haphazard and sloppy, teeth knocking. He bit your lip so hard you almost yelped. A hand snuck up to grab a fistful of your hair and he pulled it so tight it’s a wonder he didn’t rip out a huge clump of it.

“You’re fucking useless.” He pulled away from you, murmuring in a husky tone centimeters away from your lips. “You talk all that shit but I know you want me to fuck you. Probably wanted it the whole time.”

“Shut up, Zoro.” You would have enjoyed every second of this if he just shut his trap.

He pushed you up so you were sitting on the counter. Sucking harshly on your neck, he bit it so hard you thought it would bleed. You let out a muffled whine in surprise.

“Are you already getting worked up and I’ve barely touched you?” His voice was poisonous.

“Holy shit, shut up, Zoro.”

“Say that one more time and I’ll put my cock in you.”

You doubled down. You hoped he was serious. “I said, shut the fuck up, Zoro.”

He let go of your hair and hips and proceeded to rip your pants and panties off in one go. He almost shredded the seams. He took in the sight for a moment.

Your eyes were bathed in lust, your breaths shallow and quick already. Your shirt rode up and your nipples were hard.

His fingers wandered to your now bare cunt and he let out a chuckle.

“You’re so fucking wet already. I know you’re going to take it all for me because you’re fucking desperate. Is that right?”

Your mouth went dry and you did the most miniscule of nods. You didn’t want him to know how badly you needed him.

He slid two thick fingers into your entrance then started to finger fuck you. Your walls tightened and pulsed around him, getting adjusted. Pushing them apart, his fingers roamed and prodded. It felt so good that you had to bite your lip to keep the moans back. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“You’ve been craving my cock this whole time like a depraved, touch-starved slut, haven’t you?”

His other hand grabbed a painful fist of your ass and then crept up to squeeze your throat. You let out a barely audible whimper and he felt his cock twitch.

You tried to squeak out words and you were barely successful. “You’re—the one—who’s hard—right now, Zoro.”

It was a lame comeback, but it drove him crazy. “Use your fucking mouth one more time and I’m going to stuff you so full you can’t talk.”

His fingers found your g-spot and pressed on it forcefully. You choked out a breathy “fuck you, Zoro,” and he went still.

“What was that?” His hand around your throat tightened. “Did you not hear what I just said, or are you fucking stupid?”

His fingers started to move twice as fast, and you squirmed. When he could tell you were about to orgasm, he pulled them out.  

He freed his cock from his pants and fisted it lazily for a moment before lining it up with your entrance. “You want this, don’t you? You ran your fat mouth too much, now I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you. Say I’m a shit swordsman one more time and I’ll choke the air out of you until you see stars, then I’ll stuff you full of my cock. But you’d probably like that. Fucking slut.”

“You’re—a fucking—shit—swordsman” you tried to get the words out as his fist squeezed your throat. You couldn’t breathe and you were so aroused that it was hard to focus.

He pushed his cock into your folds and through your slit, entering you inches at a time. You started seeing stars, as promised, and you could only focus on his vice grip around your throat and the sensation of his huge girthy cock stretching you out. He let go of your throat for a moment before bottoming out, and when his tip kissed your cervix he groaned.

“Just look at you. Drooling for my cock, you’re worthless.”

He leaned in so your foreheads touched and pulled out of you agonizingly slow.

“You want more? You want me to fuck you?”

You just looked at him, pouting. You didn’t want to admit it. But you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD. You nodded again and he plunged back into you forcefully. A wet squelching noise sounded into the room when he bottomed out again.

Zoro grinded his hips just enough so he could fuck you deep inside.

“What, the back talk stops the second I put my cock in you?”

You hissed air in through your teeth. “Fuck you, Zoro.”

His jaw dropped for a second and he lost composure, but he kept moving his hips all the same. “What was that?”

“I said fuck you.” You were glaring up at him petulantly.

He pulled his cock out completely and you gasped at the feeling of emptiness.

“Okay, if you hate me so much then I’ll just stop. Is that what you want?”

You could only shit talk for so long before the pleasure started to take over your mind in a haze. All that you knew now was that Zoro was saying dirty things to you and he just took his cock out. That was unacceptable, at this point.

“Zoro.” You whined. “Put it back.”

“Awh, you want me to put it back in?” He feigned pity while you nodded eagerly, throwing all dignity out of the window.

“If you want it that bad, then you need to beg for it like the pathetic little slut you are.”

Your cheeks smarted with blush. You couldn’t believe that you were about to beg for his dick, but you needed it so fucking bad you couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck. Please Zoro. Please keep fucking me.”

Now that he was getting carried away, he wanted to be cruel. You did have a habit of running your mouth, and he wanted to punish you for it.

“Hmm. That’s not quite good enough. If you really want it, say my name. Say my name and I’ll fuck you.”

“Zoro.” You pleaded, your voice strained. He snuck a hand back in your hair and pulled your hair so hard it hurt.

“No. I said, say my name.”

“Roronoa Zoro. Please. I need it.”

“Louder.”

“Roronoa Zoro. P-please.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He pressed his cock into you again with a groan. One hand was gripping your hip, and he moved the other down to rub circles over your clit. Your hips bucked.

You started to let out moans with reckless abandon—you needed it harder, faster, deeper, anything that he could possibly do with his cock, you needed it. The noises melted in his ear, but he was worried that someone would hear, so he kissed you. It actually felt tender at times—if you weren’t lost in pleasure, you’d have been able to feel his thumb rubbing a circle on your cheek. What was up with that?

Between his kisses, he said something filthier with each thrust. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Fuck, Zoro. Feels so good. Your cock—feels so fucking good.”

His shaft and tip dragged over your g-spot countless times. Each time your moans got louder and the mess you were making on Zoro’s cock got juicier.

“Zoro, ‘m gonna cum.” You were at your wits end.

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock. Cum for me. Just for me.”

That was all you needed to hear before you started to squirm and writhe with pleasure. Your fingers dug into his shoulders and your eyes rolled back in your head—it was that good. He fucked you through your orgasm and then pulled out to cum on your stomach. He wanted to cum inside, but he figured he’d save that for next time (if you were nice enough to let him).

Moments later, while he got you cleaned up, he admired how flushed you were and how lidded your eyes were with satisfaction.

“Baby, huh?” You giggled.

“What?” Zoro was puzzled.

“You called me baby.”

He turned crimson. “You heard me wrong, blockhead.”

“Mmmhmmm, sure. Now help me put my pants on. There’s no way I can walk after that, baby.”

He was speechless. He knew you were teasing him, but he liked it. Enemies to lovers, much?

You found out later that no one walked into the kitchen while you were fucking because Sanji almost went inside and got quite the eyeful through the mini window on the door. He almost puked at the sight then promptly told everyone “no one go in the galley because the two boneheads are doing something disgusting.”

[bucketofpaint]

1 2 3 master post

The baby justice, or whoever they were, were starting to get on Danny's nerves. Well, basically, everything did that currently, but not as much they did.

Don't get him wrong. He understood what it was like to be a teen hero, and he respected them for it. But it didn't stop him from immediately groaning when he ran into bird boy and arrow girl.

It started out as pretty okay day. He got a passing score on a test, and it had been a slow work, which meant he'd could go home early. He had got to his trashy apartment and immediately passed out. Danny wished that he'd could sleep till next week, but a few extra hours were still much appreciated.

But fate had other plans. Danny had woken up late at night in a cold sweat, flashs of green and loud yelling, repeating in his head over and over. Danny got up and made his way to the window. He needed to get some air and to clear his head.

_____________

" I'm tired of just sitting here." Artemis complained, fiddling with one of her arrows absencemimdly.

" we need to be ready for anyone that leaves the building." Robin snapped back, not taking his eyes off of the building below.

Artemis already knew this, of course, but it didn't change the fact that she would rather be in the building, actually fighting instead of just waiting.

Her and Robin were stationed on the adjacent building to the one that was the base for a human trafficking scheme. The reason for them being outside and not inside with the others was because, apparently, the top people of this scheme were known flight risks.

____________

Danny drifted through the night sky, trying not to remember his nightmare. Trying and failing. He couldn't help it. The images just kept popping up in his head. mostly ones of his parents' faces filled with disgust, rage, and just pure hatred,while they tried to blast him to bits.

Danny gets pulled out of his head by the sound of a whisper argument taking place on the rooftop below. Danny looks down and is immediately regretting going outside. The two people arguing were members from Young Justice because, of course, they were. If Danny didn't know any better, these run-ins were starting to seem like no coincidence. He definitely wouldn't put it past CW.

If Danny remembered right, the two people were Robin and Artemis. It looked like the two were on a stake out or something. They kept bickering back and forth, seemingly unaware of the goon that started to creep up behind them. Danny watched and prepared himself in the case he needed to step in.

When the goon was about a foot behind them, Robin swung around and swiftly knocked the guy out. But as soon as he did, multiple men started popping up. Some jumped from the next roof, others climbing up the sides.

Robin and Artemis seemed to have it handled. Things quickly went down after the goons pulled out wepons that shot similar green blasts that left smoldering spots.

It wasn't long before the duo was surrounded, hands up in surrender.

One of the men walked towards them, reaching out to grab them. That's when Danny stepped in, keeping his invisibility and, sucker punching the dude out cold.

All the goons charged at the two, who at the moment were frozen, both looking around in confusion before joining in the fight.

Danny was exhausted by the time the last guy was knocked out. Which was not saying a lot because he had been exhausted for weeks, but now, even more so. Danny looked over to Robin and Artemis, noticing how they were both tense and staring right at him. He looked down...

Opps... Apparently, he had dropped his invisibility during some point in the fight. Well, there's not much to do about it now.

___________

Robin stared at the teen, who stared back with a pair of neon green eyes. The teen looked down for a few seconds, then looked back at them and shrugged.

"Cuffs?" The mysterious meta asked

"Um...what?" Robin asked completely confused.

The meta huffed and gestured to the unconscious people.

"Catch." Artemis said, walking past him and tossing the meta some rope. " Just tie their feet and hands for now." The boy nodded.

After all the men had been tied up, the three stood in silence, looking back and forth at each other.

Robin cleared his throat. "So, who -" the meta cut him off with a scoff.

Robin tried again.

" I'm Robin, and you are." Robin asked, keeping his body language friendly.

"Nun-ya." The boy replied. Hmm, it was a unique name. Maybe he wasn't a meta, but an ailen. "Business." The boy finished before fading away.

Robin stood there in disbelief, looking in the area the boy used to be, as Artemis laughed behind him.

[bruciemilf]

I desperately want a bruharvey thing where it's established that two face and Bruce are dating, but Bruce and Harvey aren't.

Harvey suffers from a classic case of " I don't want to ruin the friendship" and Two Face, very gently, but firmly, tells him he doesn't give two fucks.

"I'm ruining him in the back of my Mercedes every week, so there's no downside for me."

"There's gotta be some rule you're violating with that."

Two-Face shrugs, carefully surveying shiny, costy jelwery they scavenged from the heist. Bruce deserves the best and only the best, after all. " Why are we going to Jason's play?"

" Because he spent a week writing it and it matters to him?"

" He's gonna be a tree!"

" He read lord of the rings. He's gotta lots of feelings about trees, that's the shit he's passionate about, pretend you understand and shut up."

I just. Adore the following image:

Just Harvey and Two Face being dads. It's just so. Like. When Dick updates his costume from Robin, they think, well, at least he was convinced to wear actual PANTS.

But then. The Nightwing suit is... Is something.

"It's MY body, MY choice, "

" Of course it is, birdie, I don't mean to come off as sexualising and denying your autonomy, but,--"

Two Face swiftly cuts him off, held back only by Bruce's smaller hand on his chest, " Put on some goddam pants, you loser!"

Dick, with all the hatred safely kept in his soul, " You're BALDING,"

"...You fucking take that back--"

Bruce is mom coded in the way that he's effortlessly intimidating when he chooses to be and Harvey's dad coded in the sense that everyone is scared of him BUT his kids.

Also, Two-Face simply refuses to discipline Jason. Why would he? He's the best, most behaved, sweet boy there ever roamed this filthy earth.

Bruce pinches the space between his eyebrows. " Why did you let my four year old touch your gun?"

" He said 'please' like we thought him to, didn't he?"

" Is the safety on?"

" OH SHI-- no, yeah, doll, I didn't put the safety on before letting my toddler play with a pistol. Of course the safety's on, who do you take me for."

Jason shoots a hole right through Alfred's tea, and the wall, bubbly giggle soaked in sunshine.

"Hn."

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie noticed things. Well, not always right away, but he noticed things. He noticed that Steve liked to be affectionate with the people he cared about: Robin, Dustin, Nancy, and so on. He tried not to read into it when Steve immediately started doing it with him in the Upside Down. He could still feel the tingles from when Steve had placed his hand on his lower back for the first time. The shock that shot through Eddie and the realization that it might not be just women for him nearly sent him crashing to the ground. Worst time to have a sexuality crisis. It had made him realize that he had been checking out Steve on that boat, though. They hadn't gotten together for a long time, though, with them both still healing and Eddie dealing with the aftermath of everything, still dealing with the weight of Chrissy's death. Not until after the kids had gone back to school again.

"I'm just worried, you know! Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, and Vickie graduated. Who's going to look after the kids? Plus, becoming a basketball coach is something I would definitely enjoy doing. Is that stupid?" Steve asked.

Eddie was leaning back against the counter, watching Steve restock the shelves in Family Video. It was empty except for them. He loved the way that Steve’s eyes lit up all protective-like when he talked about the kids. It made Eddie's insides all fuzzy.

"Fucking marry me," Eddie had blurted out.

"Buy me dinner first," Steve said, blushing.

"Okay," Eddie said. "It's a date."

Steve looked at him for a moment, trying to decide if he's serious or not. His face split into a grin, and he put the wrong video on the shelf. He was ridiculously goofy-looking with the way that he grinned, the way his hazel eyes got bigger, and his prince charming hair just looking even better today. Eddie couldn't help but let out a dreamy sigh. That was that. Being with Steve was an adjustment because he had to change his entire view of jocks. He could no longer look at them all as the enemy. It was just a game, just like his own game. The real assholes were the ones that hunted him down, who accused him of murder, and bullied him and his group of misfits. No, the real enemy were the people like Higgins who thought there needed to be division and hatred because they had different interests. Eddie couldn't prove it, but he was pretty sure that Higgins had encouraged their behavior and, because of that, had given Eddie a skewed view of jocks. So, it's all Higgins' fault, really.

Over the last few months of being with Steve, he had come to accept a few things: that jocks weren't all bad, that he was actually starting to like sports, and that he was absolutely in love with Steve. Though he wished Wayne would stop cackling at him. Yeah, yeah, all the shit he gave Wayne about liking sports, and Eddie had to go fall for a jock. The one thing he really loved about Steve was how much he would do for the people, but he hated that he would sacrifice taking care of himself to do it. Although, Eddie was guilty for taking the opportunity to swoop in like a brave knight to help take care of the former king of Hawkins High.

"Where do you think you're going?" Eddie asked from the doorway of Steve’s bedroom.

"Dustin needs a ride," Steve groaned as he rolled out of bed.

"How are you going to do that when you're sick?" Eddie asked.

"I'm not sick," Steve scowled. "I do not get sick."

Steve sneezed so hard that he fell back onto the bed. He groaned, a snot bubble coming out of his nose.

"Sexy," Eddie grinned.

"Fuck off," Steve groaned.

"You say such sweet things to me," Eddie said.

Steve got up off the bed, stuffed his feet into two different pairs of shoes, and tried to move past Eddie. He grabbed Steve’s shoulders.

"I got to give Dustin a ride," Steve said. "I promised."

"Hm, okay, what day of the week is it?" Eddie asked his very stubborn boyfriend.

"It's Tuesday," he scoffed.

"Yeah, try again, big boy. It's Thursday," Eddie said.

"If it's Thursday, does that mean I already gave him a ride?" Steve asked.

"I gave him a ride, and I'm here now. You don't have to be a single mom anymore, Stevie," he teased, flashing his dimples. "Daddy's here."

Eddie picked Steve up and laid him on the bed.

"You're just trying to get into my pants. I'm not sick," Steve said and coughed up phlegm.

"And what's that?" Eddie said.

"I forgot to swallow again," Steve said. "I'll do better. I just need practice."

"Right."

Eddie had stayed all week to take care of Steve and another week for Steve to take care of him when he got sick. Supposedly, he had been worse than Steve, but he was pretty sure that Steve was lying. Steve hadn't complained about it, though. Apparently, he had gotten used to it when he had to take of Eddie when he gotten bit by the bats. Eddie really didn't remember how needy he had been, but apparently, he had been. It was amazing how easy it had been to slip into the role of caring boyfriend, considering that he had never really been one. The first girl he had been with had been a dare for her, and the second had been Paige. He had epically screwed that up. He wasn't perfect, and neither was Steve. Oddly enough, he liked that about their relationship. They didn't have to try so very hard to be perfect. There's always a little give and take in every relationship, though.

"Steve, honey, what are you wearing?" Eddie asked him one day when they were hanging out at Steve's house.

He was dressed all in black. Okay, the black pants were a good fit, but there was something off about everything else. There was something missing.

"You don't like it?" Steve pouted.

"I mean, I do, and I don't," Eddie said, shaking his head. "Where the fuck is your polo?"

"I just thought a change might be good," Steve said.

"No! Nope! No way!" Eddie exclaimed. "If I wanted to date myself, I would take my hand out for a nice little dinner!"

"Robin said - "

"Robin also believes that there are little demobat eggs waiting to burst out of us like in Alien," Eddie said. "So, what she says might not be so trustworthy especially since there's the possibility that she's fucking with you."

"So, you really don't like it?" Steve asked.

"Steve, baby, I love your sweet little sexy numbers," Eddie said. "Do you know why I love seeing you in them?"

"Why?" Steve asked.

Eddie sighed and pulled Steve into his lap.

"Because you like wearing them," Eddie said. "I don't want you to be me or anyone else. I fell in love with Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is what I'm going to get. I love everything about you, from your pastel colors to your polos to you playing basketball. Everything. So, if you don't want to wear these clothes, you shouldn't."

"I love you, too," Steve said. "I mean, I kind of like the black pants with the polo, but other than that, I'll change back."

"Yeah, I figured," Eddie grinned. "I mean, there's nothing about me that you want to change?"

"No! I love everything about you," Steve said. "I mean, I wish you wouldn't leave the wet towels on our bathroom floor. I totally busted my ass on them the other day."

"I think I can work on that," Eddie said and caressed his butt. "Wouldn't want to do anything to damage this sweet thing. But seriously, Stevie, don't change a thing. I'd rather you butt ass naked than try to be me."

"I think I can work on that too," Steve grinned and kissed him. "Let me go change."

Eddie sighed and watched him walk out of the room. When Steve came back in, he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, and his hands were firmly on his hips.

"Well, I was going to put on my polo, but I got a little hot and bothered," Steve said.

"Goddamn, darlin," Eddie whistled, stood up, slapping Steve’s ass. "I guess I have to go put up those towels. It's not fair if only you make the effort."

"I love you!"

"I love you more!"

"More than Dungeons and Dragons?!"

"Don't push it!"

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being A Spy

Requested: Hi!! i love your content, i wanted to request maybe a preference how the boys + homelander would react if reader turned out to be a secret spy. for example, for the boys reader would spy for homelander and vice versa. i hope i worded it okay. Thanks 💓💓💓💓 - anon

A/N: This is such a fun idea!!! But it also hurts my heart lol. I hope you like it my love!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher wants revenge. He trusted you. He trusted you with information about Vought and Homelander (of which you already knew), but also about Becca and Ryan and Lenny. Things he wouldn't have shared with anyone else. They don't do tracking chips like Vought, though now he wishes they had. The second they find out you're working for Homelander, Butcher sees red. He's furious and yelling and ordering everyone. He feels out of control. As if raising his voice and making others listen to him will take all their secrets back. Will give him his power back. It won't. It doesn't. He makes a promise that if he ever comes face to face with you again, he'll kill you. He'll do it with his hands, not a knife or gun. He wants to take back his power.

Hughie is heartbroken. He opened up to you. He talked to you about Robin, and his parents, and even that night at Teks party. You knew every embarrassing story about him and all the songs he listened to and his complicated relationship with Annie, especially in the past few weeks. You weren't a threat or another Vought Supe, you were different. You were supposed to be different. When he finds out you've been working with Homelander he feels humiliated. You've seen every side of him, no matter how silly or stupid or whatever, and you still turned your back on him, on everyone. You never really cared in the first place. He doesn't fall into total denial, but a small part of him insists this isn't true. He doesn't say it, he doesn't vocalize it, but an even smaller part of him wishes you'd come back and explain. He just wants to know why you did it.

Annie knew something was up. She couldn't put it into words, she couldn't describe it, it was just a feeling. The feeling like, from season two, she describes walking around the tower feeling like there was a loaded gun in her face. You were the most powerful Supe she'd ever met. You were powerful and dangerous and that made her feel uneasy. You smiled when you were supposed to and laughed and you said all the right things, but there was just something off. After her time with Stormfront, she's gotten better at seeing people's true intentions. Or, at least, nor trusting the facade they throw on. She blames herself for not realizing, for not saying anything. Maybe if she had, it would have saved the team from all this heartache.

M.M. hates that he ever trusted you in the first place. You are a Supe, after all, and he never would have let a Supe near him or his friends. But you were so convincing, so sweet, so thoughtful. You really had him fooled. You had them all fooled. When it comes out that you were working for Homelander, he doesn't retreat into himself like Kimiko or seek revenge like Butcher. All the feelings he has, all the anger and hatred and shame, it all turns on himself. He blames himself. He should have seen who and what you were, your intentions. He should have been the one to realize what you were up to. But even looking back on it now, going through everything, he still can't pinpoint the red flags. You were just that good, just that believable.

Frenchie is in denial. You? Working for Homelander? That can't be. You worked together, you laughed together, you scraped off blood and guts together. This cannot be. M.M. and Butcher get especially angry at him when he vocalizes his denial. Even Kimiko will yell-sign at him, begging him to come to terms with it. You were a part of the team, you were his friend. He can't turn his back on you just like that. Whatever information you had given Homelander, it must've been a mistake. He really cared about you. He thought you cared about him. All this time, though, you were working for them. You were reporting back to them. If he can't trust you, who can he trust? For now, he's in denial. It's easier this way. It makes him feel better about the while situation.

Kimiko retreats into herself. Like after her fight with Stormfront, after losing Kenji, she hides under that table and watches TV and doesn't talk to anyone. You and Kimiko were close. You were almost as fluent as Frenchie. She told you about when her and him kissed, she told you about being scared from the virus, everything. She never thought you would have been part of Vought. She never would have suspected it. Ever. You were a Supe, but that wasn't enough to make you a bad person. Now she's hurting all over again. She's angry and sad and ashamed. She's furious and she can't take it out on anyone or anything. She yells at Frenchie who's deep in his denial, which makes everything worse. It just makes everyone else angrier.

Bonus! Homelander is furious. He's lethal. You disappear long before he realizes, taking out your chip and going into hiding with The Boys. It's been days since you were even in the tower and he uses everyone to look for you. The Deep and New Noir are absolutely fucking useless, so it's up to him and Firecracker to track you down. Sage rubs it in his face that she knew the whole time, which isn't helpful either, but it's part of a larger plan she's had, but does not disclose fully. Homelander wants you dead. He trusted you. He let you in on his life, his secrets, and you were just using him. No one uses Homelander. He's not going to let you get away with it. He's not going to let you see another day. You fucked him over. That's unacceptable.

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 4

part 1 part 2 pt. 3

this one i am excited for, i hope you guys like it...

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

February 1991, Chicago

Robin has a particular hatred for winter rain. It’s cold, damp and makes everything grey. She doesn't mind the rain in the summer—where it makes everything smell fresh and makes all the greens look bright.

Winter rain, though? Belongs in a circle of hell.

Admittedly, it's more than the way the downpour chills her to the bone. It's always a bad omen, a sign of what's to come. Most people find her paranoid, except Steve. He always nods his head in understanding; Robin can't tell if it's because he just understands her or because the winter rain makes his bones ache.

Robin shakes the water out of her hair as she walks up the steps to her apartment with Steve and Eddie. The bad feeling in her stomach doesn't ease up, creeping further and further up her throat until she worries she might choke on it. She takes her time going up the six flights of stairs, taking deep breaths, convincing herself that everything is fine and it's all in her head.

By the time she makes it to the door, Robin feels lighter.

Pushing through the doorway, Robin lets a small smile rest on her lips as her eyes look around to see who's home.

Her eyes land on Steve, head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

It's then she notices Steve is home, but Eddie isn't.

Steve lifts his head, tears in his eyes. "He's gone, Robs. Eddie left."

The rain could eat shit. Fuck.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Robin waits until Steve leaves and a few minutes extra before making her way into the living room.

She knows the bastard is still here; Robin saw it coming from a mile away.

Trudging towards the couch in Steve's boxers and what she is sure is her ex-girlfriend's t-shirt, Robin smacks Eddie upside the head.

Hard.

"Ow! What the fuck, Buckley?" Eddie squirms, rubbing his head with a pout.

"Oh, shut it, Munson. You know that a slap is the least of your worries. You better believe something on you will be broken by the time you leave again." Robin huffs, her face going red.

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Will you at least come talk to me before you cause me more bodily harm?" He pats the spot on the couch next to him like it isn't Robin's fucking couch.

Robin begrudgingly decides he's right and plops down next to him with a glare. "Trust me, Munson. We will be doing plenty of talking. And by we, I mean me."

"Don't you want to hear my sid—Ow! Birdie, for the love of god, stop hitting me." Eddie rubs his arm.

"No."

"No you won't hear me out, or no you won't stop hitting me?"

Robin levels him with a look so vicious that she is almost certain if he holds eye contact any longer, he will be set on fire.

Eddie's shoulder's slump, "Right."

Robin huffs through her nose, trying to fight back a smile. She will not crack around this idiot, even if torturing him brings her a special kind of joy. "Munson, unless the reason was 'if you didn't leave, Steve was going to die,' then you don't have a good reason."

A small smile makes its way onto Eddie's face, and Robin lightly slaps his knee. "Why are you smiling? You don't get to smile right now."

Eddie deosn't even flinch, "Nothing, it's just you specified Steve dying, and not the two of you or anyone else. Like Steve dying would be the issue. It's nice to see some things never change."

"You see that's where you're wrong, Munson." Robin gets really close in his face, "We've only gotten worse."

Eddie's smile is a full-blown grin now. Robin can't help but be a little charmed.

If Robin is honest with herself, and Steve encourages her to do so more often, she really misses Eddie. Despite her being angry at him, she's happy to have him here to be angry at. But once she's over that, she will be kicking him the fuck out of their apartment.

Something twisted lands in Robin's stomach as she makes her way back into her spot on the couch. Eddie doesn't get it that he left them. He left not just Steve but Robin, too. They were best friends, and suddenly, he's gone.

And on top of that, Robin had to watch Steve crumble, and it just isn't something she thinks she can ever get over.

For years, Robin watched Steve pick himself up over and over again. Resilient, brave, and sometimes a little stupid. That's her Steve. But after Eddie left, she was worried that this time he wouldn't get back up.

She can't go through that again.

Unfortunately though, Robin fears she might need Eddie's fucking help with something.

These boys will be the death of her.

"No more smiling, Munson. This is serious." Robin clears her throat.

"Right." His grin slips off his face. "You were saying you wanted to do the talking?"

Robin looks to the doorway, nervous. As if Steve is going to walk through any moment, despite not leaving all that long ago. She just knows how dates with Drew go. Sometimes Steve will come home early, frustrated and quiet, closed off in ways she hasn't seen in a long time. Other times he won't come home for days, Drew deciding he needed some alone time with Steve.

Robin isn't sure which she hates more.

She shakes her head, knowing she is being unreasonable—not on the hating Drew part (which is really what it is, down to its core) but on Steve coming back early. No matter what happens between Steve and Drew, Robin knows he is dreading coming back to this apartment with Eddie in it or, even worse, with Eddie gone.

"You're going to help me."

Eddie's eyebrows furrow, and Robin almost expects him to question it, to demand answers. Instead, he surprises her. "Okay, what do you need?"

Robin takes a deep breath, "We need to get Steve out of a bad relationship."

Worry falls over Eddie's face, "Is he okay? What happened? Is she hurting him?"

Ah. Robin forgot about that part. Eddie doesn't exactly know about Steve's sexuality. It isn't like the man isn't out—Steve has been out to their friends for years now—but it feels wrong to tell Eddie without consulting Steve yet.

She is going to have to work around it.

"Steve's...fine." Robin doesn't reall know actually. Lately, it's been like pulling teeth trying to get him to talk about Drew. She fucking hates that man. "He's unhappy, though. This person isn't good for him, and I think me saying it isn't enough."

Eddie rubs a hand down his face, "And how am I supposed to help that? Steve doesn't exactly want me around." His arms gesture towards the room in a dramatically flair.

Oh, this silly, silly man, Robin thinks. Unfortunately, he's exactly what Robin needs—more specifically, what Steve needs.

"True."

"Okay, hurtful."

Robin waves him off, "I'm not going to lie to you, Munson. We are both pissed at you. But I am worried about Steve. And I care more about him than I am angry at you. Despite all the shit you did, he cares about you. Because this is Steve. He cares a whole lot and gives a whole bunch without expecting anything. And he deserves better. And I think—no, I know, if he has two of his oldest friends showing him that, maybe he'll listen."

Robin fails to mention that regardless of how this plan goes, she will have her revenge on Eddie, to, ya know, even the score.

Eddie huffs through his nose, "Okay. Of course, I'll help. Besides, I was already planning on sticking around. I don't want to run away, not this time."

"Good." Robin lets a small smile slip onto her face, "Besides, you're a terrible athlete. Don't know why you insist on trying."

A dry laugh escapes Eddie, "Wow, thanks, Bridie. Missed you too."

Robin pushes him playfully. "If you're gonna stick around, maybe I'll hear you out, Eddie. But not now. Not yet. Don't know if this going to be long term; consider this a temporary truce."

Robin expects him to whine and contest it, but instead, Eddie looks delighted. "You called me Eddie."

Robin groans, "Don't ruin it."

Eddie grabs her hand, their rings clanking against each other, and gives it a squeeze. "Sorry, no take backs."

Robin says nothing, but squeezes back.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

i don't get to write her pov very often, but it is so fun. next update we will finally get a peak into Eddie's whole deal. Tag list is closed, but you can put notifs on the first part, I always put the link on the there.

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[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

This may be my grief (but it's you who's made a mess of it)

love is not designed for the cynical - series masterlist here

pairing: jason todd x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

warnings: reader has a panic attack, there's a lot of blood but it's the clean-up part, Jason is riddled with self-hatred and guilt but he's making progress

a/n: ok enjoy kiss kiss <3

Your heart lurches as you stare at the television, your hands clutching the couch cushions on either side of you as you listen to the presenter on the news station that you'd idly turned on for background noise. He's talking about a current fight, some scuffle between some vigilantes and Two-Face downtown. He mentions Redhood - mentions that he was seen going down during the fight and wasn't seen getting back up again.

Suddenly, the walls of your apartment feel small - too small, closing in on you as the air leaves your lungs in a punched-out gasp. He's not getting up. He's not getting up and he's gone again. You stand abruptly, knocking the TV remote off your lap and letting it clatter to the floor as you begin to pace back and forth in front of your couch, trying desperately to keep listening to the news anchor and what he's saying about the current situation.

Maybe he's wrong, you think desperately. Maybe he's alright and no one really knows what they're seeing. Maybe he's… dead. Maybe he's dead again. Maybe you'll never ever see him again. Maybe you'll have to bury him again.

You drop into a sitting position on the floor ungracefully, leaning against the couch as you reach blindly for the remote, suddenly needing desperately for the news anchor to stop updating you on the situation. You fumble with it once you have it, your hands cold and numb as you turn the television off.

The silence, you realize immediately, is worse

The thought of having to mourn him a second time, you realize, might be more than you can handle.

The city moves outside, cars honking and pedestrians shouting - the normal turmoil of Gotham. You fit right in, you suppose, amongst the panic and the pain and the death that permeates this city. You almost, almost wish you'd left all those years ago when Jason became Robin - when you told him it was a choice that would kill him and you threatened to walk out.

And now, in the dull silence of your apartment, your gaze level with your coffee table that has two empty mugs, you wish that you really had left all those years ago… and you wish that you had never come back.

The thought punches out whatever air is left in your lungs as guilt, cold and heavy and choking, settles in your gut. You bring your hands to your face, digging the heels of your palms into your closed eyes as you try to get a hold of your rattling breathing. You had, at times, considered what your life would be like if you'd never met Jason, or if you moved on and gotten over him after his death - his first death. The thought makes nausea roll through your stomach. Of course, you'd thought about it. But you'd always come to the same conclusion - you were lucky to have met him and to have known him as you did. Even if it meant carrying his ghost with you for the rest of your life, you were blessed to have been loved by him.

Now, though, it doesn't feel like a blessing. Now, it feels like a rotten, undead curse, something dragged up from some unholy pit to pull him away from you again, and again, and again. There is nothing lucky in this life and there is nothing lucky in this love.

A clattering on your balcony rips you from your spiralling thought as your head snaps around to see Redhood heave himself up over the railing, stumbling with fatigue and obvious injury. You lurch to your feet, desperate to get to him, desperate to know he's alive, desperate to stop him from seeing you on the floor of your home, grief-stricken and terrified because of him. 

No, you think. He doesn't need to know about that. And fortunately, he's dazed enough from whatever god-awful fight he was in that he doesn't seem to really notice anything beyond the way you rip the door open and pull him inside, your hands flitting over his armour to gauge his injuries. Not at first, anyway. He lets you sit him on the couch, lets you shush his worries about staining the fabric with his blood. He doesn't consider the fact that your soul is already stained from him. Not yet, at least. 

It's not until his armour is off, sitting in the bathtub and dripping crimson blood onto the white porcelain. It's not until you've checked him over, the large gash along his side cleaned and the blood flow staunched. It's when you begin stitching him up, your hands trembling ever so slightly in a way that sends concern shooting up his spine. It's not concern for himself - he's had you do this countless times, and he's done it to himself with much less finesse even more times. But something wrong - something must be wrong for you to be unsteady, for your shoulders to be tense and your eyes to avoid his. The pain from his side is nearly blinding, but there's nothing that sobers him and centres him as resolutely as you on your knees in front of him and afraid. 

"Baby?" his voice is quiet, the breath leaving his lips in a tired sort of sigh that he can't help.

"Don't distract me," is your only response.

"Talk to me," he pushes in that gentle, guiding way of his.

But you say nothing. The silence drips between the two of you as you tie the last stitch, cutting the thread and rubbing your hands with a towel. Jason makes a mental note to buy you new ones as he watches the white fabric blooming red as you try to scrub the blood off your hands. 

But your skin doesn't come clean. There are places where the blood - his blood has dried around your fingers and you rub the towel on your palms until he reaches out, worried. Then, and only then, does it hit Jason, and he's not sure if it's blood loss or fear and guilt that makes him feel lightheaded.

It's his blood on your hands. And they're not coming clean.

He takes the towel from you gently, tossing it onto the other end of the couch before he grips your hands in his own. He's not sure who's trembling more between the two of you. He's not sure who's more blood-soaked. 

"I saw it on the news," you say quietly as you rub your thumb over the knuckles of Jason's hand. "They said - they said you were dead." Your breath hitches. Jason huffs, tightening his hold on your hands.

"Those reporters don't know what the fuck they're talking about most of the time - you know that, baby. They always get it wrong." He soothes, his voice low as he looks down at you. He's still sitting on the couch while you kneel before him, like an altar of violence that you pray to.

"I know, Jason. I just -" You take a deep, shuttering breath.

"What, baby?"

"I thought I'd lost you… again. I just - I couldn't take it. I couldn't bear it." You laugh, then - a humourless, hysterical sort of thing. "All this time you've spent trying to protect me and you're the thing that ended up hurting me the most and… no, I - Jason, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I was just scared."

But Jason's already lurched away from you, letting go of your hands as if you've burned him and pulling back in a way that stretches his stitches and makes him wince. You, on the floor in front of him, made the infamous Redhood flinch, made him recoil in fear and self-hatred and pain.

"I didn't mean that, Jason," you say again, a firmness in your voice as you surge up onto your knees. Your hands aren't trembling now, he notices distantly, as you lean forward to take his face in your palms and press your forehead against his.

"I hurt you," he says numbly.

"No," you respond instantly. "Life hurt me… life hurt us both. That's not your fault. It's never been your fault."

Jason sighs wearily, letting his head fall forward so that his forehead is resting on your shoulder as his eyes slip closed. There's a dull, throbbing pain in his head and his side aches and he's choking on too much hatred to stop you when you press kisses to his palms and his knuckles and the side of his head that you can reach. 

There is too much weariness in him to stop you from loving him.

"Let's… go to bed," you say quietly, feeling the way he slumps against you as the fatigue begins to take its toll on him. "Come on," you coax. He lets you stand, takes your outstretched hand willingly as you guide him to bed. He lets himself sit on the edge of the mattress heavily, slouched over himself as you sit in front of him, a damp towel in your hands. 

Jason thinks of the irony of it all as he watches you take his hands in yours, wiping the blood from them that you left on him. Granted, it's still his blood, but you're the one who made a mess of it. He thinks of that as you finish cleaning him up, listens to the sounds of you scrubbing your own hands in the bathroom sink as he falls sideways into bed, haphazardly tugging the covers up around him.

When you finally slip into bed next to him, reaching out so that you can cling to him like a lifeline, he wonders if maybe the blood on his hands isn't such a big deal, after all. Maybe it's the blood loss talking, maybe it's the post-fight dizziness muddling his judgement. Or maybe there is something to be said for the two of you cleaning the blood off each other's hands… again and again and again.

[lightwing-s]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: there should be a clear hatred for those you fight against, but nobody told y/n and jason about it.

rating: 16+

word count: pasmem 8,2k warnings: sex jokes, heavy make out session, foreplay

a/n: it took me long, but i hope this long ass post makes up for all the time it took me to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one, as i had a lot o fun writing it, and please let me know what you think about it once you're done reading ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt ii

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

… Explosion at the Yacht Basin. The Tiffany is being exhibited. Hurry.

“Just two miles south.” Jason responded. “On my way.”

Speeding up his motorcycle on the busy and wet streets of Gotham, Jason makes a sudden u-turn and heads back in the opposite direction he was once going. Swerving around the cars, trucks and other motorcycles, he hears back honks and curse words be thrown at him, but he doesn’t care. The adrenaline has woken his body. He can even feel the air blowing on his face, even behind the scarlet helmet composing his vigilante outfit.

He had been starving for action all night. His body needed it. Bruce had been an asshole. Roy had been an even worse ass, and there were tons of other people that had been pissing him off all day. All this built up anger made his body beg for some sort of release, he needed this extra energy gone, and punching someone on the face seemed like a very plausible solution to his problem. 

Failing to follow his own mind, telling him to be more careful with his driving after the last incident — that had him not being able to rise from his bed from how much pain his body was in —, he drove so fast his speedometer was hitting it’s other end. He’d definitely get scolded for it at any minute by Barbara through the coms, and not being in the mood for that, he turned his communication off.

As he got closer to the marina, the smoke and fire became more and more evident through the gaps between all the skyscrapers surrounding the road. Pinkish flames flaring up here and there, climbing up the marina’s main building, and releasing smoke fuchsia toned. Upon that sight, Jason’s blood began to boil even hotter than it already was, and if possible, he sped up even more.

Recently, pink flames could only mean one thing in Gotham: Cupid. New psycho in town, got this name from Carmine Falcone himself, for her love to use crossbows and arrows and the hazed state his men were left by the mere sight of her face. Having had the displeasure of meeting her countless times, Jason knew her face pretty well, even if  she kept  it’s bottom mostly covered. And he was glad she did, as he could not stand the smirk planted on her lips as she managed to piss him off to no end.

She was a good thief, fast and stealthy, to the point one could have her in his hands but blink a little too slow and lose her to the shadows. Smart enough to keep herself out of the records for months, misdirecting her actions to random people, until one she had an accidental run into Robin and Spoiler when leaving Gotham’s Museum of Antiquities with a full bag of stolen artifacts and no sound coming from any of the alarms. 

Also, she was really annoying, knowing just the right things to say and do to get under Jason’s skin. And she would linger there for longer than he’d like to admit.

Also, she was really annoying, knowing just the right things to say and do to get under Jason’s skin. And she would linger there for longer than he’d like to admit.

Scared citizens still ran out of the building when he got there, coughing and barely being able to breath due to the exposure to the toxic smoke. Leaving them in the care of the firefighters that had arrived a bit sooner than he did, he darted inside. Knowing pretty well how his opponent worked at this point in time, he got to the room where he was certain he'd find her.

Displays of very expensive jewelry filled the otherwise empty room. It was dark, but the few lights that came in from the glass ceiling — from the moon, the street lamps and the fire burning outside — hit the jewels and the stones, who in turn reflected them beautifully making an almost perfect show of lights that could make many nightclub owners out there feel pretty jealous of the image they could never replicate. Almost perfect because right where he stood he could see the central piece of the exhibit was missing, the big yellow diamond out of sight.

No alarm sounds, no security system activated.

“Looking for this?” asked a voice from behind him, soft, sultry and mysterious. What wasn’t soft, though, was the clicking sound of a pistol unlocking and being settled at the nape of his neck. “Don’t worry, I won’t shoot. I like you too much to hurt you, Red. And also, I don’t want to ruin your face before I get the chance to see it with my own eyes.” 

“Give back the diamond, Cupid” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“Oh, they have so many here, they won’t notice I only took one.”

With a swift movement, Jason threw his arm back with force and locked Cupid’s arm under his own, making her drop the gun somewhere far he could only see through the side of his eyes. Now, facing the villain, he kept her arm tightly wrapped around his, somewhat careful to not hurt it while keeping  control of the situation.

“I thought guns weren’t your thing.” he said, tightening his hold and making her groan.

“I’m keen on exploring new kinks” she replied. “C’mon, Red! We don’t need this. We’re friends, I can send you a gift card once I sell this to the black market” and with an even quicker movement, Cupid released her arm from Red Hood’s grip and spun around, kicking at his face. Jason dodged it and threw a punch at her that she also skipped, though only for mere inches.

Hitting the back of his knee with another kick, the villain managed to make the hooded hero fall to his knees for a brief moment,  giving her an opportunity to run out of the room. Jason darted after her straight away, following her through the corridors and up the stairs, then reaching the glass ceiling of the exhibit. She ran with ease on top of the steel bars holding the glass up, opening a gap between the two of them as Jason, much larger and heavier,  had more difficulty in doing the same.

Soon, they exchanged the glass ceiling for a concrete roof when they got on top of the neighboring room. Chasing her dark suited body, he managed to shorten their distance a little when she jumped a small gap and fell onto another building, him not taking long and getting there as well. It was the main structure on fire, the heat from below reaching his forearms, the only part of his body left exposed, unprotected by his jacket.

“Into fire play, Cupid?”

“Ha!” she laughed at his joke, throwing her head back mid run. “Works as a great distraction.” she shrugged.

She was certainly faster than him, reaching the end of that building much sooner, lowering down and grabbing a bag that must have been left there beforehand. Out of it, she took her pistol sized crossbow and turned to him. Not wanting to get shot, Jason zigzagged his way to  her, trying to run as  fast as he could. 

After the sound of the weapon activating, an arrow flew right by his shoulder, cutting a string on his leather jacket. Strike one, thought the vigilante. Nobody does that to his jacket. 

This time aiming the gun at the higher building, she shot it and the arrow hooked on the stair house wall. Finally reaching the end of his run and almost at arm’s range with the thief, he jumped in her direction, trying to catch her mid flight, but only just touching the sole of her boots. She was up in the air, flying to the other building, and landed on it with gracious ease, as a pretty bird landed on someone’s finger.

“Pray to catch me, Red” she taunted him once she settled on the other side of the tall gap.

Groaning in frustration, he threw off his jacket, incredibly hot to the touch from being near the fire, and feeling a sting of pain hit his shoulder as he noticed a bleeding wound adrenaline didn’t allow him to see earlier in the same spot his sleeve had been laying on.

“Oh, Red.” she screamed at him, attracting his attention. “I swear you couldn’t turn me on more than you already did, but wow!” sliding her back down the wall of the stair house, she sat on the floor, her legs slightly spread in his direction.

“Shut up!” he screamed back, all his build up frustration sounding through it.

“Oooh come make me…” she moaned, throwing her head back, exposing her glistening neck. Anger blew through his nose, and standing on the edge of the roof, Jason took his grappling gun from his utility belt and aimed it at top of where her arrow still stood. Being soared into the air, he was mere inches from reaching the parapet when he felt his body lose all weight and descend to the floor. His heart fell just as hard, as he noticed the cut wire that once held him up slide right past his face.

However, when he thought the floor was his only destination at that point, strong arms held onto his own, keeping him from falling. 

“Thought I was gonna let you die in front of me?” questioned that same sultry voice.

“You fucking cut the wire! What did you want me to think?” he replied, grinding his teeth.

“I removed your hook from the wall” she corrected, matter of factly. “And I did it so we could have a little fun. It was getting boring up here. All alone”

The seductive way she finished her sentence made Jason’s voice put up and look directly  at her face. Her lowered eyebrows and the pout she had on her bottom lip — plumb, red and glossy ones — made his stomach turn. Strike two, I hate pouty lips.

Using his free arm to grab onto the railing, he forced his body up with her assistance. He put one of his legs over the parapet and managed to finally set his feet on the ground. He shouldn’t have been affected by what happened. He was used to heights, he knew he could shoot his grappling gun again, he knew nothing would happen. Yet, it did affect me. 

His heart was beating fast, his breath caught in his throat. Laying his hand on his tights, he tried to steady his it, to relax his shoulders, and ease his body back to normal. For a brief moment, he imagined himself falling into the fire, the image of being consumed by it scaring him way too much.

“Here, big boy. Take a seat” Cupid forced him on his butt and made him rest his head on the railing. “Jesus, you’re not into rope play? Noted.”

Clicking her tongue, she lowered herself to his level and placed one hand on his knee.

“Really… I want to kill you.” he shook his head, removing his hands from under hers.

“Thought your killing days were over, Red.” she stated, hands going to her waist. “Sadly, it’s not gonna be tonight you get to realize your dream.” 

Standing up and wasting no time, Cupid grabbed her crossbow, unloaded it and hit it against the back of his ear — or where she assumed it rested inside the helmet. The clicking of metal into metal echoed in his ears, making him lose his senses for a bit. 

It seemed like it wouldn’t stop, the sound reverberating under the helmet. He tried to stand up, but his balance was poor, nearly making him fall once again. Holding his head, he tried to stop the sound, but it was useless. Taking off the helmet was a no no, even if the clear best solution to his pain.

Deciding that loosening it might make the situation better, he pressed the button that would free his skull, but he did not remove the helmet from it’s place. Not long after, the agonizing noise came to a halt, his sight stopped spinning, and he finally could stand up just fine.

But Cupid was gone. Lost to the night, and not a single sign she was even up there with him at some point could be spotted around.

If he hadn’t accumulated frustration enough all night until this point, he was sure that now he had reached maximum storage. Punching the wall, he let go of some of it, but certainly not enough.

Three nights ago, Jason let Cupid escape. Three nights ago, Jason got scolded by Bruce for letting the Tiffany diamond go missing. Three nights ago, he could only think of one thing, and that thing has stayed in his mind ever since.

Tonight though, he would finally put an end to his mental torture.

The heavy sound of rain soon faded as he entered the batcave’s tunnel system, being then exchanged by the echoing sound of his engine against the hollow corridors. The darkness and the cold of that place once made him extremely uncomfortable, but after so long visiting those places, he felt embraced by it, and the solitude, the feeling of leaving the whole world behind, turning it off of his head,  made him feel at home.

Underground, he found the metro trails of Gotham’s subway system. This first one he spotted was from an old abandoned line, a new one had been set to finish its construction by the late 2000s, but that clearly did not reach that goal, now resting here, forgotten. 

Driving through the empty tunnels, following the directions his computer board had given him, and reaching the marked spot on his screen, he made his motorcycle come to a stop, turning it off, getting down from it and making the rest of his way on foot.

He didn’t really know what he was looking for, but he was warned by Oracle of an explosion caught by the radar. The smell of smoke was present during his ride, but there was no sight  of fire. Leaving his headlights on, it helped him find his footing around the area, where he could barely see the tubes and wires drawing parallel lines on the concrete walls, nor the weird engravings he had no idea who — and how — had put them  there. Standing still, he quieted his breathing and took some time to listen. 

The howling of the wind, the timed buzzing of electricity running through the cables and the distant sound of trains following their course filled Jason’s ear, but something else caught his attention. It was the slight sound of rocks moving to his left that made him turn around and face exactly who he wanted to see.

At the blink of an eye, he had her under his gun’s aim.

“Certainly, this terrain doesn’t favor me at all, does it Red?” she taunted, hands held up in the air like a culprit caught by the police. This time, she had her regular all black attire on, but had no mask and wore a hooded  jacket, much like his own. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

“Where’s the fucking diamond?”

“Sold to the black market. Is this all you can talk about?”

She was quick. She had to be, a diamond as expensive as the Tiffany wouldn’t last long in her hands if word got around she still had it for this long. He knew she had to have a buyer even before stealing it. Yet, Jason innocently thought he could have gotten to her before she managed to trade it.

“Didn’t know you were working for Cobblepot…” he questioned. He had been sent here because they knew Penguin was out and about, planning something for some time, but that they weren’t sure on what it was. Finding her here meant she was somewhat involved in his business, and he didn’t know why and how that was made possible.

“Working with Cobblepot” she cut him off, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And not by choice.”

“For what then? Doesn’t seem to me like he’s the best match for your skill set.” he commented, interested in knowing why this pairing was ever formed. Penguin was a crime boss who would steal everything and anything that could get him richer, and he had worked with some of the best along the years, although not the best partner they had ever had. Yet working alongside a Cupid seemed especially strange this time, as she had only been on their records for a couple months, and Penguin isn’t much keen on working alongside new flesh. And also, from the little bit he knew about her, she preferred working alone.

“For I have no other choice.” she answered, and he could have sworn her voice had a little crack somewhere between those words. “I guess I should’ve picked a buyer more carefully. Next time I try to sell some stolen goods I’ll have that in mind.” she threw her shoulders back and continued. “Beginners curse. I’ll learn things through time and find the right people who I can trust. I did find you after all, right Daddy?”

Say what?!  she caught him off guard. What did she just fucking call me?

“I’m not your fucking Da…” lowering his gun, grunting, he stoped himself from saying the last word.

“Oh? Why can’t you say it?” she mused, excited by his excitation from saying the word. “Say it!”

“Stop.”

“Say it, Red.” she challenged.

“No!” he screamed back, while she continued to taunt him. At a distance, his ears heard the succinct sound of a train coming in their direction and he started to notice the peebles jumping up on the ground. He also noticed Cupid standing right at the middle of the railing tracks. “Cupid, get out of there.”

He tried to plead, but she still happily sang to him to repeat the D word. 

“The train is coming! Do you want to die” he got closer, but nothing. She didn’t even flinch at the words train and coming being thrown at her.

“Y/n, move!” he screamed.

“Oh, you know my name?” her eyes widened as she seemed to have grown more excited at the thought he knew her identity. “Only fair you give me yours now.” 

Crossing her arms on her chest like a little child would do to its parents, she continued to ignore Red Hood’s pleas as the train announced itself to them by shining it’s lights in their direction.

“C’mon” he grunted, but she still didn’t move.

“Tell me your name” she sang. 

“Damn it, it’s Jason. Now fucking move.” He was desperate at this point, as she made no indications she was moving out of the way. Fearful, he started walking in her direction.

“Now, say dad-dy…”

“FUCK!” he screamed and rushed his steps. Getting to her, he jumped into the tracks and held her by the arms, dragging her alongside him out of the railway and onto the opposite wall, fast enough to have the train pass behind them and over the spot she was standing on a second later..

“Why didn’t you fucking get out?” he asked, completely exasperated, pushing her away from his hold.

“You wouldn’t let me die would you?” she pouted at him once more, aggravating his nerves and making him moan in frustration. Why is she so fucking difficult?

“I would kill you if I could.” he stated, getting closer to her face.

“What's holding you back? Papa bats wouldn’t let you?” 

Clenching his wrists, trying his best to not throw a punch at her yet and doing his best to hold his anger, he answers through gritted teeth. “I’m past that”

“A mature man”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re annoying”

“It’s a talent I’ve curated through the years.” she stated, proud of herself for being an irritating little shit.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he questioned, remembering his job and the orders he had received earlier.

“Ah…” she looked up, as if trying to remember herself. “Distracting you.”

“Huh?”

“Penguin is planning something tonight and told me to take you out of his way.” He didn’t notice she was this close, but her hands were not at his collar. She fixed something in his chest he failed to see a problem with, her hands sliding up and down his chest. 

Shit, Jason thought. He had to get back. 

Grabbing her wrist, he removed her hands from his jacket and threw them far away from him. Turning around, he was dead set into returning to the surface. “Oracle, this was a distraction. Penguin is…”

“...Robbing the entire exhibit  at the Yacht Club.  Yeah, we figured that out. Where were you? Everyone is heading there now.”

“I’m on my way too.” he cut the conversation short, running to his motorcycle.

“Hey, Jay?” he rolled his eyes at the sound of her voice, still walking to his vehicle and getting on top of it. “Could you give me a ride?”

“You gotta be kidding me” he whispered to himself. Looking back at her, arms on her side and big eyes innocencly staring at him, he really wondered if she was being serious or not. What was stopping him from giving her a ride and locking her up afterwards? In fact, that seemed like a very good idea to him. Having her right there, sitting behind him and holding his body, he could be sure she wouldn’t go anywhere…

“My my, you’re actually considering it?” she smirked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You should go, Red. The sooner you trap Penguin, the sooner I’ll be free.”

And turning her back to him, she disappeared into the darkness once again. This time, he made his way into the shadows right after.

By the time they all had got to the exhibit, the jewels were already gone. 

Penguin’s meticulously crafted plan was a success. He had each and every member of the family busy with different affairs, seemingly unrelated, and within large enough distances to the Yacht Basin, that if anyone was seen moving in its direction, they would have enough time to clear the area before they got there. And everything went as planned. 

They all wondered, how could they have been tricked like that? So under their noses, so obvious looking on the outside. Yet, they were played like little children.

“We are trying to keep this out of the news until we understand how it all happened. The National Museum won’t be happy with this.”

“We’re working on getting as much information as possible, Commissioner. Penguin can’t have gone too far, this fast.” Batman stated. “These jewels are still in Gotham, and we’ll find them.”

“Good. Otherwise the mayor is gonna want both our necks hanging by morning.” Commissioner Gordon replied, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge and fishing for a cigar he knew he had hid somewhere inside his coat’s pocket.

Hearing their conversion from a few feet away, Jason and Dick watched as the two of them said their goodbyes, and Bruce, in his mighty black cape and cowl,  made his way towards the two standing in the corner.

“Are you sure the jewels are still in the city?” Dick questioned, a subtle hint of doubt hidden in his voice, but not daring yet to completely cut this theory out of the question.

“No planes or ships were spotted on the radars. Fleeing the city with millions in gold and jewelry is not going to be easy after the police closed all road exits.” looking back at the Commissioner for a moment, he continued. “Barbara responded that all cameras at the Yacht club were conveniently turned off earlier. But she got a hold of the street vigilance records and caught a truck with suspicious actions coming and going down the street that leads here.”

Walking between Dick and Jason, he ignored their questioning looks and continued.

“I’m taking the batmobile back to the cave. Gather more information on the truck’s route and possible destinations. I need you two on the streets, be my eyes and ears. If anything happens, you need to call me. Immediately” he demanded, blending with the shadows and making his way out of this place, leaving the two brothers all alone.

“I can’t believe Harley was with Penguin on this one.” he heard Dick start. “I was so sure she was trying to break the Joker out of Arkham again. I only realized something was wrong when she was taking too long to take some action .”

His brother’s little adventure with Harley Quinn was at the bottom of the list of things he was interested in at the moment. While he continued to ramble  about it, his mind was constantly drawn back to the tunnels and to her.

The way she could get under his skin so easily was something he couldn’t figure out how and why happened. There was only one other person who could do it as easily, but the Joker had killed him in the past, making the reason for his hatred for the Clown Prince of Gotham completely reasonable. On the other hand, he had only known Cupid for some time, met her less than his finger could count, and she really had not done anything more than antagonize him and actually save his life once.

And also, she was kinda hot. It irked him tremendously to even have thoughts  about this, but he had to be honest with himself and admit — to him only, and nobody else — that he did have a small, very slight, very little, thing for Y/n. But that was all physical, he only thought she was insanely attractive. She could work her body and her words, clearly, and he was just stupidly  weak to have fallen for charm.

“What did he do to keep you away?” Dick asked, having Jason’s attention back to him.

Jason considered if he really should tell his brother or not of what kept him away for so long. He had joked before about how much he seemed to find her out during patrol, and how she often got the best of him, leaving him empty handed. When they found out her real identity, Dick caught a glimpse at how Jason stared at her pictures a lot longer than he usually would. 

Coming to a conclusion, he answered without shame. “Cupid.”

Just by hearing her name, Dick’s smile spread on his face, although he’d keep trying to hold it back, his mind getting funny ideas of what the two of them were doing down in the underground.

“It seems like you’ve been finding each other quite a lot recently,” he stated.

“Uh-huh” Jason hummed, agreeing with him but limiting himself to a short and final answer, knowing pretty well where this conversation would go if he stood around for too long. Ignoring anything else Dick had to tell him, he mounted his bike and drove away to work on finding the jewelry truck.

Hours later, when the sun was getting close to coming out of hiding, Jason stood under a railroad bridge, quietly watching the rain fall harshly down the sky and form large puddles on the asphalt. He had been riding his motorcycle all night, looking for that truck or any other indication of Penguin’s work. He drove and drove, but got nothing.

Now, standing there, he had difficulty keeping his eyes open. He awaited something. Something to happen to bring energy back into his night. Something to keep him busy and away from his own thoughts that had been torturing him all that time.

The rain hitting the metal structure over his head was soothing, and did not help his attempts to not fall asleep. Sometimes, a vehicle would pass by his spot and jolt him awake, or water accumulated somewhere would fall down all at once, making a huge noise out of nowhere. Other times, he’d hear mice or the sounds of footsteps coming up top, but would see nobody, animal or human, out there.  Worst of all was when trains would pass by the bridge and make everything in a two mile radius to shake.

Tired mind meant thinking of things he wouldn’t want to think about when his mind was properly awake. He closed his eyes and could hear the sultry sound of her voice, or smell the spicy scent of her perfume. He needed to see her again. He needed to let off some steam, all that stored frustration. He needed to see her and make sure she had forgotten about his name. Remembering he did that, he threw his head back and released a heavy sight. It was stupid to have said it, and he didn’t know why he kept doing stupid shit whenever she was around. 

Feeling safe in the loneliness, he took off his helmet and got some much needed fresh air. He leaned forward and laid his head down on his motorcycle’s panel, ready for a nap. Bruce wouldn’t notice. Penguin must have already left the city somehow and this whole night of waiting was for absolutely nothing.

Losing to tiredness, he began to dream of meeting Y/n and talking to her again.  But the dream wasn’t long, because when he was getting to the good part, something made him jump out of his sleep.

“Is the night too much for the incredible Red Hood?” asked a voice he did not recognize and who he could not see, hiding from the lights, but who he felt came from right behind him. The voice was followed by the sound of two, or was it three, sets of footsteps approaching him.

“Or did that arrowed cunt give you the kiss of death too?” joked another voice, clearly familiar with the first one. Jason still could not see them yet, but knew very well where they stood.

“Are you guys scared to come out of the dark?” he taunted them. “It’s easy to tell me shit when I can’t see who I’m supposed to be fighting with.”

“Isn’t this guy is fucking cocky, Dan?” the second voice commented.

“How many of your friends have left with all working limbs after finding me during a night at their job?” Jason inquired, smirking at the men in the darkness, proud of his high rate of beat down assholes.

“One as many punches I’ll be gifting your face tonight.” one of them replied.

“Then come and get me.” he challenged, arms open in a call for battle. 

Upon his call, two tall men left their place in the shadows and ran in his direction. One of them was skinny, and held what Jason identified as a knife in his hands. The other, smaller and a bit heavier, had something shining between the base of his fingers. Standing up from his bike, he cracked his neck, his arms and his fingers, waiting for the action to finally reach him and he slowly paced towards the two guys. Action was on again, baby.

The fact that he was outnumbered did not bother Jason in the slightest, as he defended himself with ease. The other two, although pretty confident when they ran towards him thinking they could give him some bruises, soon found out that defeating the Red Hood was no easy task.  Their confidence was rapidly gone. 

He managed to divide them. Turning to fight the first one, he grabbed him by his collar, threw him at a metal pillar, causing an echoing sound to reverberate around them, and the man to fall hard on the ground, grunting on the floor and touching his own his to check if they were okay. Now, changing his attention to the other man, he couldn’t find him at first glance, but saw this one trying to sneak around his back and hit him on the head with a large pipe he had found somewhere. Being a smarter fighter, Jason followed him by the noise he was making by breathing, walking and simply existing in around him. Jason knew exactly where he was and avoided the hit. Then, he grabbed the man’s hand and spun his arm around till it made a loud cracking sound and the guy made an even louder and painful scream.

“How many punches did you say you’d give me again?” Jason shrugged. Not a single drop of sweat in his body.

The moaning and groaning of the two guys on the floor were like a symphony to his ears, the perfect credit song for one of his favorite action sequences. Wanting to leave, he looked for his helmet as he didn’t see it where he had left it above his bike. Not on the floor either, and also not rolling to the street.

“Took ill on Thursday, Grew worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday”

The words came out of a third voice, perhaps the third pair of steps he had heard along the men’s. But different from the two idiots on the floor, this one definitely activated his fight or flight instincts.

“Solomon Grundy, born on a monday.” The big shadow of the creature turned into flesh and bone, red helmet in hands. Breaking the item as if he was breaking glass, the angry monster threw pieces on the floor, stepped on them with his bare feet and with heavy steps made his way to the Red Hood. “Solomon Grundy, born on a monday”

“Oh shit!” Jason exclaimed as the zombie-like walked closer. “Long time no see, buddy.”

As if disgusted by the nickname, Grundy darted towards Jason, who then ran towards the street in hopes to get more space to fight the big guy. He also hoped the wet asphalt could somehow aid him  in bringing down the creature. He deviated several punches, while his own hit the spot a couple of times, but apparently didn’t cause his enemy much pain. Kicking the back of his knees, he made Grundy lose some balance and fall to his knees, giving Jason enough time to think of a plan.

Looking back at his bike, still where he was sitting under the bridge, he decided that the best plan was making a run for it and trying to escape. He didn’t know what and why had Grundy so mad and out of the sewers tonight, as he rarely left his safe spot, but he also didn’t want to stay any longer to figure that out.

“You work for Penguin too, Grudy?” he jokingly asked, making a run to his motorcycle. “Thought of you as better than that.”

“Solomon Grundy… works for nobody” he answered, punching the ground with both of his hands right at the place where Jason had just been standing. Almost out of the street, a car suddenly passed by — for what reason? — and blocked his way, and then another car showed up. Why are all those people driving towards Solomon Grundy? Have they all gone mad?

When he was too worried  about the cars and the stupid people driving them, Jason didn’t notice when Grundy approached him and hit him right in his jaw, making him fly across the street. There on the floor, his head spun and everything went blurry as he tried but could not pull himself up from the ground. Damn it, he needed to get out of there.

Getting to his feet, lord knows how, and stumbling to make his way to where he wanted, he heard the swift swish of projectiles flying by his ears, who were then followed by Grundy’s screams and complaints. Two. Three. Four more things hit him, but somewhat running with a spinning head had Jason’s vision go everywhere but nowhere at the same time. 

As if that wasn’t enough, suddenly the honking of a car and a pair of headlights were in his face, as he felt the floor shaking from the heavy steps that were also heading his way. Trying to rush, he nearly fell onto the floor yet again, but a loud crash sounded through the whole street and something knocked him down.

His vision was getting darker, and all voices sounded distant, but this one he still could hear clearly.

“Stay with me, Jason. Don’t close your eyes”told him the voice, this time it was soft and sultry. He felt his entire body ache, and his eyes couldn’t stay open even if she begged him. “Hey, Jay.” she called him again, tapping his cheeks with care to try to keep him awake. “Stay with me, please. Stay awake.”  

But it was too late. Soon, everything was black.

.

His head banged with pain. Really, it hurt like crazy. It was not the best sensation to wake up to. His vision still hadn’t settled too, still spinning as he last remembered them. He tried to inspect the room he was in, but he couldn’t identify where he was. He woke up god knows where, but the real question in his mind was in how he got there.

Remembering everything that happened before he blacked out, Jason tried to stand up from the bed he was laid on, noticing his missing shirt and the curatives glued to his chest. He sat at the tip of the cushion, placing his bare feet on the cold floor.

The small room he was in had only the bed he was on and a small table by its side, but it was randomly adorned with small plants, colored glass decorations and a pile of old books at one corner. This didn’t look like neither his or his brother’s home, and it was too small to be anywhere inside the manor. This also did not look like a cell, or a hostage room. It felt too cozy for that.

Gosh, he thought, placing his head on his hands and massaging his temples, I’m knackered.

Forcing his body to comply with his mind, he stood up on his feet, but it immediately felt weak and fell backwards onto the bed.

“Easy, Red” someone rushed beside him, holding his sides to check if he was okay. “You’re still dizzy from all the pain medication I gave. I must admit, I’m not the best doctor you could find.”

“Hmm?” he grunted, confused when he recognized the voice.

“Baby, you were knocked out and saved by Grundy last night. If he didn’t jump after you, you’d have been smashed by that car, like a smashed potato!Jason.” Y/n explained as her face was becoming clear in his eyes. “And I have to be honest here, after finally seeing your face after this long, I can tell you it’d have been a real waste if all of that had happened.”

When this fell to his ears, his hands shot up to his face, noticing his domino mask gone. 

“Where am I?” he asked, still groggy.

“At my place.” 

“You had the courage to take me to your home?” he questioned, incredulous. Putting her index finger on her lips, she requested. 

“Don’t tell anybody.”

“Wh-what…”

“Relax. Just let me check your bruises now that you’re up.” she cut him, grabbing a pastel yellow bag from the table next to the bed, pushing his arms away and settling herself on his lap.

Not believing what was happening, Jason could only stare at her wide eyed as she removed his hair away from his forehead, and cleaned the cuts on his face with a cotton ball. 

She was uncomfortably close. Dangerously close to him, and he didn’t know how to react. Her face was mere inches from his, and, as she continued to clean his bruises, he could feel her hot breath hitting his face. He had to blink once, or twice, or thrice, to try to recollect himself and to try and push her away from his lap, but she hooked her lean legs tightly around his waist, silently telling him she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t touch me.” he complained, trying to keep his face away from her touch by awkwardly throwing it back.

“How am I supposed to bandage you up if I can’t touch you?” she rolled her eyes, but he could see a smile gracing her face. Her arms on her hips, she finally had a chance to get a proper look at what she was wearing. She had on a gray tank top and jean shorts that barely covered her legs and left her beautiful tights on display for him to see… and touch, as he placed his hand on top of them “involuntarily”.

“Then get off me” he replied through his gritted teeth.

Pissed off, she straightened her back and looked right into his eyes. Jason suddenly felt small as she proceeded to challenge him. 

“Make me.” 

And when she didn’t get a response from him, nor a shake of his head or a noise from his throat, she smirked back at him, going back to tending to his wounds.

Jason stood there, quietly and still, watching as she cared for his wounds with utmost concentration. When she was done cleaning his face and chest, after carefully removing the curatives that had been protecting his scratches there, she fished for some medicine to apply on him. She had put everything on the bed, all at an arm's distance so she wouldn’t need to leave his lap to grab anything until she was done.

He winced when she applied an antibiotic cream on his cuts and he felt the itching starting, but she scolded him to get himself together and let her finish with the rest. When he still showed agony on his face, she blew at the spots and softened his pain.

There, on top of him, she was constantly moving. He could feel her crotch sliding against his own, making his mind go places where it shouldn’t be going right now. His hands started sweating, and he tried to clean them on his pants, before placing them again on her legs. 

“A-hem” he fake coughted, trying to get her attention. She simply shushed him.

Moving on top of him once again, slightly rising herself from his lap and standing with her knees on the bed, her boobs were then leveled with his eyes. He tried to look away, out of respect, after all he was still raised to be a gentleman, but he lost battle to his worst side, it getting control of him as he threw some glances at her cleavage. 

Still on her knees, she lost a bit of balance, almost falling on her back if Jason’s strong hands weren’t at her back ready to steady her back into his lap. A soft thanks left her lips, something that shouldn’t have made his mind go mad, but lord help him, he was going insane.

He was entranced by her. By her beauty, by her kind touch. By her hot breath and the soft smell of coconut shampoo emanating from her hair. He watched her bite her bottom lip in concentration, sometimes switching habits and sucking her cheeks in as she focused on the task at hand. 

“Done.” she announced, smiling at him briefly before taking the medicine bag and organizing the bottles, sprays, tubes and bandages inside.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He couldn’t look away. And he also couldn’t let her go too far, growing needy of her touch and presence. Growing addicted to finally having her this close. His hands pressed tighter around her waist and tights, impeding her from moving any further.

“You can let me go now, Jason.” And the way she pronounced his name. Oh, the way she pronounced his name. It sounded as if an angel sang him the prettiest of lullabies, or as if the devil seductively listed him all of the most delicious things the world had to give. Her plump lips moved and he got hypnotized.

“I want to kiss you.” he stated, without really thinking of what he was doing.

“You’re drunk on the meds.” she joked.

“No” he shook his head, sitting up straight and getting dangerously close to her face. His lips lingering over hers. They stared at each other's eyes like they were both hypnotized by each other. Nah, they were hypnotized. Their eyes were low but never leaving the other, their breaths mixing together.

Placing a hand on her neck, thumb caressing patterns on her skin, Jason tangled his fingers on her hair and pushed her down onto him. Their mouths collided with each other and moved in perfect synchrony, in the wettest of kisses. Her arms wrapped around his neck, but didn’t stay there for long, as she felt the need to have them all over his muscular chest.

His tongue soon begged for entrance, and she allowed him in without any reluctance. 

His hands also roamed her body, desperate to touch her every inch. He drew lines up and down her back, lifting her top all the way to where it reached her bra. He played with its hook as their mouths still danced in the most intense kiss, and unlocked it before she even noticed. He was desperate to take her shirt off, but he didn’t break the kiss. However, hard things had to be done to achieve greatness. 

Finally breaking the kiss, he took her shirt off over her head and tried to do the same with her unhooked bra, but her arms locked on her side stopped him from doing it. Before he had a chance to complain, she closed the gap between their lips again, restarting the fire they had briefly put off.

They didn’t let go of each other. There was no need for space, or air. They were consumed by the other taste, the smell, the touch. Starved, actually. Jason was starved. He didn’t know he craved her this bad until he had her in his arms, until her hands roamed all over his body and her hips gridded against his cock with fast movements. When she broke the kiss for air once more, he pouted his lips and she let out a laugh.

“Easy, boy.” she mocked, but soon threw herself on top of him again, laying him down on the bed, scratching his nude chest with her nails, the pain making his pants feel even tighter. As her hands got lower, they soon got to his waist line, where the tightness was making go crazy, agony climbing up his spine anxiously waiting for his release. She played around with the button of his jeans, teasing his patience, caressing his dick over all that fabric. It felt like torture, just as she liked. She like to torture him so bad, and he always knew it. Her hands were full, his side filling them completely, and they kept working their way up and down, often combining the movements with the tightening of her grasp around it and driving him so close to release without even having his member freed. 

He was so close, gosh, so close. But then she stopped, his eyes instantly opening as he looked after hers, begging her for an explanation. 

“You should rest.” she answered his grunts in complaint, getting off his lap and standing up between his opened legs. He quickly sat up from the bed too, grabbing at the base of her ass, desperately not wanting her to leave him. “I thought you wanted to kill me” she rested her forehead on his, joking at his change of behavior within just a few hours.

“I’m way past my killing days” he said, still out of breath.

She looked him in the eyes once more, staring deep into them. They didn’t hold longing anymore, there was no desire. Instead, her look was soft, warming. He felt safe under it, all his fire suddenly, but not completely, gone. Hooking her bra, she then reached for her shirt he had thrown right behind his back when they were still attached by their mouths. Having to lower herself a little bit to grab it, she provocatively placed her chest right down his nose. Still pumped with desire, Jason kissed the exposed part of her breast, feeling their warmth envelop his wet lips.

“When the effects of the meds are gone” she started, holding his head up by his chin, making him look to her eyes once more. “We can decide if we want to keep playing or not.”

Taking his hands away from her legs, she moved away from him without breaking eye contact. She grabbed a bottle out of the table, taking out of it a small pill. Putting it between her teeth, she walked to Jason, him immediately holding the base of her ass again, and lowered her head so their lips touched one more time. She allowed the pill to drop into his mouth, and as she broke the kiss, he swallowed it alongside all this frustration he could not seem to let off. 

Walking out, she left him alone. 

He dropped on the bed. Head going back to just moments ago, when she was on top of him and he felt… deep. He felt… he felt his consciousness leave his body. He felt his lids falling, too heavy for him to keep open. He felt it all change, from color to black, once again.

“So, you’re alive?” Dick questioned as Jason stood up for his sofa, protecting his eyes from the sunlight.

Jason was confused. So, was that all a dream?

.

[artiststarme]

There wasn’t much left for Eddie in Hawkins after the events of that harrowing Spring Break. He woke up in the hospital to an empty room filled with pain. His broken ribs creaked and aches with each breath, a result of three rounds of CPR delivered by Steve’s hands he later found out, and even moving took all of his energy, a consequence of excessive blood loss via bat attack.

Before he could get his bearings, a flurry of government officials, cops, and mobs brimming with hatred surrounded him. Instead of being grateful for his miraculous survival like the kids were, they shoved him in a jail cell. He spent two weeks in a jail cell, being punished for a crime he didn’t commit and suffering nightmares on top of the already nightmarish situation.

Even when he’s freed from his cell due to Hopper’s demands and the righteous fury of both Steve and Robin, he’s only released into the prison of Hawkins. He had to stay in his trailer day in and day out to avoid people’s revenge and beatings. The kids were barred from seeing him by their parents, too afraid to have their children associating with the monster that might’ve killed those poor teens.

Wayne got fired from the plant after facing backlash and discrimination due to being related to “The Murdering Satantic Worshipper”. Soon enough, both Munsons were pariahs. Jobless, ridiculed, and harassed by the town they’d lived in for years, they had no real choice but to leave.

But when Eddie told Steve they were leaving, Steve refused to be left behind. He’d lost relationships in the past due to not fighting enough, he wouldn’t make the same mistake. When the time comes, Eddie, Wayne, and Steve pack up their vehicles and make their way out of the town that never understood them. One day, they might go back but until then, they would live the best lives they could in the only way they knew how. Together.

[haveihitanerve]

“I bet you wished I’d never been born at all huh?!?” 

The words were loud and harsh and hurtful. Angry and demanding and cruel. Bruce flinched away from them, from the cruel hatred, the hurt, the anger in his sons eyes. Dick’s eyes blazed with fire, but even he seemed taken aback at the pure vitriol he had just spewed.

“You don’t even love me anymore, do you?” He added bitterly, and Bruce felt something inside him, probably his heart, crumble, as Dick’s shoulders slumped. He had given up. Given up on them, on this, on Bruce. And, well… Bruce couldn’t blame him.

“I-” But their screams had attracted attention. Dick went down. “NIGHTWING!” Bruce’s scream was like a gunshot itself, and the criminal fled, not before a batarang lodged in his back.

“Night, chum, baby please,” Bruce begged, cradling his son to his chest. “Oracle! Alert Agent A and Leslie. Please.” His voice broke and Barbara didn’t even answer, his fingers already clacking away, phone dialing. Bruce scooped his son into his arms, so big and yet it felt like he was only eight again, and jumped to the Batmobile, breaking at least seven laws in his rush to get home.

Dick didn’t wake for two weeks. Bruce never left his side.

When he finally opened his eyes, blinking blearily in the bright lights, he was still there, eyes closed, holding his hand. “Bruce?” Dick rasped slowly, pushing himself upright. Bruce’s eyes flew open and he was immediately pressing his son down again, grabbing a few extra pillows to help him sit upright instead.

Bruce handed him a glass of water, and his son drank it greedily, though his eyes remained on Bruce. “You’ve been… unconscious for two weeks.” Bruce said into the silence, listing the facts, his eyes focused on his feet.

“The goon that got you has been… taken care of. You should be able to move again in a few days, once Leslie looks you over and..” He was rambling. Bruce paused. Took a breath.

“I do love you, by the way.” It was the most pressing thing he needed to address. The thing he needed Dick to know. His son sat up straighter in surprise. “A- as much as I’m capable of loving anyone.” Bruce continued, kneading his hands together. “Which is… never enough.” He finally looked up, quiet. Sad. “I’m sorry.”

Dick reached for his hand, linking their fingers together. “I- I’m sorry too. I shouldn't have… said that. I- I know you love me Bruce.” He smiled, a small smile, a smile Bruce had almost forgotten existed.

His small, but truly happy smile. It had been on his face constantly when he had been younger. When he had been Robin and it had been just the two of them. When Bruce had been a good father.

“I was just…” He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “Its hard B. It is. This. Us. Its hard. But I- but I want to keep this. Us. I want us Bruce. You struggle with stuff, and so do I. But… I love you. And… and you love me. And well,” He shrugged helplessly.

“What more can you ask for right?”

“A better father.” Bruce murmured quietly. Dick shrugged again.

“I don't get to choose that. Neither do you. And… you’re not perfect Bruce,” He smiled teasingly. “But neither am I. And, well,” He laughed, squeezing Bruce’s hand with his own.

“I never needed a perfect father. I just needed you.” 

[redhead-batgal]

Hey , I recently read your Damian Wayne one shot called she's so gone and I was wondering if you were going to make a part 2 . I absolutely loved it and would love to read a part 2 and I look forward to seeing more of your stories and if you don't write a part please tag me in a post that u are not gonna write part 2 I would really appreciate it. And awesome stories btw .☺️❤️

Type: Two-Shot (Part One: Here)

Pairing: Fem! and Best Friend! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin

Word Count: 7,462

Content: angsty, angsty times, arguing, confrontation babes, the sis is back, maybe some PDA, amazing friend! Jon Kent, fluffies????, language, violence, self-deprecating reader thoughts, batfam supporting reader, and aged up reader/Damian to 18 yrs

(P.S: Sooooo, yeah, I hope y'all enjoy this chaos cuz it may or may not get intense at some point but like.... you did ask for this, however y'all will like the ending I promise)

(P.P.S: Forgive me I'm really really bad at writing PDA)

Y/N: your name, S/n: Sister's name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is something hollow and empty in heartbreak. Some emptiness that consumes everything in a twirling barreling black hole that destroyed anything that entered its orbit. Transforming the raw and fierce emotions into a numb and darkness that overtook and elapsed time and almost even life itself. It was almost like a never-ending wave, water pounding in ears and honing the sound of a beating heart. Something about that feeling that was almost...addictive.

Though this feeling- this destruction was oh so painful. Part of you- part of you clung to it. Maybe it was because these horrible and draining emotions helped you focus on something other-other than the betrayal and other then... other than your inadequacies. After all, Damian wouldn't have chosen S/N right? if you have been better if you had been greater, if you had just been more, maybe- just maybe he wouldn't have left- he wouldn't have abandoned you.

These thoughts had you up at night despite the heartbreak roaring through your mind. It made adjusting to your new life in Metropolis so much harder. And even though you had developed a poker face of sorts, your new roommate Jon Kent always seemed to know when you were struggling.

It wasn't as though he could read your mind or that he had any feelings for you, but more as that he knew you so well. He was, in a sense, the sibling- the brother you had needed. A person to rely on and to confide in. It was surprising how willing Jon was to listen to your woes despite the fact that he was close friends with Damian. Despite the fact that he knew your sister, he knew her well, he still listened to everything that had happened and your point of view of it all.

It was even more surprising that he comforted you. Not in a soft way, but in the ruffling of hair and saying that your family, your sister and even Damian didn't deserve you. Before continuing with even if you really are annoying. You had laughed, tears spilling from your eyes before nodding.

Regardless of Jon's comments and the quiet messages of encouragement from Oracle saying she won't tell Damian where you were at and that you were in the right, your mind still scrambled and screamed.

It's all your fault

he left because you aren't good enough

you should have died that night

These swirls of terror overtook you at the worst of times. In the dead of night when you were all alone; in crowded rooms at parties Jon had convinced you to go to; even in your sleep. Yanking you from the one peace and bliss you had to the roaring of self-hatred and scorn. And today was no different.

Just as the soft hues of light brushed the horizon, your mind bellowed and twisted, pulling you from sweet dreams of the past you longed to return to.

Partially panting you sat up, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you intertwined a hand into your hair. Squeezing your eyes shut you focused on your racing heart instead of the thoughts that fought to be known.

Moments later there was a knock on your door. Sighing heavily, you slipped from bed and walked over to the door. Opening it with a weak wave you turned back towards your bed. In the doorway Jon stood a worried look on his face.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, having clearly been awoken by your frantic episode.

"I guess, I mean nothing out of the ordinary is happening." You grumbled in reply, rubbing your brow.

There was silence between the two of you and Jon walked into your room flopping onto your bed with a slight grunt, "So all the fun times?"

"Of course, what else would you expect from me?"

Jon laughed slightly and you sank onto the ground leaning your head half against the bed, half against Jon's leg. Something stirred and shifted in you and closing your eyes you muttered a question,

"Do-do you hear it too?"

"Your voices? no, I think those are your special friends."

Shooting him a glare of sorts you swatted at his leg, and he chuckled before letting out a soft yawn. There was more silence before he sighed.

"Okay, okay you're serious... yeah. I do. I mean it's not like what you're going through but I hear the doubts and negative thoughts too."

Something about his words made you want to protest, to say it wasn't that bad, or really untrue. Something also struck a match in your chest, alighting warmth and comfort and something almost burst.

Swallowing back your tears you leaned back a bit to see his face before you continued.

"So... I'm not crazy or awful for having voices tell me all the bad things I've done?'

Jon snorted and you had to resist the urge to punch him. He sits up glancing down at you before sighing dramatically.

"No, that doesn't make you crazy. You are perfectly crazy all on your own."

With that a wave of relief came over you as you jumped to your feet. Jon rose and you pushed at him a smile of sorts on your face. He gasped dramatically before reaching out to push you back. You dodged his hands as laughter began to build in your chest.

"oh, it is so on." Jon muttered and a laugh escaped you.

Turning you skidded out of your room, avoiding Jon's attempts to push you as you hurried down the hall into the kitchen. Your feet slid across hardwood floors almost gliding when your foot caught on a chair leg, and you practically flew forwards, your face slamming straight onto the ground.

A bit of pain raced over you, but it was familiar enough for you to know that the most you would have is a bruise.

There was silence, then roaring laughter and you hazily pushed yourself up to see Jon cackling. His hand pressed to his stomach as he laughed at your fall.

"You are such a dick." You mumbled as you pushed yourself up.

Jon did not seem to care and continued to laugh. You rolled your eyes before pushing yourself to your feet. His laughter seemed to halt as you turned towards him. He paused, weakly smiling, "Is this the part where I run?"

Smiling slowly, you tilted your head and shrugged.

"It can be; however I am willing to negotiate."

He hesitated, eyes going wide as he looked around the room clearly noticing the hardwood floors and his feet in socks.

"Ah okay, uhm how does hot chocolate sound?"

You narrowed your eyes taking a step forwards, Jon's hands went out and he blinked a few times taking a step back.

"And a donut or pastry or whatever you like."

You took another step forwards and Jon flinched raising his hands to cover himself as he squeaked out,

"From Nonna's!"

You hesitated, recalling the Italian woman's small cafe and all the baked goods inside. Including her delightful assortment of drinks.

"I want extra whipped cream on my drink and a bag of stuff."

Jon paused, looking up at you slowly, his eyes narrowed, "Is that all?"

You thought for a moment and nodded, "Yes."

He held out a hand slightly shaking, and you grinned, "Deal."

After a somewhat civil handshake, you took a step back feeling something warm in your chest.

"I'll get my shoes and coat!"

Bounding back to your room you grabbed a pair of shoes and a coat before practically skipping back into the kitchen. Jon had his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, a strange look on his face. As you pulled your coat and shoes on you approached him.

"Ready?"

He hesitated, making eye contact with you and blanching. He cleared his throat, eyes darting towards the front door.

"I- i I uh... I don't think going now is a good idea-"

You rolled your eyes, "You promised, we are going no backing out, we shook on it!"

But something about his hesitance made your stomach churn, pins and needles beginning to bounce on your chest.

Jon opened his mouth to say something else and you walked over to the door, your hand resting on the handle when something escapes him.

"Wait!" He almost squeaks.

You hesitated for a moment before looking back to the door and slowly opening it. An empty hallway stood before you and you tilted to show Jon. Snorting a laugh at his surprise you scrunched up your nose giving him a teasing look, hoping to make him roll his eyes- or at the very least stop his nervous behavior.

"Does the big bad empty space scare you Little Johnny?" You asked in a voice you'd use on a child.

Jon seemed to relax, his shoulders dropping and air leaving him as he stared at the doorway; clearly not registering your taunt. A second passed before his head snapped in your direction and he narrowed his eyes.

"Seriously? Little Johnny?"

You shrugged, "What else am I supposed to call you? Your name???"

This made him laugh, which calmed the buzzing on your chest and churning in your stomach. Yet, something about the look in his eyes made the pins and needles dig deeper, moving to the back of your neck and shoulders.

Jon moved towards you and the door, seeming more relaxed than before but... something seemed off. However, you didn't know Jon well enough to know what exactly that meant.

He gestured out the doorway smiling slightly, "Shall we?"

Pausing you nodded, a slur of worries being pushed back in your mind as you smiled, "Of course!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly, despite the early hour, Nonna's was in fact open. You were not in fact Nonna's first customers; however, you were able to get your order in. You had to wait but waiting for Nonna's goodies was worth it.

Though, Jon was acting a bit odd. Looking at his phone frequently as he shifted from one foot to the other, eyes darting to the door every once in a while. After nearly ten minutes of this behavior, you were suspicious. Elbowing his side, you tilted your head and opened your mouth to ask him what was going on when Nonna called out your name. You moved to get your order, smiling at Nonna from behind the counter.

"Here's what you asked for piccolina, I added some extra's since you and that patatino," She gestured to Jon who was staring at the door frozen, "over there are looking a little thin."

You nodded smiling, as you took your bag and hot chocolate from her, happy for the food but worried as the pins and needles stabbed into your neck and shoulders, dancing around your heart.

"Buongiorno Nonna."

"Torna Presto, Piccolina!"

Nonna beamed as she moved on to her next customer. Turning back towards Jon you moved towards him, brow furrowed as you stopped at his side.

"What the heck, are you okay Jon?"

He didn't reply, instead he stiffed as the bell to Nonna's rang. His eyes locked on who just entered as he took a breath in slowly. Confused, you looked to see what was making him so still.

Standing in the doorway, disheveled and sweating was none other than Damian Wayne. The two of you made eye contact and you felt the air and color leave you. Heart hammering, you froze for a singular moment, long enough to see the recognition and relief in his eyes.

Something warm blossomed in your chest, a wave of joy that wrapped around your throat. It squeezed at your heart as a bitter taste coated your tongue and you weakly took a breath in. He was here, he was here. It was almost instinctual to lean in and hug him. To start some sort of physical contact as if you make sure he was here-truly here. Then the tight pulsing of your veins and breathing of your lungs yanked you back into reality. He- he had betrayed you, he- he had abandoned you. Pulling back, you squeezed your hand into a fist, eyes raking over him before noticing the movement just beyond his shoulder. No, the person behind him. She looked a little frazzled, but still as perfect as ever. Looking back to Damian the sluggish feeling of betrayal up your spine.

A wave of emotions fierce and roaring climbed up your throat as you backed away from the door. For a moment you couldn't breathe, and the world was spinning as a realization crashed down around you.

He was here.

Why was he here? Why did he have to come just as you were starting to get numb to all those emotions? Why did he have to come after you just made it past an episode? Why did he come? Why? Why?!

Swallowing you pushed back your worries and fears, back the questions and pain. Gripping your hot chocolate tighter as you let out a slow breath, then you began walking towards the door. Hoping your nonchalant attitude would make them ignore you or so baffled you could slip past. As you made it to the doorway, you began to slide towards the street, outside of the store-the place with no escape, to the open and free air that allowed you the opportunity to turn and leave.

Unfortunately, your hopes were in vain. A hand clamped down on your arm, pulling you in. And you blinked, looking to find Damian Wayne practically towering next to you. Eyes frantically racing over your face and body, worry covering every feature as you felt his heavy breaths on your skin. Hell, his heaving chest nearly touched your arms as you felt his heat.

"Y/N."

Taking another breath you gave him a blank look, your eyes instantly drawn to your sister loitering behind him. A muddled mixture of emotions on her face.

"If," You began calmly, your eyes locking on his nose, so you don't have to look into his eyes, "you're here because you think I'm trying to steal Jon or poison him against you, you should know I'm not. And there's no reason to worry."

You saw his jaw twitch and his grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you in even closer. Faintly, you could feel Jon lingering behind you. Clearly watching and waiting for a moment that deemed too much for you or a spot to intervene.

"I am not here because of that."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked away from Damian's face. Eyes once again drawing to your sister, whose brow was furrowed, a scowl of sorts on her face.

"Then why are you here?" You softly asked nails digging into your palm as you looked towards the floor.

"I'm here for you."

Snapping up, you raised your head and made the unfortunate mistake of meeting Damian's gaze. There was some kind of pain you noticed in his eyes. Pain, worry and something you refused to believe was real.

Longing

Looking away you tried to focus to stay calm, but your heart refused to listen.

Liar one side of it hissed

For me? the other side sobbed

Pushing down your feuding heart, you tried to think, think of the real reason he could be here. It took just a moment for you to come to what you thought was a viable conclusion.

He was here to show you how awful you really were.

He was here to prove he was in the right, and you were wrong.

To show that you weren't good enough.

That your sister was and that's the whole reason he chose her was because you weren't good enough.

Because you weren't enough.

The air stopped in your chest, and it was then you noticed your sister's gaze locked on Damian's hand gripping your arm. Forcing a breath you swallowed, your free hand to touch the one holding you there.

Almost instantly, Damian let go of your arm, his brows creased as his gaze flicked, just for a moment to Jon. Quickly looking back at you, almost as if he was scared, you'd disappear or be gone since he took his eyes off of you, Damian let out a long breath. Then, he stepped back until he was on the sidewalk, out of the doorway but blocking any escape onto the street.

Part of you hated that he knew you well enough to know you'd try to escape. Knew you well enough to know cornering you in a public place would not only make you even more hostile but frustrated people knew your personal business. Damian knew you well enough to know that even though you wanted to run, you did not want to impede on others.

Grinding your teeth, you exited Nonna's. You didn't have much of a choice other than moving out of the doorway fully and standing so close to Damian you were practically pressed into his side.

His hand was brushing your cheek, and you found a frown searing itself into his face.

"There is a bruise forming... what happened? How did this occur? Did someone harm you? Who hurt you?"

It took everything in you not to shove him away screaming,

YOU

YOU HURT ME

YOU CONTINUE TO HURT ME, OVER AND OVER AGAIN!

when will you stop hurting me?

Instead, you gently moved his hand from your face and tightly smiled your eyes drifting to Jon, confused why he hadn't stepped in or tried to help you escape yet.

"I'm fine, I just fell earlier. It was an accident, don't-" You stopped.

Don't worry.

Why did you need to say that? Why did you need to reassure him you were okay?

Why why why?

"You fell?" Damian murmurs, eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced.

"Yes," You retorted, taking in a breath, "I was running around the apartment and my foot caught a chair leg. Ask Jon, he was there."

"I know."

Stepping closer to you, your sister cleared her throat, smiling tightly, fully capturing your attention, "Y/N how are you liking Metropolis?"

"It's fine," You began narrowing your eyes as you looked her over, "why-"

Before you could even finish your question, she interrupted gesturing to Jon with a smug look on her face.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"Who, Jon? No, no. He's my friend, a good friend, but just a friend."

Part of you wanted to look at Damian as you said this, but you kept your composure enough to keep your gaze on S/N. However, she rolled her eyes at your comment almost as if she didn't believe you. And there was a look on her face that made something in you snap. Taking a step closer to her you scowled, crossing your arms.

"What the hell are you doing here anyways? I thought you were happily living in Gotham now," You hesitantly shot Damian a look before turning back to her, "I thought you both were."

Your sister weakly laughed, "Well, things have been... interesting. Adjusting to living in a new city is difficult, you should know that."

"I'm doing perfectly fine here; in fact, I was doing great until you- until the two of you showed up."

S/N blinked in surprise almost recoiling from your words. She opened her mouth, clearly prepared to spin a sob story to make you feel bad when Damian pulled you away from her.

"Be quiet, S/N."

"But Da-"

"I said quiet. It is atrocious enough that you followed me here. I do not need you aggregating things with Y/N by lying again."

"It's not lying exactly-"

There was a loud crash that rocketed you all straight into silence. You paused, looking around before taking a step forwards, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

At first you couldn't even see past the roof of the stores just beyond Nonna's. But as you slid into the empty street, you noticed a blur of colors. A familiar blur of colors.

Red and Blue.

"Oh shit," You whispered as an alarm of sorts began to blare.

You turned to shout to the others what was going on when a blast of sorts had you stumbling backwards. Looking up you saw a building tumbling towards you.

Blinking, everything seemed to go deathly still as a low whirling began in your ears. You turned, your eyes slowly blinking again as the building got closer to you and figures- blurred figures raced towards you as the whirling rose to a rumble then a voice, shout- no screaming your name. Before dust and rubble covered your eyes and something heavy struck your head sending you into pitch black darkness.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dust and what must have been ash floated in the air. Catching on your eyelashes and blurring your vision as you stirred. Blinking to find heavy rock and metal-rubble surrounding you. Wincing, you shifted in an attempt to get on your feet when you heard a groan.

Turning, you found just a few feet behind you a dusty and twitching person. Rubbing the dust away before you got closer you noticed a slab of concrete, a crimson splotch barely visible just on the area it made contact with the person's leg.

Moving closer, you noticed the familiar figure- the face and eyes. Moving closer you realized it was Damian. Going still you bit your lip as he grunted, clearly waking up.

Part of you wanted to just stare, to wait for him to notice you. But you also- the pain in your chest grew at the sight of him. Fallen and pinned, injured-bleeding; he was hurt. And-and in front of you. How could you just stand by and watch?

How was he even here? He was far away when the building fell and yet-here he was.

Moving closer you began to focus on his pinned leg, he blinked clearly trying to sit up.

"What are you doing here?" You muttered as you crouched near the slab.

"Pardon?"

"What are you doing over here! You should be by Nonna's safe from falling rubble and being trapped in a growing hellhole!" Peering around the slab, you noticed it wasn't too large. And there was definitely enough room for you to lift it up.

"You-"

"I what?" You snapped, shooting him a glare.

He hesitated, seeming to realize what you were doing as you took in a deep breath and slid your fingers under the concrete.

"I was attempting to reach you. To-to- remove you from danger."

You froze, air stopping in your lungs as sweat coated your hands. Gripping the slap harder you yanked upwards, heart racing. The slab rose just enough for his leg to slip free. Rolling, he cursed and scrambled away from the slab as the sweat weakened your grip and the slab fell back in place.

Silence overcame the two of you and you sighed deeply before remarking, "... you pushed me out of the way of falling rubble?"

"It is possible that situation occurred."

"Damian-"

"It is my belief that in consideration of our current... situation, we would be at a loss in continuing to bicker on what exactly occurred so that I would result in being confined here with you."

"Then what exactly should we be doing?"

"Perhaps we can discuss what truly occurred in reference to when your sister came to Gotham."

Your teeth sank onto the inner part of your cheek as you let out a hissing breath. Nails digging into the palm of your hands as you turned to him.

Frustrated, sad and-and angry.

Angry that this whole situation came about and that you were being pushed once again to listen. To understand. That what happened was always going to happen.

But part of you... part of you wanted to listen. To hear his explanation and get rid of the ever-growing pit of abyss in your chest. To listen and understand what he did. That it never really was between you and her. That you were enough and that, that.... he would choose you.

However, you knew it was too late for something like that to occur. He had chosen her. Just as everyone else did, just as everyone always will.

You were never and will never be anyone's first choice. Especially when your sister was an option. Especially when you were just simply you. Not something greater or grander like she was, like others will be.

So, you need to make a choice. Hear him out, listen to the same story you've heard hundreds of times before or sit in the unknowing. Questioning whether or not it actually was the same, whether or not you weren't enough. Questioning if he really did choose her over you.

And you weren't exactly good with questions, with curiosities and wonderings. But you were tired of hearing all the reasons your sister was better...

Maybe this time will make you realize the truth. Maybe this time, hearing the words of devotion to your sister from someone who you so deeply loved and trusted would make you realize it will always be her. Maybe it will make you realize you need to stop hoping and wishing and wanting it to be you. Because in the end it never will be.

Swallowing, you relaxed your hand and jaw. Sinking onto the dusty ground with a sigh you shrugged.

"Fine, fine. Why the hell not, tell me your little sob story. I'll listen. I won't cry or shout or say you're lying. Tell me the truth and it will all be over."

He began pulling himself across the ground closer to you. You locked your jaw, wincing before going still.

"It- There- A misunderstanding occurred. I wish to rectify this, because... for a lack of superior terminology, it is not what you think."

You raised an eyebrow as he slid even closer to you, sweat beading on his brow. Mixing with the dust and dirt that clung to his face, sliding down his face drawing your eye to his face- his jaw and- no.

no

"Really now?" You sneered.

"Y/N-" He began and you rolled your eyes.

"Damian stop with the antics, call me as you usually do."

"... I regularly address you in this manner."

"Wha- no- wait..." You paused blinking a few times as faint memories raced across your mind, with his voice always calling you by your first name, "when did you stop calling me by my last name?"

"Is that what you truly wish to know?"

You took a risk and met his gaze, seeing the unwavering determination in his eyes. Almost as if he'd tell you anything you wanted to know.

"Y- no. No, just continue, continue please."

He paused for just a moment before nodding weakly and continuing, "When your sister first arrived in Gotham, I was... concerned. You had previously stated that your accounts could be biased. Therefore, I desired to comprehend the truth in your... contemptuous relationship. Thus, I enacted a strategy to ascertain your sister's true intentions."

Strategy... a plan-he- he wait

"You-you... you wanted to know what my sister wanted with me?"

Eyes still locked onto each other you watched him sigh heavily, his jaw locking as he readjusted himself.

"In essence, I yearned to distinguish if your belief is correct or if your judgment was clouded due to... past grievances."

He...wa-he wanted to know the truth. Was there really anything wrong with that? After all he wouldn't have come all this way if he... if he truly chose your sister.

Speaking of your sister... what- what did he find that made him- made him decide to lie to you??

"... And what exactly did you discover?"

At this he broke eye contact and your stomach dropped. You were wrong, you were wrong she wasn't trying to hurt you. She wasn't being cruel. oh lord what had you done-

"You- you... your perspective on the matter is accurate. Extensively accurate. In fact, according to my comprehension, your sister not only dislikes you- but she wishes to have you... under her control."

wait, you were right? You were right? Then- then what exactly was she trying to do? Why was she so cruel? Why did he use those methods to discover this?

"So, you're telling me that you flirted with and went on a date with my sister because you wanted to know what her intentions with me were?"

"That is correct."

"And... she hates me."

Damian winced as he attempted to slide even closer to you. It was then you realized how you were leaning back, shoulders straight, arms crossed and nails in palm. Tense you were so tense.

"Hardly, rather she- well rather it appears to me she is... envious of you."

This startled you. What, what on earth could he mean by envious?

"Envious?”

"Ugh, perhaps the word jealous provides more clarity."

"She's-... she's jealous of me?" You were barely able to get the words out as your shoulders sank and Damian's hand brushed against your leg.

He shifted once again, pulling himself so he was seated at your side. He was panting and his brow was soaked in sweat.

"That is how I have come to understand it."

It- none of this made any sense.

"Why?"

"As far as I was able to discern, she envy's your strength against society and peer's ideals on who you are and how you should behave."

He reached out, gently grabbing your hand and holding it in his own as you stared at the rubble surrounding the two of you. There was more silence when he squeezed your hand. You turned to him and he half heartedly gestured to his leg before remarking,

"Is this not when you scold me for causing further injury to myself? Better yet, why have you not voiced any complaints or objections to my actions?"

"Because you did it to yourself, who am I to tell you what to do?" You snorted rolling your eyes as you took his hand in return, "besides would you have actually listened to me?"

"I do not believe I would."

"Exactly."

For a moment or two, it almost felt as though everything was going back to the way it was supposed to be. In fact, you were just about to lean into him when a thought crossed your mind.

why did he hide it? Why did he not include you? Why keep it from you?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He was quiet and you swallowed, waiting for the weak explanation of how he realized he didn't like you all that much. Instead, you got,

"I- wished to inform you of my discoveries... but only after I obtained a method to prevent her from ever... from allowing her envy to create contention between the two of you."

Contention... wait-wait was- was he trying to protect you?

"You- you were trying to figure out how to prevent her from being mean to me?"

"I was attempting to, but... you ran away."

A heat of sorts rose up in your chest and burned away the fleeting sensation of relief and regret.

"I did not run away," You snapped, pulling your hand from his as you glared, "I left."

"I apologize," He said, his face pale as he reached out for you once again, "It seemed, at the time, that you were running."

It wasn't a wrong assumption exactly but... how- how did he-

"How did you find me?" You whispered.

"I- I will give you this information under an immovable condition."

You raised your head brow furrowed with suspicion rising in your throat, "And what is that?"

"You- you cannot act and must think through all I will tell. You must listen because there is much I will say."

Someone- someone had given you up. Someone had betrayed you...again.

"Fine."

"My... family, those who knew, would not even acknowledge your absence. So do not worry, they still hold your confidence in high regard."

You relaxed slightly, swallowing as a weight on your shoulders lifted. Making eye contact you raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"I searched for any trace and found none. It is my belief that Gordon erased your tracks... regardless I- i had begun to lose hope when... when Kent reached out to me."

You froze, your chest tightening as your nail instinctively stabbed into your palm. Biting your lip, you looked away as a heavy darkness clouded your mind. Clutching onto your shoulders and sinking into your skin as a pain of sorts danced across your veins.

"He was... concerned about my wellbeing. And soon, yours. He informed me he knew of your location, but it wasn't until he said you were looking gaunt- that it was evident not only with your action but with your appearance. You- he said-" Damian paused, swallowing as it seemed almost as if he was in pain as he continued, "you were suffering. And that though he did not wish to betray you, your welfare was far more important."

This was, this was odd. You had never experienced someone- someone doing something for your own good even though you were against it.

"Jon- Jon told you where I was because he was worried?"

"Yes, he- he ordered me to come to your side," Damian chuckled, "To explain and clarify what occurred. That he could not bear to see you in such a state for any longer."

"Ah... and you didn't originally tell me because-because you were trying to protect me?"

Damian blinked a few times, turning to you, confusion clinging to his features as you noted his flushed cheeks, more than likely due to his strenuous efforts to reach your side, "Pardon?"

"You approached my sister, trying to figure out what she wanted because you didn't want me to get hurt. You even wanted to come up with a plan to stop her from hurting me. So, you wanted to protect me."

He tilted his head and shrugged, eyes raking over your face as if he was taking it in for the first time.

"With it phrased in that manner, yes. It appears that way."

"why."

"What?'

"Why did you-" You hesitated faintly recalling Damian calling you friend and you stopped.

You knew why he did it. At least most of it. A better question to ask- a question ringing in your mind over and over again was,

"Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?"

"I- I am afraid I do not understand."

"Why didn't you tell me you were planning on figuring out what my sister wanted? Why did you lie to me? Why did you hide this from me?"

"I feared it would harm you."

"How?"

"You- you tend to be... excessively sensitive with matters involving your sister. I did not want you to... worry whether or not your intentions or beliefs about what happened with your sister were incorrect."

You paused, something sparking in your chest. A light of hope or joy. Something warm and happy that began to spread, the fact he knew you well enough to know you'd think that way-

But it didn't entirely make sense.

Damian would usually be there with you shaking his arms crossed as he sighed at your thoughts. Saying something along the lines of "you need not think that way. While I loathe to admit it, I made mistakes as well. And as Father has said, to make mistakes is human.... though I doubt he himself follows this proverb."

Looking him over you raised your head, eyes once again narrowed. Suspicion-a light more curious suspicion- rose up on your skin. Itching and crawling as confusion clouded your mind.

"What doesn't make sense."

He blinked, looking to you his brow furrowed pain etched into his face as he let out a ragged breath.

"I would appreciate some elaboration."

"That reason doesn't make sense."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You-... just as well as you know me Damian, I know you. And I know that me being worried I was wrong about my sister is not a good enough reason you'd keep that plan from me."

He faltered, wincing as he avoided your eyes, "It- at the time it appeared to me that you were... compromised emotionally due to your sister's unexpected arrival. I did not want to-to pressure you more with this... scheme of mine."

You snorted, crossing your arms as you gave him an irritated and amused look.

"Damian, even after my grandma died, who I was really close with. After I got back from her funeral, you still felt the need to tell me I was lacking when on patrol."

He shifted, eyes drifting away from you, his jaw locked.

"I do not understand how that circumstance and the present conversation connect."

"You are lying to me right now. I don't know why, and I honestly don't really care. I just want the truth."

He breathed out a heavy sigh before meeting your gaze, "I have grown a great deal since then. I now better understand what is appropriate and what is not."

"Damian."

Something stirred in you, it ached that he was still lying and-and you couldn't understand why. You didn't care about why truthfully. As long as you knew the truth, he could keep all the secrets about why he had lied that he wanted.

"I am telling you the truth." He seethed.

"I don't believe you; it doesn't make sense."

"Y/N-"

"Why would you do that?" You threw your hands up, shaking your head in confusion, that ache turning into a burning flame" Why would you care all of the sudden-"

"BECAUSE I HAVE AMOROUS FEELINGS FOR YOU!"

The flame went out and all of the anger and frustration disappeared in the blink of an eye. You tilted your head, confusion overtaking everything, "...what?"

"I have amorous feelings... for you."

Confusion grew and grew buzzing in your chest and throat. None of this made sense what- amorous, what in the hell did that mean?

"I- I don't understand, Damian what are you saying-"

He pressed on, "Just as you told me when saying goodbye, it hurts to see you in such a state-it burns me alive to harm you in any way because- because."

Your throat went dry the confusion beginning to fade, "Damian-"

"Because I am in love with you."

The world went still and you couldn't breathe. His words ringing over and over again in your mind.

Because I am in love with you

I am in love with you

love

A faint shifting sound caused you to let out a breath, air flushing in and out of your lungs.

"You-you... what?"

"I, myself, do not fully comprehend the scope of these... emotions. However, I am not going to deny them any longer."

His voice dropped, and he reached out, taking your hands in his, pulling you in closer.

"I am in love with you, when I heard you say that you felt the same and-and that I had hurt you. It nearly destroyed me. Especially since I could not fix my mistake. Especially because I could not comfort you. I could not even see your face. But your voice- I heard all the pain and sorrow I had caused." He released your hands and cupped your face pressing his forehead against yours, "Knowing I had done that in an attempt to keep you safe- that it was all my fault... I have not slept since you left. I have not ate- I have not lived since you left me."

You swallowed heat racing across your cheeks as you met his gaze. That longing you saw earlier burning so much brighter. The regret and sorrow swirling in between his eyes as you felt the tremble in his grip.

"I regret every action of mine that led me here- that hurt you. And I ask you to forgive me for my lunacy-for my arrogance and stupidity."

Head spinning you breathed slowly, confused and-and happy. He- he hadn't betrayed you.

"Seeing you once again-I... " He paused, shifting his grip, "I could not breathe for a moment. You- you were so stunning standing before me.... I understand if you-you feel different, but I beg of you. Please let me stay by your side. I care not if it is in Gotham or here. I- I am certain that without you- without your mere presence I will not survive."

In fact, he was always on your side. Always. He never chose he- it was- it was always you.

He chose you

You

You squeezed your eyes shut, heart hammering in your chest as your eyes burned and something warm slipped down your cheek.

"Oh-ah I- I apologize. I did- I did not intend-"

Something bubbled in your stomach almost making you laugh at his worry and frantic words that happened merely because of a few tears.

"Damian I'm okay," You whispered, opening your eyes seeing the panic on his face as you sniffed, "Happy- these are happy tears."

"oh- I... so you are not angry with me?"

"No- no I'm happy," You replied wiping away your tears, "happy I was wrong, happy you feel the same and-and..."

Damian went still and you pressed your head fully against his closing your eyes.

"I love you Damian, I still do. And- I-i... I accept your apology. It will take time for me to-to be comfortable once again but... I am willing to try-try at something more."

Opening your eyes, you felt your face flush even darker as you could see the pure and utter joy on his face. He leaned in and you did as well, eyes beginning to flutter when there was a crash of sorts.

Your eyes flew open, and you found just a few feet away from where you and Damian sat was now a hole. A gaping hole that led outside-into the clear open air and warmth. Just outside of the hole a figure floated faint streams of light catching to reveal colors to you.

Red and Blue.

Weakly laughing you raised a hand, "uh, ha, Hey Supes."

There was silence for a moment and Superman floated into the small alcove of rubble and dust. He looked at the two of you and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you both alright?"

You nodded slowly before hesitating, "Uh no- no."

You turned to Damian who was very pale and clinging to you. Swallowing you gestured to his leg turning back to Superman.

"His leg- it got caught under some stuff when we got stuck here. I think it might be broken or something."

There was a moment of silence before Superman flew closer to the two of you and in a second, he had pulled the two of you into his arms.

It was a matter of moments before you were outside, the sun bright as he set the two of you down. Pointing towards the paramedics nearby.

"You can get help there."

"Thank you!" You said with a smile as you grabbed onto Damian's arm.

Superman nodded with a smile before taking off, probably to help others. Damian half shuffled towards you wincing slightly and you began to reach for him when he said under his breath,

"And here I was desiring the opportunity to rescue you."

A heat rushed over you, and it almost seemed as if your body moved on its own. Your hands grabbing the collar of his shirt as you pulled him to you, pressing your lips against his.

There were a few moments, with your lips pressed against his, where nothing happened. Then, in an instant, with a wince of pain and body shaking, he grabbed onto your arm and kissed you back.

Heart, hammering you pulled away, almost panting as a slight feeling of regret coating your throat. Looking at his face you found a dazed look and released his shirt. Almost instantly he began tumbling towards the ground. Arms shooting out you captured him, pulling him close.

He winced muttering curses as he used your shoulder to pull himself up. Looking around you found people staring phones up and lights flashing.

"Oh shit," you whispered.

Damian shifted and you realized he wanted to move. Slowly walking half carrying him you began your trek towards the paramedics. Leaning against you he began muttering things,

"They will be relentless in their mockings for months."

Rolling your eyes, you steadied him, his head resting on your shoulder as you moved closer to the paramedics.

"Is it, all of this, the teasing and pain... is it all worth it?"

Shifting so he could look at your you he smiled, eyes locked on your face a soft and warm gaze- so heartfelt and yearning as he replied,

"If I am with you? Always."

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[sanjisboyfie]

๑ keep safe - davy back fight 彡 long ring long land arc begins! (32)

one piece x male reader

the boy with the thorn in his side

behind the hatred there lies,

a murderous desire

for love

『 prev 』

when morning came, the crew had arrived at a very vacant island. of course, luffy, chopper, and usopp were the first to jump at exploring it. and surprisingly, it was [name] that stayed behind with the rest of the crew.

“huh? you’re not gonna go be a dumbass with them?” zoro asked, looking unimpressed as [name] stood on the deck with the rest of the remaining crew.

“there’s not even anything there,” [name] sighed with a pout, “it’s really just land as far as the eye can see as well as long animals that are walking around as if its normal…”

“huh?” the crew echoed, not understanding what [name] was talking about. after all, all they could see was a vast greenscape in front of htem, not any odd, long animals that [name] was talking about.

“trust me, they’re there,” he said with a wave of his hand, “nami, robin, want any coffee?”

”sure!”

“if it wouldn’t be too bothersome,”

“oh, it would never-”

“we don’t have any coffee, idiot,”

sanji’s blunt, cut through words made [name] collapse where he stood with tears streaming down his stoic face.

“yes…that’s right…no coffee…”

“it’s not the end of the world, idiot, quit overreacting,” zoro walked over [name] with a yawn, stepping over his back with not a care in the world. the h/c haired man didn’t seem to care either, the odd form of abuse flying over his head as he was too focused on the fact they had no coffee left.

“what am i supposed to do…”

sanji and nami sighed at his attitude while robin merely found him amusing.

unable to quench his hunger for coffee, or even just coffee beans, [name] felt miserable. as if he were having withdrawls. it made him go back to his hammock and try and force himself back to sleep. unfortunately, he was unable to even close his eyes to rest since he was longing so much for the bitter treat.

he was even shaking where he laid due to the withdrawl he was feeling. thinking that making any hot beverage would be better than just laying down, he changed into more breathable clothes and made his way to the kitchen. a plain black shirt and loose pants were sufficient in keeping him feeling comfortable.

he heated the water over the fire in a tea kettle, waiting impatiently for it to boil. just as he was about to pour the water into his cup, there was a tremendous tremor underneath merry that made him spill the hot water over his skin instead of the teacup. he cursed under his breath, rushing over to the sink and pouring cold water over his tender flesh.

“what the fuck?” he murmured, drying the throbbing part of his hand gently and then stomping onto the deck. when he saw that the rest of the crew was standing on the ground, he went to the front of the railing and yelled, “what the hell was that?!”

“don’t be hasty! all we want is…a showdown!”

a pissed off look was on his face as he heard a loud announcer say over a speaker system. it was as if the person needed to be heard from every corner of the earth from how loud they were. or maybe, [name] was just particularly irritable and wanted nothing but peace and quiet (and coffee).

“who the hell is that.”

“we are the foxy pirates!!”

“and who the hell are the foxy pirates?”

“we are here to challenge you to a davy back fight!!”

[name] looked to the rest of the crew with a sour look on his face. they all shrugged, not knowing what the hell the other people were talking about. but since merry was trapped in between the ship and the island, they had no other choice but to entertain the foxy pirates.

“the fight begins the moment two captains are in agreement. as we speak, our captain is challenging your captain, monkey d. luffy, to battle!”

“challenging? what kind of nonsense is that? if you want a fight, then just start one!”

[name] jumped down off of merry and onto the island, joining robin’s side as he looked up at their “enemy” ship.

“hey, you’ve never heard of a davy back fight?”

“it sounds stupid,” [name] yawned, making sanji kick the back of his head in annoyance.

”you, out of everyone here, should know what a davy back fight is. you’ve been sailing the seas the longest. seriously. it’s not a fight, it’s a pirate game!”

“yes, a game that supposedly arose long ago on “pirate island,” which is said to be a pirate paradise somewhere in the sea. in it, pirates plunder each other for top-notch crew members.”

“pirates plunder each other?!” namii asked in amazement. similar to zoro and [name], she had never heard of a davy back fight before either.

“yes, i’m surprised you’ve never heard about that,” a random crew member shouted from the other ship, “after each match, the winner can take any crew member they want from the opposing team,”

as if it were a sixth sense, [name] felt a hundred pair of eyes on the back of his head.

“it is certainly a surprise to know you weren’t even aware of such a game, cursed orphan,” [name] clicked his tongue in annoyance, standing tall and upright as he faced the other crew. “you have been talked about a lot the past three years since you’ve hit the seas. whenever this game was mentioned, someone would always bring up your name. the fact you had no crew, meant that no one could challenge you to such a game. but now — you’re all up for grabs,”

[name] rolled his eyes in annoyance, “not happening, you shits,”

“oh, but a mere crew mate like you doesn’t get a say in what happens,” they taunted, pointing a finger at him as they smirked, “the choice rests on your captain’s shoulders. and when your captain does say yes and we win that first round, you’re going to be the first one up that we choose to come to our side.

whoever’s chosen must immediately swear loyalty to their new captain! in the name of davy jones, the pirate of the deep!”

“fuck davy jones,” [name] says under his breath as he kicks a stone beneath his foot.

”so…you lose a crew mate?” nami asked for clarification, stiffening when the other crew confirmed that.

“and if no one of interest is on the losing side — then you get to strip the pirate ship of its jolly roger, the pride and life of the ship and crew!”

“so crewmates and pride are on the line. winning with make you stronger, while losing will mean a serious lose,” sanji repeated, biting the cigarette that was in his mouth in an annoyed snarl, “what a vicious game.”

as “proof” that the foxy pirates meant business when stealing crewmates, they brought out a couple of former crewmates of another pirate ship. they were now spewing loyalties to the foxy pirates with no shame, making [name] grimace in disgust.

imagining him having to act or be that way, as a foxy crewmate who looked down on luffy, his previous captain, made him sick to his stomach and angry enough to commit some heinous acts.

“and like it or not, you’re all in the game if your captain so much as nods his head in agreement,”

[name] sighed, wondering if luffy would actually fall into such a trap. now, [name] was all for fun and exciting games to be played — especially when the stakes are high. but things such as trading off crewmates was not anything he found particularly exhilarating. it was a disgusting thought; to treat his friends and companions as commodities in a game.

there was nothing fun or exciting about that. and the more the people on that ship talked about it as if it was, made him more and more angry. if he was really going to be put on that ship, he’d made sure to start some infighting to teach them all a lesson.

“then — if it’s just the captain’s decision, i’ll go run over there and do my best in stopping luffy!!”

nami already took off running, but the sound of two gunshots made her stop in her tracks.

“he’s agreed to it.”

“fine by me.”

“this’ll be interesting.”

“luffy…what the hell.”

the strawhats all gathered together, some shooting each other disappointed looks as they were preparing for the “opening ceremony” of the davy back fight.

in what seemed like a couple of minutes, the foxy pirate crew had built up a miniature town that had yakisoba stands, cotton candy sellers, and a bunch of other things you’d most likely see at a carnival. the strawhats all stood in the back as luffy and some split-head guy were sitting at the stage in the front.

“okay, men! please quiet down as we start the opening ceremony!” a woman with blue hair spoke into the mic. she had an odd mask on her face, but as [name] observed those around him, he realized it must be some costume that the crew has to wear.

“first the only way to take back crewmates, jolly rogers, or anything else is through another davy back fight. second, anyone taken by the winner must sweat loyalty to that ship’s captain immediately! third if your holly roger is taken, you can’t ever display it again !”

sanji came running up to the crew with cotton candy, which he lovely presented to robin and nami. the navigator had her head in her hands as she panicked about their entire situation.

“how can you all be so calm about this?!”

”are you still moping about that?” zoro asked, a tired look on his face.

“hm, i don’t like it either, but what’s done is done. if anything goes awry, we can just kill all of these people and set sail without warning,” [name] nonchalantly said, shrugging his shoulders as if it weren’t a big deal. “it’s an annoying predicament luffy has got us into, but the chances are we are gonna win any game over these bozos.”

chopper and usopp looked at [name], horrified at his confession of mass slaughtering the other crew. zoro and sanj, on the other hand, were nagging him about his reaction.

”don’t you think that’s such an unmanly way to go about this?”

“our pride is on the line here, shit for brains, have you no pride?”

they pulled on each side of his face, stretching his cheeks out as they spat insults of his stupidity and lack of pride as a man that he had. he could only take it with a stoic look on his face, not having the bone to argue further with them.

“should you break these rules you’ll be considered a dishonorable pirate and sent to davy jones’ locker!”

“as if pirates have any sense of honor,” [name]’s bored tone and snide comment made zoro and sanji hit him on the back of his head at the same time. “do you swear to uphold them?”

“i swear!”

“i swear!”

the strawhats all perked up in attention when they saw that things were finally getting set into motion. it seemed that the captain of the foxy pirates was letting luffy choose how many games they would play.

the ravenette looked out into the crowd when nami called out his name. he grinned at the signal they were giving him and nodded his head in understanding. both nami and usopp were standing side by side with their pointer fingers held up, indicating that luffy should pick only one game and then be done with it.

unfortunately, luffy didn’t understand and proudly announced that they would be playing three games. someone from foxy’s crew had joined them in their signal, adding his finger in and making luffy think they meant three games instead of just one.

once they were told that all they had to do now was wait for the game of choice to be announced, luffy came waltzing over to them with a carefree look on his face. within seconds, both nami and usopp were scolding and lecturing him with pissed off looks on their faces.

“hey! you forgot something! write down your rosters and give them to our party organizer! members can participate only twice. once you’ve chosen your roster, it’s set in stone!”

a paper was thrown at zoro, who calmly picked it up.

he read the information off, as the rest of the crew gathered. “the events of the contest are: a race, a ball game, and a team competition.”

“what vague wording,” [name] said, glaring at the words on the paper.

”what’s this? a race is open to all members, the ball game is open to three, and the team competition is open to five,” sanji added in, seeing the small notes that were added underneath each game.

“all right! i’m gonna do all three!” luffy said, obviously having not listened to the announcer earlier.

“you can only participate two times, lu,” [name] softly informed the man, rubbing up and down his back, “so you can’t do all three games.”

luffy pouted at the reiterated information, leaning into [name]’s torso with an upset look on his face.

after some sulking and strategic talk, the straw hats were able to decide who would participate when. since the race battle was open to all members, they only had to choose for the second and third game. [name] volunteered himself for the second game, which the others had no problem with. sanji and zoro were next to put down their names for that one — showing some obvious competitive spirit (even though [name] would be on their team). and he decided not to participate in the last one, leaving it to the made team of: robin, nami, usopp, and luffy.

he smirked in interest, finally starting to feel excited about the games rather than annoyed. there was no way he was going to let the strawhats end this game without all their crew members anyway, so he supposed he might as well enjoy it for what it was.

a good opportunity to humble the rookie fodder that were the foxy pirates.

the announcer read their roster with enthusiasm, setting everyone off to prepare for the first game. they gave everyone participating free access to some barrels, encouraging them to break it apart to use as materials for their boat race.

“how should we team up?”

“since some of us are devil fruit users, maybe we should split into two teams of three and four people…” sanji said in thought, taking into account that their race was going to be over the sea water.

[name] hummed in interest, looking at the barrels that were on the stage, “i’ll go solo.”

“hah? why?” nami asked, an unsure look on her face.

“i have an idea, requires only me to execute it. sorry, nami, you won’t be riding with me today,” he teased, going to pinch her cheek, but was immediately slapped away by her own hand and sanji’s.

after a hard glare coming from the navigator, he departed to grab everyone their barrels. he took as many as he could, balancing them in his hold before dropping them onto the ground for all of them to use. he only required one, so it left the rest of the crew with a lot to work with. he took a seat not too far from everyone else, but a good distance away so that he could focus without getting distracted.

but he didn’t mind company, which is why he welcomed usopp’s figure walking towards him with a genuine smile.

“so what are you planning on making, [name]?” usopp asked in curiousity. he peered over [name]’s shoulder with the said man turning his head so he could properly look at usopp as he answered. he didn’t even flinch when his cheek pressed against usopp’s nose since they were that close to one another.

“surfboard!” was his only response, grinning ear to ear and then turning back to his handy work, “if all goes well, this should be an easy win. but if not, i can’t promise i won’t pass out from exhaustion,”

usopp fell onto [name]’s back at that answer, moaning and groaning in a panic, “what if we end up losing [name]? what if we end up getting one of us taken away?!”

”i wouldn’t worry about that, usopp,” [name] comforted the poor man, patting up and down his arm to soothe him, “this is just the first of three games — besides, i’m in the second round as well, so hopefully we can just win whoever we lost back with no problems!”

usopp looked at [name] with hope in his eyes, comedic tears brimming in his round eyes, “do you really have that much faith, [name]? how heartwarming to know you’re so confident in all of our abilities!”

“of course i would be,” [name] laughed, ruffling usopp’s hair and pressing down on his head as if he were a kid, “now you should get to building — your team is counting on you!”

the sniper, with a new sense of confidence and hope, nodded and went off to robin and nami to build their boat together.

[name] hummed as he worked, wiping the sweat off from his forehead as he worked on flattening out the barrel planks. he was beginning to feel hot from working so hard on his “boat” that he turned around to luffy and sanji, beginning to whine, “sanji!!! i’m thirsty, give me water!”

the chef’s brow quirked up in annoyance at the whiney tone [name] had, “what the fuck do i look like to you?! an errand boy?! get yourself some water, dipshit!”

“hey, i asked so nicely and that’s how you respond? how rude of you, sanji, how rude,”

“i could have said much worse, would you like me to?!”

“no, asshole,” [name] muttered the last bit to himself, beginning to stand up and get himself his own water. but just as he was about to turn around from his surfboard, someone bumped into him. they were so close to him, it was as if they were standing behind him when he was sitting down.

he looked down to get a proper look at them, quirking his eyebrow up in intrigue when he recognized that they were a foxy pirate crew member. she had long blonde hair, looking up at him with a blush set on her cheeks.

“hello…?”

“oh! i heard you were thirsty, so i got you a water bottle, [name]!”

he looked at the women before shaking his head, “i’m alright, thanks,” he didn’t want to blatantly accuse her of trying to poison him, but there was no doubt in his mind that that was exactly what she was doing.

why else would someone from the enemy team come over to him?

“are you sure? you look a bit hot,” she said, raising a hand to press against his forehead. he stopped her immediately, gently grabbing her wrist and guiding it back down to her side.

“thank you for the offer, but i’m alright. i’ll just go get my own water,” he awkwardly smiled at her before running off, leaving her there astounded at his behavior. then she huffed in annoyance that she wasn’t able to give him the water that she actually didn’t do anything to (really, she didn’t — the cap was still sealed and everything). she just wanted to show him a nice gesture — and see him up close.

but that annoyed expression on her face was wiped off almost immediately as she daydreamed about what he did look like up close. the blush that was on her cheeks before returned and she almost covered her face with her hands to calm herself.

meanwhile, the straw hats were watching from the side with confused looks on their faces.

“what was that.” nami asked, face scrunched up in genuine confusion. there was no way that was what she thinks it was. and if it was — seriously? [name] of all people? she shuddered at the thought.

“don’t know, that was weird, though!” luffy exclaimed, eyes blown wide as he watched the mystery woman run off with her head down and hiding from their watchful eyes. “if i was [name], i would’ve taken it…it’s free water anyway,”

on the other hand, sanji was sulking in the corner, drawing mindless shapes into the grass as a shadow of sadness and forlorn was hanging around him. it was as if a thunder cloud was hovering above his head with how sad and pathetic he looked.

in a couple of minutes, [name] returned with some refreshments for him and the rest of the crew. and it took him longer than he realized to get the drinks because the moment they finished their drinks, the announcer said that it was time for the race to start.

[name] wiped his forehead of sweat one last time before he picked up his surfboard. it wasn’t as sturdy as he wished for it to be, but hopefully it would still get the job done.

everyone got dropped into the water, the strawhats sticking close to one another as they entered the field with the enemy surrounding them. [name] took a seat on his surfboard, looking around as more people entered the water.

“oh! the odds are finally in! i’ll listen them in order of popularity, starting with the most popular,” [name] sweatdropped at the idea of people voting on a popularity pole, what odd timing for such a thing. “the top spot obviously is going to the member of the powerful team foxy: porche-chan!” a woman with a pointy nose and long blue hair was standing on top of her boat, waving her arms in the air as she looked at her “fans” on shore.

it was obvious she was a favorite for her cute looks and personality with how loud the men on the sidelines were cheering for her.

“ooh! just leave it to me!” she exclaimed as she blew kisses into the crowd, which only made them cheer louder.

“second most popualr is…oh!! this is unexpected! the straw hat team of navigator nami, sniper usopp, and archeologist robin! they’ll be riding the barrel tiger!”

[name] cheered for his team, screaming and clapping his hands for them. this only made nami splash him with water using her paddle, putting her head down in fear and shame. he could only guess that her thoughts were going a mile a minute since she assumed that the foxy pirates would probably be taking her first when they win since she’s the cutest. [name] smiled at her funny reaction, turning back to the announcer to hear more.

“third most popular is…oh! another surprise! the strawhat team’s solo rider, [name]!!” the man blinked in shock, looking to the announcer to make sure he was hearing right, “oh, with such a cool boat, there’s no wonder he’s got many fans. a man of confidence, he is! what mysterious power will he use to try winning?!”

“not try — i am going to,” [name] huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at the cheesy announcer.

“that attitude! isn’t it just to die for, ladies?!”

[name] flinched at the sudden question, but his jaw really dropped when he heard a high chorus of agreement come from the crowd. the previous “front row” men were replaced with just as many women, who came forward and were shamelessly showing their support for him.

“win the race, [name]! we bet you’ll look really good while you do it, too!!”

“i’m your number 1 supporter!”

“oh, i hope he loses so he can join us!”

“good thinking, me too, me too!!”

the straw hats, minus sanji — who was once again sulking, all sweatdropped at the sudden attention [name] was getting. they were shocked that it was even a positive encouragement coming from the foxy pirates.

“please, don’t cheer for me,” [name] said in a serious tone, looking at the girls with a blank stare, “i don’t even know why you would…”

“telling me not to cheer will only make me cheer louder!”

[name] grimaced.

“because you’re the strongest, [name]!”

that made him put on a prideful grin, for a split second.

“because you’re the coolest and most handsome, [name]!”

a blank stare was shot towards the women who shouted that.

“now, now, let’s get settled, ladies! the rest of the popularity poll must be read!” the commentator lightly scolded, making the women in the front row quiet down, but still shoot [name] their heart eyes and dreamy smiles.

he shifted where he sat, pretending to not notice them.

“next is the harem nocturne, a boat of the beautiful, by the beautiful, for the beautiful!” a couple of the women on board that boat winked at [name] when they noticed him staring in wonder, “in fourth place is the crab crane, a regular in the top ranks! in fifth and sixth place, the swordfish king #1 and #2!! seventh most popular is the party-loving pleasure boat! in eighth place, the duke special!”

it seemed that the other strawhats weren’t even worthy of being read off, not until luffy incited an explanation. and with that, they learned that they weren’t even the last on the list, but someone from foxy’s crew that had an inhumanely large barrel boat set up.

and with the introduction of all the teams, everyone watching was getting hyped up and ready for the race.

“crush them, porche-chan!!”

“we’re cheering for you, handsome [name]!!”

”that’s a lil overboard…”

“we hope you sink, long-nose!”

“me?!”

with the firing of the gun, everyone was quick to steer ahead. [name] used his makeshift paddle for now, standing on top of his surfboard and balancing himself to make sure that he didn’t fall.

he grit his teeth, seeing that from the largest ship, a bunch of other barrels had been thrown into the sea. when nami had poked the barrel with her oar, a sudden explosion was set off, making [name] still and turn behind him in worry.

seeing that their boat was shot straight up into the air, he quickly let the water spurt up underneath them and catch them before they could crash down and do more damage to their boat. it was as if the sea turned into a fountain for a split second with how instant the reaction was.

“are you all okay?!”

“we’re fine, thanks [name] for saving us,” he nodded stiffly, shouting at them to be sure that they avoided the rest of the barrels.

“that’s impossible! they’re completely surrounding us!”

“hand me that oar, chopper, i can take care of it,” zoro commanded and the doctor didn’t waste a second before complying.

in a couple of seconds, all of the explosive barrels that were surrounding them had be pushed back to where they came from. and before the rest of them knew it, a tremendous wave had resulted from the explosion.

seeing it as the perfect opportunity, [name] threw the oar aside and stood tall and ready for the wave to hit.

“asshole, you better use this chance for good and send us into first place!!” zoro shouted, seeing the plan practically painted on [name]’s face. the devilish smirk and confident fire in his eyes, he was easy to read in that moment.

“just sit back and enjoy the show, idiot marimo!” [name] shouted in return, watching the gigantic wave only get bigger and bigger.

he began paddling with his arms before popping up onto his feet, keeping a steady balance. within seconds, he was being put into first place as the wave he was riding did all of the hard work for him.

“we’re happily watching and enjoying, [name]!” the same “fanclub” that made itself known earlier screamed, practical hearts in their eyes. he ignored their cries, focusing on staying balanced and standing upright.

with the water now dousing his clothes and hair, he was completely drenched in sea water. he smirked at the cool feeling, a drastic difference to his warm body heat. it was the perfect balance of temperature that gave him a shot of dopamine.

“perfect,” he leaned down, touching the wave underneath his barrel surfboard. then he stood up and his posture turned relaxed, hands on his hips as he steadily guided his surfboard straight ahead.

“i’m in first place~”

if anyone thought about it for even just a second, they’d have realized that this was the perfect race for [name]. but, obviously, only if you had known the one major factor: [name] had the ability to manipulate water, including saltwater, even if only for a short while. riding atop of such a simple, but easily maneuverable boat/surfboard made for a perfect vessel in the conditions.

and not a single soul in the grand line knew of this ability, which made it the perfect opportunity to twist this in the straw hat’s favor. it explained why the confident smirk on his face didn’t falter for even a second.

-

[ .ᐟ ]  i cant believe that this is a real arc and not just filler……

-

taglist (lmk if u want to be tagged ! <3 : ty to the persoin in the replise that helped me out with this issue, however, those with the ** marked i still cant properly tag them :(( their accoutns wont show up when i type the username, but for the ones marked without ** the accounts showed up perfectly fine :// im rlly confused on why its doing thissss ughhhh

@skullr0se @strawberrii-tea @triangulartriangles @anotherlovefool

@sinmp @taru-nami @disc0dild0s @boredwithlifeatthispoint

@whotdefak @zforgottensniper @lunarapple @softi-911 @softhanyu

@coca-cola-fiend @chibiduck

@violentlynerdy **

@kaulitzer **

@3v33373 **

@notplutos **

@cheetosins **

@lcst-at5ea **

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