#jason: and you didn’t tell anybody??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightwing-s · 3 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.

It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.

Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different.

You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.

Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.

You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.

Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone.

Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?

Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.

You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet.

You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?

So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.

It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.

The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.

He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?

Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.

You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?

After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.

“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.

You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there.

So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.

The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.

Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.

You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.

You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.

An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.

Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie.

He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now?

But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.

A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away.

In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory.

It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.

He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.

When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.

“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.

And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.

The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could.

By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.

“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.

You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.

You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.

The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind.

Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?

Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.

Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”

Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.

“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”

“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.

“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”

Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…

The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.

“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”

He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.

He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”

You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.

“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.

Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.

That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.

“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”

His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.

“Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”

It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.

While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.

Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.

Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.

It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes.

Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.

“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.

It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.

When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it.

Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.

“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.

The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.

He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?

When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”

“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together. We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”

Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.

Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?

Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.

“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.

“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”

He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.

“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”

“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”

He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company.

The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.

“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”

“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.

“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”

For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.

“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”

He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.

You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.

He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor.

“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.

You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.

You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.

A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.

“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.

“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

397 notes · View notes

thealtoduck · 9 months

Text

I Want It, I Got It

Batfamily x BatCat!Bro!Reader

Warnings: BatCat!Bro being a problem child…

BatCat!Bro Masterlist

Summary: Batfam is realising a bunch of their stuff are missing and then remember the son of one of the worlds greatest theives lives with them…

——

”Has anyone seen my headphones” Jason asked as he came down to the living room, looking around for them. The others hadn’t seen them and helped Jason look, a while later you came downstairs seeing the others searching for something.

”What’s up?” you asked casually.

”We’re looking for-…… Y/n are those my headphones around your neck?” Jason asked in silent anger. ”Maybe” you answered innocently. Dick then glanced over at you and exclaimed ”Hey! That’s my hoodie!”. Tim then noted ”And those are my shoes!”.

”Y/n, have you been stealing their stuff?” Cassandra asked. ”Uhmmm…” you started and then turned around and sprinted away. ”Get him!” Jason yelled and him and the others started chasing you.

They did catch you eventually but you put up a good fight. It took 3 people to carry you down to the couch for an interregation. They put you down on it and surrounded you. ”Wanna explain why you’ve been taking our stuff?” Tim asked.

”Because i wanted it….” you answered as if it was obvious. Dick then questioned ”Really? Didn’t anybody ever teach you that stealing is wrong”. They all then noted your blank facial expression making everybody immediately realise the answer, with Jason stating ”Oh my god, no one ever taught him that stealing was wrong”.

”Oh yeah, right, son of Gotham’s biggest klepto” Tim stated. ”Y/n, what did your mom teach you about stealing?” Dick asked softly. ”Don’t be a pussy, just take it” Y/n quoted making the others look at each other and Dick then instructed ”Okay, so forget what your mom taught you and start by telling us what more you’ve taken”.

”It’d be easier to just show you my stash” you said standing up. ”You’ve got a stash?” Tim questioned as you lead them through the manor. You took them to your room and opened your closet revealing a pile of your siblings stuff.

”How come Alfred hasn’t noticed this while cleaning?” Cassandra asked. ”He knows, but he says having a hobby is good” you answered casually. ”Y/n, you don’t have to steal our stuff you can just ask us when you want to borrow it whenever you want” Dick explained with a smile.

”Okay” you said understandingly and then pointed at the pile asking ”In that case, can i borrow all of this for the rest of my life?”. Your older siblings looked at each other with a puzzled expression. ”Goddamnit Dick, now he has us cornered” Jason said frustrated.

Bonus:

”So, how come you didn’t take anything from Damian” Cassandra asked curiously.

”Come on, steal from Damian?… I don’t want to get murdered” you explained.

#batfamily x male reader #batfam x male reader #dc x male reader #dc comics x male reader #batfam x male!reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #batboys x male reader #batcatbro reader #batcatbro male reader #selina kyle x son reader #selina kyle x son!reader #bruce wayne x son reader #bruce wayne x son!reader #dick grayson x brother!reader #jason todd x brother reader #tim drake x brother!reader #cassandra cain x brother!reader

799 notes · View notes

spoilers-ahead · 10 months

Text

okay!! now that it’s not 2am for me, i’m going to post my selkie!jason todd hc’s straight up au apparently!

(uh. this was supposed to just be a list of hc’s but i got slightly,,,, carried away)

his selkie skin looks like an oversized red hoodie in his human form, and is just warm enough to help him survive new england winters.

when the summer heat becomes unbearable, he slings the hoodie around his waist

alternatively, he just coasts it out underwater. perks of living in a coastal city!

willis todd was a selkie. he used to tell jason stories of what it was like to swim through the big, wide ocean. of how freeing it felt. how different it is, from the smoggy, heavy air of gotham --- different, but both theirs, in their own right.

but to be honest, jason doesn’t remember much about the stories he was told, or really, anything about willis --- he had been in and out of blackgate for most of jason’s life, working for two-face to try and make ends meet, before dying.

what jason mostly remembers, are the warnings. don’t let anybody know you’re a selkie. don’t let anybody find your skin. they will find it, and they will use it to control you. even decades later, jason would still remember those warnings.

catherine is the one who teaches him how to swim, who helps him trial-and-error his way into putting his skin on, and learn how to make the transition seamless.

after she dies, jason spends three months as a seal, to just... exist. forget.

although jason technically lives on the streets, whenever he can;t find food, whenever he can’t find somewhere warm to sleep, whenever just being human becomes too unbearable, he spends the night as a seal. he ends up spending more time in the ocean, than on land.

that’s not to say he’s very good at being a seal --- he barely knows how to swim, has to learn how to fish the hard way.

when bruce finds jason stealing his car tires, he marvels over how nice jason’s hoodie is, soft and fluffy even after all of jason’s time on the streets, especially given the condition jason is in, ribs showing from malnutrition, and the worn and raggedy shape of the rest of his stuff.

jason is skittish when he goes to live in the manor, even after a few weeks. he always adopts an expression particularly similar to a cornered wild animal around alfred in particular, alfred, who keeps on trying to take his hoodie away, purportedly to wash it.

alfred eventually gives up on trying to force jason to wash it --- he figures that as jason becomes more comfortable living at the manor, he’ll wind up telling them why he’s so protective over that hoodie, and they can work something out then.

whenever wayne manor overwhelms jason with how big and how decadently expensive all the decor is, jason runs away, run to the ocean.

jason doesn’t actually end up telling alfred and bruce that he’s a selkie --- bruce just has a ridiculous amount of motion alarms, which are triggered every time jason ran off. he had followed jason the third night, and saw him transform.

bruce doesn’t tell jason that he knows, assuming that jason kept this a secret because he didn’t fully trust either of them. he would later learn that he was right in this assumption (a rare win for bruce in terms of emotional awareness)

except jason doesn’t fully trust either of them, even after a few months. bruce impulsively decides to do a few things --- a) tell jason about batman and robin and his crime-fighting secret identity, and b) tell jason he already knows about him being a selkie.

jason is absolutely bamboozled by the fact that bruce knows, and yet hasn’t tried to take his hoodie to control him, or to stop him from playing in the ocean for a few hours.

in fact, (under alfred’s encouragement) bruce offers to take him to the ocean during the day, so he can get “a proper night’s rest that a growing young boy such as himself would need”

jason remembers what his father told him, to never trust anyone, never let his guard down. but bruce has known about jason being a selkie for so long, and he didn’t take his hoodie or try anything. of course he can trust bruce.

and when he tries on the robin costume for the first time, it fits perfectly. just like his hoodie, his second skin. it fits just like magic.

oh, it’s a little loose in some places, the legacy of dick fucking grayson a little heavy sometimes, but he’ll grow into it. he’ll make himself, if he has to.

also, jason finds the fact that even though he’s a friggin’ selkie, his callsign is a bird (a robin, no less) incredibly ironic and funny

being a selkie is actually so useful for vigilantehood. the amount of people who talk freely, openly, and loudly about their drug smuggling plans near the ports is quite frankly, ridiculous.

honestly, towards the end of his robin years, jason remains genuinely surprised nobody catches on to him or his tactics yet. bruce is very proud.

even though jason is safe, has been safe for three years, and trusts bruce with his life, his skin, and everything, old habits are hard to break. so he has his hoodie on when he goes to find sheila.

and anyways, he wants to see if sheila is a selkie too. he’s taking biology right now, and they’re learning about punnett squares. jason’s never met another selkie before, other than willis who he barely remembers. there’s a possibility that sheila knows something, anything, so he has to try.

sheila gets a glint in her eyes when jason mentions that he’s a selkie, tells him that while she’s not one herself, she’s familiar with the myth. she has long suspected that willis was a selkie, she tells him, and she’s glad to have confirmation.

jason positively vibrates with excitement, can’t wait to ask, to pester his mother (mother!) with questions upon questions until.

until.

sheila doesn’t do anything after she gives him to the joker. she just smokes and smokes. and she doesn’t tell the joker about his hoodie, despite how it would have been much easier for the joker to destroy him that way. much more painful too.

small mercies, he supposes, in between hacking coughs that brings blood bubbling up his lips.

after he dies, his hoodie is ripped and in tatters from the crowbar, with burns along the edges from the bomb. bruce has to carefully peel it off his body.

when jason was alive, his magic kept the hoodie in perfect condition, always. even when the rest of him was covered head-to-toe in mud, or dripping sludge from the nasty gotham sewers.

bruce stares at the same hoodie, blood-soaked and mangled, so incredibly dissonant from how he remembered it on jason, when he was bright, whole, and alive.

he can’t stand it. the hoodie that was so precious to jason, that was jason, at the core of him, in this state. dirty and ripped and devoid of the magic jason had exuded.

in a moment of desperation, late at night, bruce asks alfred to teach him how to sew. he doesn’t dare to practice on jason’s beloved hoodie --- instead, he starts with the suits in his closet, grabbing the first one he sees, regardless of price. rips a hole and sews it back together over and over until he perfects his technique.

and then he washes the fabric gently, using baby fabric cleanser and scrubbing for hours upon hours until the last traces of the deep-set brown stain from jason’s blood washes down the drain.

he painstakingly sews the scraps of fabric back together with a red thread, carefully sourced to match the hoodie to try and make it flow seamlessly like it used to.

it doesn’t work, not exactly. despite his best efforts, the creases bruce had carefully sewn together are prominent and thick like scars, littering the soft fabric.

so he gives up. he hangs it over the grandfather clock entrance to the cave in his study. brings it with him every time he visits jason’s grave, because he doesn’t ever want to keep jason’s hoodie away from him, but he also can’t bear for it to get ruined.

dick visits him. a rare occurrence, these days.

dick yells at him, as he is wont to do.

these days, it feels like they spend more time angry at each other than not. dick says that this isn’t right. isn’t fair to anybody, not to alfred, not to himself, definitely not to jason. he rants, jason deserves to be remembered as he was in life, not frozen in death.

perhaps he is right. bruce is not unaware of the state of violent, cutting stasis he is in, this putrefaction of his life. and he is certainly not unaware of how it is affecting the people around him. dick. alfred. the neighbor’s kid, the one who wants to be robin.

bruce tries. not for himself, but for tim. for alfred, for dick. even for stephanie brown, who sometimes, when she smirks just right, or says something with just the right twang, he swears he can see jason in her.

he still can’t bear to put the hoodie away, because jason deserved better than to be forgotten, so he folds it gently and places it in his closet instead.

he also can’t bear to look at it for very long, so he forces himself to every single day.

it’s different from the glass case that houses robin’s tattered suit in the cave --- that, is a reminder of how he failed robin. this, this is salt in a constant, stabbing, festering would, reminding him of how he failed his son.

it was stephanie, that eventually helped him figure out what to do with the hoodie. when she was young, young enough to cry at ripped pants and skinned knees, young enough that her mother hadn’t touched the drugs yet, her mother would dry up her tears, give her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before patching her pants up.

what not many people know, is that before crystal brown set her mind on becoming a nurse, she wanted to be an artist, first. and so she grabs her old set of embroidery needles, and stitched little designs. dogs and cats. stars and planets. tools and gadgets.

bruce doesn’t react, doesn’t even move, even as stephanie finishes her story. she hangs there awkwardly for a second, stares up at jason’s suit, waiting for him to respond, before shuffling towards the exit of the cave.

thank you, spoiler, bruce manages to croak out.

ah, yeah, she says, shrugging lightly while slouching in on herself, any time, boss. she walks out, and bruce watches her go from the reflection on the darkened computer.

that night, he takes out jason’s hoodie, smooths it out, grabs his threads, and stitches.

he stitches on constellations, argo navis, for jason’s namesake in the greek myths he had loved so much. a tiny seal, playing with beach balls. little books, with quotes on the sides. a robin, big and bold.

he tries to make it as true to jason as possible, not just in death and in bruce’s memories, but as he was in life.

jason wakes up abruptly.

he wakes up in a coffin, cold, alone, and with a gaping hole in his chest. getting dipped in the lazarus pit only made it worse, only made him all the more aware of what he was missing, all the more conscious of it.

he doesn’t bother trying to learn how to swim with two arms and two legs, instead of two fins and a tail. it doesn’t feel the same. it only reminds him of what he’s lost.

sometimes, on sleepless nights that happen more often than not, he wonders what would have happened if he still had a hoodie, still could swim.

if he still was robin.

and he doesn’t have access to the cave anymore, or to the titan’s tower, or the watchtower, and his memory of the past is still patchy and shitty in some places.

so in a burst of impulsivity fueled by the person he no longer is, he prints out photos of robin’s costume from the internet and recreates it on his own.

if his skin is gone, then fine. fine! he’s perfectly perfunctorily aware that nothing about this resurrection of his is natural. if he doesn’t think too much about it, he’ll be alright. his hoodie, his skin, that was something he was born with, a birthright that died with him.

but robin, robin was something that he helped shape. robin was something that he worked for, changed himself for.

and the makeshift robin suit --- it doesn’t fit him, not anymore. no, it feels wrong, like a child playing with their parent’s suit. or --- he realizes, perhaps more accurately, like an adult realizing they no longer fit in their favorite clothes.

and --- and --- what was the point of it all? what was the point, of trying to make bruce proud of him, of getting dick’s approval, of trying to futilely save people over and over again from the same gallery of supervillains who keep on escaping from prison?!

and what was the point of carving out a space for himself if the joker was just going to beat him out of it, and if tim drake was going to insert himself in the hole he left behind?

and then the next thing he knows he’s in titan’s tower hitting tim drake over and over again because who let him? who let him take jason’s role as a son, as a brother, as a hero? how dare he?

but when he’s slit tim’s throat and torn the ‘R’ off his chest, jason doesn’t feel any better. the robin suit still doesn’t fit. his hoodie’s still gone.

he’s starting to think it never will, not again.

sometimes, when he gets tired enough to let his mind wander, he wonders what happened to his suit.

he’s pretty sure he died with it, so either the hoodie is with the joker, batman, or... gone entirely. (it’s not like they found willis’ skin after he died. maybe selkie skins just disappear in a cloud of sea foam once they die, or some little mermaid shit like that)

it’s a cold comfort, that nobody can manipulate him now. nobody can control him --- not even batman.

(bruce had thought about it. when he first had his suspicious regarding who the red hood was, before he knew there was any trace of the son he once had left. he thought about using the hoodie, using jason’s selkie skin to coerce him, at least to stop murdering people, to stop hurting their family.)

(he would never go that far, in retrospect, or at least, he doesn’t think he could ever. to do that to jason, betray his trust so thoroughly and completely... but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t consider it.)

bruce reflects on this as jason reveals himself, the joker tied up at his feet with a gun pressed to his head, and venom spitting from his son’s mouth.

but when he lifts the batarang to hit jason’s gun, or wrist, or anything that’ll force him to drop the gun, he realizes that his hands are shaking.

and when he throws the batarang, he knows a millisecond after he’s let go, that he’s miscalculated the ricochet.

so when jason escapes that night, bruce knows he’s fucked up.

jason goes off the maps, completely. bruce doesn’t know where he is, if he’s safe, if he even made it out of the explosion that night.

it takes weeks. weeks for bruce to track jason down, from meticulously documenting the dropped threads of where the red hood was pulling strings in the gotham underworld behind the scenes, to tracking security cameras with facial recognition.

once bruce manages find where he’s staying, make sure he’s safe, he knows what he wants to do. and, he knows what he needs to do.

jason gets a package in the mail, five weeks after his disasterous meeting with batman and the joker. unmarked, unsigned, no return address.

when jason opens the box gingerly and carefully, he holds on to his skin for the first time in years. and then, and then, and then --- something right slots into place. his fingers brushed gently over the tiny spotted seal he knows he used to look like, the books he remembered ranting to bruce about for hours on end.

the robin, on the top left, over his heart, big enough to have changed him, yet small enough to not define him.

it’s not perfect. it doesn’t even fix anything, not entirely. he still fights with bruce most times he sees him, tries to punch dick in the face, steadfastly ignores tim and steph the entire time.

but it’s something. it’s something, and the next time nightwing, batman, spoiler, and robin fight a gang on the docks, the red hood gives them a helping hand before jumping back into the ocean and swimming away.

fin!

wow this got long

#jason todd #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #selkie!jason #dick grayson #stephanie brown #tim drake #catherine todd #willis todd #that one selkie!jason au #i swear i will turn this into an actual fic one day #anyways about the using embroidery to fix ripped clothes thing all i can say is WATCH HI MOM #it's SUCH a good movie and i guarantee it will DEVASTATE you in ALL your little mommy issues glory #like you think the batfamily comics/fanfics have an amazing nuanced complicated take on the parent-child dynamic?#this movie will BLOW your fucking SOCKS off. and best part of all: you can watch it WITH said parent #and it won't be as horrible of an experience as showing them encanto/turning red/eeaao!#in fact your parent will probably like the movie too and be reminded of THEIR own mommy issues :D #admittedly it's slightly different from the examples i listed above bc it's more abt what it's like to never reach ur parent's expectation #rather than an exploration of complicated parenting but it's still very relatable and very very good #the best part is you can find it all for free on youtube. also note that i mean the recent chinese movie not the old 70s movie #asteria's fics #i'm never writing a fucking flash fic on TUMBLR of all text editors again #shouldve written this out on a google doc first but i genuinely did not think this would get so long T.T #you can probably tell from the first three (3) bullet points that this was supposed to be a hc list before... it stopped being a hc list #guys i started writing this at 12 PM #IT'S NOW 9 AWOGEJAWOIG #my writing

673 notes · View notes

ghost-bxrd · 4 months

Note

ok you said go wild and i will fully embrace that. i wanted to brainstorm about this idea I had and had also posted but like in a sentence, when it’s more of an outline. it’s of a robin!tim that can sense dead people so when the red hood makes his debut he’s naturally curious and tim follows him around and jason obviously realizes, holds up a knife to his throat and startles when tim asks “how are you here” with just no regards for his own safety and genuine curiosity?? literally not knowing he’s jason but jason stops and goes “you know who I am?” and tim whispers “I know you died” and jason coils back because that is as much confirmation as he needs cue panic because the kid knows surely then the bat knows too and that just won’t do, so in his panic he ends up kidnapping the kid and taking him to his safehouse where he keeps pacing because jason needs answers and he refuses to get them torturing the kid (because fucking kid had gone out looking for him despite knowing the red hood had it out of his head, did this kid even have any self preservation skills? he didn’t even seemed fazed jason’s back??which wow, hurt not gonna lie) then when tim wakes up because jason knocked him unconscious the reveal happens and Tim is so shocked that Jason is shocked because bitch I thought you knew!!! what how the fuck would I know!! chaos ensues but then jason abruptly realizes this is great! his plans did not derail *looks at timbo munching his food and watching indiana jones* his plan with the bat he means

Jason, sitting in a room with all his plans on fire: This is fine :’D

No but seriously, I LOVE a Tim with the self preservation instinct of a wet paper towel. He’s a competent teen vigilante, but where it concerns the Bats (and especially his hero, Jason) he’s an absolute human disaster.

Ok but first of all we need to talk a bit more thoroughly about “sensing the dead” thing. Dead as in ghosts? Or dead as in— murder victims and such. Either would apply to Jason if we go with a “Death clings to people who’ve seen beyond the veil” scenario, but Tim’s thoughts would differ vastly upon first meeting the Red Hood.

And Jason, poor Jason, the Pit Madness didn’t stand a chance faced with what is essentially a toddler looking at him with wide and curious eyes, so damn trusting despite that knife to his throat, and he’s just losing his mind because he could have slit Tim’s throat and nobody would have found out until it was too late. What if Jason had been literally anybody else? The kid would have died.

Obviously this Robin can’t be trusted to keep himself safe/alive, that means Jason has to do it for him. Easy. He can do this. It’s cool. Jason is freaking the fuck out.

Tim, upon realizing that the Red Hood is Jason, promptly goes from mildly alarmed over his kidnapping to ✨starstruck✨ and steadfastly refuses to leave Jason’s safehouse unless Jason agrees to come back to the manor. No, he doesn’t care about the multitude of death threats (he totally calls the bluff from the get go).

Jason promptly decides to make the best out of a shitty situation and pretends to be an evil kidnapper and just— keeps dangling the baby bird over Bruce and Dick’s head, slipping them concerning photos (Tim wasn’t exactly happy about the “hostage photo shooting session” but he agreed after Jason promised to make him his special coffee flavored cake) and telling them he’s torturing their Robin with a crowbar (because Jason is a drama queen).

And you know what else would be funny? If, after a few days, Tim slips out to go on patrol with Jason. He completely ignores Bruce and/or Dick when the call out to him and actively helps Hood with his crime stuff (while also sneakily forcing Hood to cut down on the killing by about— 80-90%).

Bruce and Dick are fairly convinced they’re looking at a brainwashing situation.

#brainstorming #jason “’I did not sign up for this’’ Todd #Tim ‘’try getting rid of my NOW bitch’’ drake #and maybe his ability to sense the dead comes in handy with cases #oh who am I kidding it definitely does #Bruce and Dick tearing the city apart looking for Tim #meanwhile Tim: blackmailing Jason into making pancakes with coffee flavor #it’s a disaster from start to finish but somehow it works out #jason todd #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #robin #tim drake #red hood

178 notes · View notes

a-dam-leo-valdez-lover · 3 months

Text

Reunion

Leo Valdez x Fem reader

This takes place after the events of the second great prophecy, Y/N was on the Argo II with the 7 and is a daughter of Apollo but really could be anyone. Y/N is mourning the loss of her best friend and crush Leo and when everyone gathers for the memorial of his death things change. Don’t judge me too hard its been a few years since I wrote anything and had to start my blog fresh. Not entirely following cannon and while calypso is mention she isn’t actually a part of the story.

It took 3 days of searching before Chiron decided they were never going to find Leo’s body, to declare him dead. It took 2 weeks for Frank and Hazel to go back to Camp Jupiter after Leo’s funeral, Jason followed them a few days later promising he’d iris message Piper everyday. After a month Annabeth and Percy needed to go back to school, it turns out going on a quest really messed up a demigod's grades and makes getting into New Rome university way harder. A week after Percy and Annabeth left camp, Piper went out to visit her dad and for the first time since the quest began, Y/n found herself completely alone.

At first she struggled to find a way to spend her days. Unlike her siblings she lacked any all all skills in archery and Y/ns musical abilities left much to be desired. It was winter at camp so there wasn’t as much going on, most days she spent alone. The snow covered camp was beautiful, quieter than normal it seemed, except for the occasional bit of laughter from the other year round campers. She tried to iris message the others occasionally, shed promised Piper that she would call everyday, but it was never enough. She spent time with will, practicing in the infirmary and getting to know Nico since they were basically joint at the hip these days. It was good to see them happy, but it made her feel more alone. Sure her and Leo were never together, but he was her world, her partner in crime. She never got to tell him she loved him.

Over time though, it became easier. It turns out crushes feel less strong when the one you like is gone, and while Y/n may suck at archery and music it turns out she had a real knack for pegasus training. Plus with all the time in the world to practice she was pretty good with a sword too. Eventually she spent less time moping and being lonely and more time focused on build relationships with her sibilings, especially Will. The two of them would talk for hours on and end and his southern accent, while not quiet like Leo’s was comforting on the night where she had nightmares that kept her up. By default she became close with Nico too, sure they’d spoken on occasion before the quest and became a bit closer while trapped together on a ship for a few weeks, but this was new. He was quiet and didn’t ask too may questions, but he understood her grief better than anybody else.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Nico knew she wasn’t he only one still grieving Leo. He’d spoken to Percy and Hazel a few times and heard through the grape vine how Frank, Annabeth, Jason, and Piper were doing. He could see the sadness that lingered in their eyes, the lack of sleep was obvious, and he knew he had to do something. So it took it upon himself to plan a memorial for Leo.

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

6 months after Leo’s death, everyone came back for the memorial. It was weird, awkward almost to all be together again. On one hand they all knew each other like the back of their hand, but at the same time things had changed, they weren’t in any real danger for once and its almost like they didn’t know how to interact without a monster lurking or the impending end of the world to lead the conversation. Thank gods for Piper, she always knew how to get everyone talking.

"Remember the time Leo pranked Chiron by programming his wheelchair to go backwards only? Or that time he made that robot spider to scare the Athena cabin during capture the flag," she reminisced, a bittersweet smile on her face.

Percy chuckled, "I swore Annabeth was going to kill him for that, i swear she screamed so loud my mom could hear it."

”Rude,” Annabeth tried to be mad but even she couldn’t hide the smile on her face, “but yeah, I was planning my revenge”

She paused, everybody knew what she wanted to say, he died before she got the chance. The room was heavy for a moment before y/n changed the subject.

”You know what I was thinking about the other day, the time he 'accidentally' set the strawberry fields on fire while upgrading Festus's flame system.”

It worked like a charm. The room echoed with laughter and shared stories about the metal dragon and the boy who built it. Y/N listened as everyone talked, but her attention began to drift as she gazed into the sky, captivated by a mysterious glimmer.

Annabeth noticed her distraction, especially because the conversation had shifted a while ago, and asked, "Y/N, do you even know what we're talking about?"

"Festus," Y/N replied absentmindedly, her eyes still lingering on the shiny object.

Annabeth sighed, "No, we're discussing college plans, Y/N have you even heard a word we said?."

Before Annabeth could get into a lecture about how important having a plan is, Y/N's eyes widened.

"It's Festus," She whispered, so quiet almost anybody could miss it She rose quickly from her seat staring at the shiny object in the sky, her heart pounding with a mix of hope and disbelief. The group followed her gaze, their expressions changing from confusion to surprise. A metallic dragon, catching the sunlight, soared across the sky. The sight left them momentarily speechless. Then, realization dawned, and their faces mirrored Y/N's astonishment.

She ran out as fast as she could to the beach where the dragon was landing, when she saw him. Leo Valdez, presumed dead, had returned in the most Leo way possible. The daylight seemed to cast a spotlight on him as he stood there with a stupid smirk on his face. The poor boy had hardly a moment to prepare himself before Y/N jumped into his arms wrapping him a hug.

"What are you—how, I mean..." Y/N stuttered, her voice a mix of confusion and elation.

Leo, with his trademark smirk, simply said, "Surprise."

"Surprise? Surprise? What the heck, Leo!" Y/N's confusion turned into a whirlwind of emotions. "You died. I watched you die. We never found your body, but you were gone. I spoke at your funeral, and now you're back, and all you have to say is 'surprise'? Gods, what is—"

Leo's laughter cut through her words. "Hey, I had to make a grand entrance, right? Can't just show up without a little flair."

Y/N's frustration shifted to a mixture of relief and exasperation. "Flair? Leo, you had us all convinced you were gone. What happened? How are you here?"

Leo scratched his head, a habit that hadn't changed. "Long story short, Festus and I took a detour in the labyrinth. Ended up in Ogygia. You know, Calypso's island? Time flows differently there, and by the time we found a way out, well, time had moved a bit faster here."

"Ogygia? Calypso? Time travel?" Y/N's head spun with the unexpected twists.

"Yeah, yeah. I've got a lot to catch you up on," Leo grinned. "But one thing's for sure, I'm back, and we've got some serious catching up to do."

Y/N's initial shock transformed into a grin. "You have no idea how much we've missed you, Leo Valdez."

As they walked back to camp together, the reunion echoed with laughter, questions, and the comforting feeling of having a friend thought to be lost returned.

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

Later that night as the campfire crackled, casting a warm glow on the faces of the reunited demigods the Apollo cabin led the campers in a a few songs and Leo entertained the crowd with his tales of defying death. The atmosphere was one of joy and celebration, as the group sat together, reveling in the miraculous return of their comrade.

As the night unfolded, the campfire stories wove a tapestry of memories, both old and new. Y/N, caught up in the camaraderie, joined in the laughter and shared anecdotes. However, amidst the festivities, a moment of quiet reflection struck her. As she looked at the boy in front of her smiling and laughing her heart suddenly felt like it was being pulled in a few directions. He was really back. Maybe it was the days excitement or too much smoke inhalation or a combination of the two, but Y/N couldn’t breathe.

Pulling away from the group, Y/N wandered to the edge of the camp, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. The gravity of Leo's return, the mourning that had transpired, and the overwhelming joy of having him back weighed on her. It was all too much. Not to mention him being alive meant she’d have to deal with the whole unrequited crush thing. Not that she could even think about it right then, because Leo, sensing her retreat, followed her to the quiet corner.

"Hey, Y/N, everything okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

She hesitated, then sighed. "It's just... Leo, I thought you were gone. We all did. Losing you was... I can't put it into words. And now you're back, and it's so much to process."

Leo nodded understandingly, pulling her into a comforting hug. "I get it, Y/N. It's a lot. But I could never leave you behind, you know? We're in this together."

His words resonated with Y/N, and as Leo held her, she felt a mix of emotions pouring out. The weight of grief mingled with the joy of reunion overwhelmed her, and tears flowed freely. Leo just held her, it was almost enough to make her feel better on the spot. As the two stood apart the rest of their friends watched them whispering to one another.

”So when are the two of them going to admit they’re in love” Frank joked.

”Y/n talking about her feelings? It’s never going to happen” Jason laughed receiving a slap in the arm from Piper.

”I wouldn't say never,” Nico said , “she thought she missed her chance once she won’t let it happened again”

”Well lets just hope its soon, because I cannot hear about how ‘y/n does like me like that’ from Leo again when its so obvious to everyone else she does' Piper laughed looking at her two friends.

This is the first thing I’ve written in a long time but hopefully it’ll get better. Requests are open and please let me know if you want a sequel to this or anything else. Also lmk if you want to be tagged in the next one!

85 notes · View notes

chelseeebe · 1 year

Text

pick a side or i’ll pick you both. (part two)

blood, guts and gore. cheating, smut.. idk what there isn’t in here.

summary: what happens when the hunter becomes the hunted? does anyone make it out of hawkins alive?

a/n: idk if i like this hehe. i’ve also not really read it through bc i detest reading anything i’ve written so excuse any mistakes. i’ve written a small epilogue for this which i’m gonna post separately soon!

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent @nope-thanks @secretdryrose @bibieddiesgf @val-writesstuff

part one. | part two. | epilogue.

for a memorial, things were pretty wild. suppose with the whole town still reeling from the murders, it was to be expected that people wanted to let loose.

including steve.

who was sat jabbering on about nancy and the amazing memories he held with jason. utter bullshit. but he was incredibly intoxicated so you’d let him off.

you stay away from the drink, nursing a singular beer all night. too afraid to get drunk and let go of your inhibitions. unsure of what you might let slip.

eddie was at least keeping his part of the deal, sat in the corner with jonathan. feeding him shots and occasionally disappearing to the garden to smoke. you watched on anxiously. getting sly looks from eddie every now and again.

they weren’t exactly telling you much.

he nods towards the stairs, standing up and walking away. you waited a moment before following. fobbing steve off to a member of the basketball team sat next to you.

you have to open every last door and eventually find eddie perched against the sink in the bathroom. gnawing on the skin around his fingernails.

‘finally,’ he remarks, throwing his hands up.

you lock the door behind you and stand opposite him, ‘so? what did he say?’

eddie sighs, finishing off his drink, ‘well, the bad news is that he definitely thinks you had something to do with it.’

‘what?’ you hiss, widening your eyes at how nonchalantly he just said that.

‘but,’ he pauses for dramatic effect, ‘he thinks steve’s involved.. some jealous ex thing, he wasn’t really making sense at this point.’

you exhale, so jonathan doesn’t necessarily think you killed nancy. just that you helped steve do it. which wasn’t really any better.

‘fuck,’ you sigh, rubbing your forehead. where the fuck do you go from here besides the obvious?

‘hey, maybe it’s not all that bad.. he doesn’t think it was you exactly, we could just.. convince him it was someone else?’

‘he thinks it was steve,’ you say pointedly, ‘my boyfriend? the entire reason we started this shit in the first place?’

‘yeah so.. we frame someone else. one last kill.. murder-suicide. someone you really have it in for,’ he shrugs, his calm demeanour was really irking. he should be more scared.

you ponder for a second, you didn’t really hold hate for anyone apart from nancy. well, maybe there was a few people. tommy fucking hagan for one. steve’s desperate best friend who you were sure definitely wanted to fuck your boyfriend.

but why would he murder any of these people?

maybe nancy was some weird homoerotic jealousy thing.. higgins because he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble? leaving jason, who you were sure he’d never even spoken to.

‘i don’t know,’ you shake your head, stuck on where to go from here.

killing jonathan was an option. get rid of him before he could spill anymore of his stupid theory to anybody else. he was the only person that had suspected you.

the police had partially moved on from the school. looking further into the community for answers. grilling innocent people on their whereabouts last week.

someone bangs on the door, screaming about needing the bathroom and interrupts your entire conversation.

you hadn’t thought about how you’d get out of the bathroom with eddie. how strange it looked the two of you being in here alone.

you look up at him and then the window. his eyes follow your gaze and he immediately shakes his head no.

‘no. i’m not jumping out of the fucking window, are you crazy?’

‘what else are you gonna do?’

‘why don’t you go out the window? i was in here first,’ he hushes, the desperate party goer now slamming the door.

‘i’m not going out the window,’ you look around desperately for anyway out of this, ‘get in the bath.’

‘what?’

‘bath,’ drawing back the curtain and gesturing for him to get in.

he scoffs but admits defeat as he climbs into the white tub, it was a hell of a lot better than falling thirty feet to the ground.

you pull the curtain back, hiding him behind the thin plastic. gathering yourself for a moment before opening the door.

the desperate attendee in question is jonathan. looking a pale shade of green and covering his mouth. he doesn’t even acknowledge you before pushing past, hunching over the toilet and emptying his stomach.

god bless eddie who was now guaranteed to be stuck in the bathroom for at least another hour.

it gives you a small giggle as you make your way back to steve. now stood up, wildly gesturing around and still boring the pants off of everyone in the room.

the party had died down in the early hours and you’d managed to get steve to bed. though, it was a struggle carrying him up the stairs. even now he was talking about nancy and jason. you’d wanted to just let him go. let him fall and then maybe he’d shut up about his dead ex.

eddie had escaped back downstairs at some point and had passed out next to robin on the couch, lying over each other in a mess of drunken limbs.

steve falls asleep sprawled over the bed, one arm draped over your waist, rambling about how good you were and that you always do so much for me.

he had no idea.

you hadn’t really been sleeping lately, far too much swirling around your brain to shut it off. horrifying nightmares of the pool of blood surrounding nancy. the gargling sound higgin’s had made as he met his end. the sheer look of terror on jason’s face as eddie had taken his life.

though you must’ve dozed off at some point. being woken by steve’s groaning.

‘hungover?’ you ask, opening one eye to peek at him.

‘you could say that, yeah,’ his voice rough, one arm extending out to pull you closer.

‘you’re lucky i bought you up here.. you’re heavy as shit,’ you chuckle, running your fingers through his messy hair.

this is why you had to do what you did. for moments like these. where it all seemed worth it.

‘mhm thank you,’ he squints at you, a small smile on his face, ‘definitely feel better waking up next to you.’

you return the smile, humming in response.

‘y’know what would make me feel even better?’ he states huskily, moving on top of you, his smile replaced with a little smirk.

‘hmm? what’s that?’ fingers intertwining in his hair, moving your legs for him to slip between.

he responds by kissing your lips. you ignore the smell of alcohol and last nights party, returning the kiss. you two hadn’t had sex since.. well, since before you’d brutally killed his ex girlfriend. not for lack of trying, though.

his hand slides up your thigh, reaching your pajama shorts while his tongue makes its way into your mouth. his fingers toy with the elastic waistband and you move your hips against him, feeling his growing erection.

your shorts are halfway down your legs when the door knocks. eliciting a deep groan from his throat, although he doesn’t pull back in hopes they’d go away.

they don’t. knuckles wrap against the wood once again.

‘what’d you want?’ he hollers, still on top of you, elbows digging into the mattress either side of your shoulders.

the door creaks open and you’re not at all shocked to see eddie stood in the doorframe, ‘we uh- we wanted to make coffee.. couldn’t figure out your machine,’ he utters and you swear you can see the slightest smirk.

steve exhales sharply, ‘seriously?’

‘yeah man.. people are dying down there,’ eddie states, as if it’s the most serious subject in the world.

steve looks back at you, ‘i’ll be two minutes,’ planting one last kiss before rolling off of you with a grumble.

you pull the duvet up, eddie’s gleaming eyes not leaving you once as steve pulls on his discarded jeans from last night.

‘lead the way, coffee man,’ eddie laughs, still looking at you.

steve pushes past him, making his way down the hallway but eddie doesn’t follow. lingering in the doorway with a smug grin on his face.

‘dickhead,’ you mouth, attempting to bore holes in his head with your eyes. he most definitely waited for the perfect moment to come and interrupt. it was kinda his thing.

‘whoops,’ he shrugs, turning to follow steve down into the kitchen.

good god you could’ve slammed his head into the damn doorframe until that stupid look was wiped right off of his face.

you give steve five minutes before huffing and getting out of bed, walking down to the full kitchen. you can vaguely hear robin and steve arguing over something stupid.

eddie clocks you first, eyeing your exposed thighs before meeting your gaze. same sly grin on his face.

you roll your eyes, ignoring his very existence and wrap your arms around steve’s waist, laying your cheek on his spine.

he jumps slightly but quickly realises who the hell is touching him and settles into the embrace, still trying to demonstrate how to use a coffee machine to robin. ignoring the feeling of a certain pair of eyes boring into your back.

you tumbled into the back of his van, suddenly extremely grateful that he’d decided to bring this instead of your moms car. though the risk of being seen in this death trap was much higher.

you’d gone to tommy’s house to try and end this shit tonight. luckily, his bedroom was on the ground floor, there’s be no scaling of any buildings tonight.

it hadn’t particularly gone to plan though. you’d perched on either side of his window for what felt like forever when he stumbled in, carol fucking perkins in tow. of course. shit could never go to plan, could it?

you’d had to call it off. having never tackled a double kill before, you were not going to try tonight. no, it wasn’t worth it. not when all you were doing was trying to end this shit.

you yank the mask off, lifting the black polyester gown over your head, your shirt rising up as it’s launched into the corner. of course he’s watching, desperate for any last slither of skin.

does murder make you horny? was it the fucking mask? is that what this was? a mask kink?

his bottom lip between his teeth was driving you nuts. you wouldn’t ever do this. not normally. but you move over to him on your knees, not bothering to fix your shirt.

he opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt whatever unintelligent spiel he was about to come out with, pressing your lips to his, clambering onto his lap.

his hands immediately find their place on your waist, working on fully removing your shirt. he lifts it up and over your head, resuming the passionate kiss as soon as it reached the dirty van floor.

you waste no time and reach between your bodies, grabbing at his belt buckle and undoing the metal clasp. the kiss messy, full of spit and tongues as you huff, struggling to remove his jeans.

there’s no words spoken, just a silent and slightly aggressive need to get inside of you as quickly as possible. your lacy underwear dragged down your thighs, almost in shreds at the ferocity he’d pulled them down.

your arms hung over his shoulders as he positions himself at the entrance of your throbbing cunt, lowering yourself onto him with a low moan. pausing for a moment to adjust to the fullness.

you don’t wait long before beginning to move, bouncing on top of him, only encouraged by the grunts and filthy words coming out of his mouth. picking up the pace, bare knees scraping against the rough ground of the van.

you throw your head back, whimpering as he begins to buck up into you. his hand slides up from your chest, finding place around your neck, giving it a slight squeeze.

‘holy shit,’ he breathes, your hips clashing against each other as his thrusts get harder, letting him take full control of the situation.

his hand moves down, palming your breast, his teeth almost splitting his bottom lip as he bites down on the skin. deep grunts slipping out of the small gap.

you look back at him, mouth hung open, ‘shit.. i’m gonna..’ the angle hitting perfectly, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your clit at just the right momentum.

‘yeah?’ he barks back, reaching his own climax, thrusts becoming sloppy as your walls clench around him, coming to your own high.

‘fuck,’ you whine, writhing above him, stilling your hips. pausing for a moment to come back to earth. to realise you were in the back of eddie’s old rusted van, his cock still inside of you.

you slide off, perching beside him, scrambling to find your discarded clothes and your long lost sense of dignity.

you pull the strap of your bra back up onto your shoulder, avoiding eddie’s eyes and fumbling for your shirt.

‘that’s not happening again,’ pulling your shirt over your head. it was like an immediate overwhelming feeling of guilt. every time.

‘you said that last time,’ he laughs, sitting back against the inside wall of his van, re-doing his belt.

you glare at him but don’t honour his remark with a response, gathering your things and shoving them into your small bag.

‘that one was all you, remember that,’ he adds, wiping his sweaty face with his t-shirt before pulling it on.

‘maybe if i wasn’t cockblocked, i wouldn’t be so.. frustrated,’ you sneer, crawling over to the double doors.

‘you can just say you want to fuck me.. the world isn’t going to end if you do,’ he shrugs.

‘yours might if you keep speaking like that,’ you warn, going to open the door.

eddie stops you before you can, a hand on your outstretched arm, ‘wait.’

‘what now?’

‘are we really doin’ this with tommy?’ he asks, suddenly completely stoic.

you exhale, ‘i don’t see how else we can end this,’ shrugging, ‘we have to.’

he nods slightly, avoiding your eyes, ‘okay.. as long as you’re sure.’

‘i am,’ you assure, ‘and then we go back to normal.’

since school had been called off for the foreseeable an array of parties had cropped up, including another at steve’s house. you think he just didn’t want to be alone. his parents were on another trip out of town and the house was so big, it’d be stupid not to gather everyone together in his house.

tommy was going to be there. you’d made sure of it with steve, asking under the guise of wanting to know all attendees just in case.

eddie was going to lure him away from the party with promises of a free joint. lucky for you, steve’s house backed onto a large, creepy forest where you’d be waiting, ready to get rid of tommy and dressing him in your murdering costume.

sneaking away from steve would be the hardest part, constantly clutching onto your hand and desperate to not get as drunk as last time in hopes he’d get lucky tonight.

eddie was waiting on your cue, you’d go out first and wait for them both in the forest. everything you needed was hidden out there before the party started.

‘i’m gonna go freshen up and get another drink, i’ll be back,’ you smile at steve, patting his arm and wriggling away from his hold.

‘i’ll come,’ he says, following you in standing up, a quickie in his bathroom would very much suffice.

‘no.. no it’s your party, stay here.. i’ll be five minutes.. ten tops,’ you nod, just praying that he wouldn’t insist.

he doesn’t. thank god. and you slip out of the house through the back door and out of the mossy garden gate, making sure the gaggle of teens in his backyard wouldn’t see you. they were too drunk to even care.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you find the tree you’d stashed everything behind, probably slightly unwise to do this all in the dark.

eddie springs into action the second you’d left, having already been chatting to tommy about the promise of weed, it doesn’t take long to get him to follow.

‘nah, let’s go to the woods.. i don’t want everyone bothering me for freebies y’know?’ eddie coax’s him out of the back garden and further into the forest where you were waiting.

a branch snaps to the left of your hiding spot and you can hear tommy’s irritating voice get louder as they get closer.

as soon as you appear from behind the tree, eddie grabs onto tommy’s arms, holding them in place behind his back.

‘woah woah, what the fuck are you doing?’ tommy scrambles, eyes wide and darting around the darkened forest.

‘oh tommy,’ you coo, walking over to the ginger and shoving the makeshift gag over his mouth, muffling his screams, ‘i wish it didn’t have to be this way.’

you throw the frayed rope to eddie and he wraps it around tommy’s wrists, tying it in what you hope is a tight knot. you’d known that realistically eddie couldn’t overpower tommy for long and as soon as the adrenaline hit, he’d be fighting back stronger.

eddie kicks the back of his knee and he falls down onto the ground, kicking his feet in the dirt, trying with all his might to get free from the ties.

eddie was hyper aware of your decision not to use the mask, the party continuing somewhere in the background, ‘we need to be quick,’ he presses, gritting his teeth as tommy thrashes around beneath him.

‘i am,’ you glare at him.

see, the plan was to frame tommy. make out that he’d dragged you into the forest. attacked you first. you’d just acted in self defence and got him before he could get you. even prepared to sustain a few injuries for good measure.

tommy shakes his head desperately, looking up at you with tearful eyes, the knife reflecting off his glossy eyes. he looked utterly pathetic and you’d wondered how many poor people he’d instilled this level of terror in.

tommy was an asshole, through and through. a real bully. and you’d detested the fact steve was still friends with him. even if it was because they’d been friends for so long as steve tried to tell you.

‘it’s not nice being on the receiving end now, is it?’ you poke him with the sharp knife, bent down to his level.

no no. he incoherently mumbles through the gag. he’d seemed to calm down slightly, maybe convincing himself that you were playing some cruel joke on him and he wasn’t actually about to die.

‘it’s a shame, really,’ you pout at him, ‘steve really likes you.. god knows why, i bet he’ll be really sad that you’re gone.. oh well.’

tommy’s breathing is laboured, sweat pouring from his forehead and you step between his legs, gripping onto the handle of the knife.

maybe that was a mistake as his legs clamp together, trapping yours in between his causing you to topple down onto him. cursing as you hit the ground, the knife falling somewhere in the dust.

‘shit,’ eddie hisses, stumbling to find the knife as tommy writhes around, trying to grip onto something, anything that’ll help him.

you get your bearings again, standing up and placing a foot on tommy’s back as he attempts to army crawl away from you.

‘you fucking idiot,’ you say through gritted teeth, eddie finds the knife amongst the leaves and hands it back to you, cussing at tommy for making him crawl around in the dirt.

you plunge the knife into his back, blood immediately soaking through his t-shirt as his arms flap around. a muted scream escapes the gag and you twist the knife slightly before removing it from the wound.

for good measure, eddie gives him a swift kick to the ribs, stopping any attempt at getting back up. you stab him again, this time in the side as if it was a desperate attempt to get him off of you in the pretend struggle.

he groans, head dropping to the floor, eyes drooping as he fights the imminent death. the blood seeps into the ground, colouring the dried autumn leaves a shade of red.

you watch as his movements get slower, weak attempts at shouting for help in his final breaths. until they stop. and he lays lifeless on the mud in front of you.

you swallow before looking at eddie who had that psychotic look on his face. it should’ve scared you, his eyes glinting with pure evil intentions. but it doesn’t. you know exactly how he felt. the euphoric feeling coursing through your veins.

you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. when his eyes meet yours, that familiar feeling throbs in your stomach. were you turned on by this? or was it just a need to excrete the energy that had built up inside?

you’re quickly snapped out of whatever weird trance you’re in when the party’s music stops and calls of your name ring out in the back yard.

shit. steve was definitely wondering where the fuck you’d gone. tommy had taken slightly longer than anticipated to get rid of.

you push the knife into eddie’s hand, ‘cut me,’ offering your arms to him.

‘no, what the fuck?’

‘eddie it has to look like a fight, cut me!’ you insist, almost grabbing the knife and doing it yourself.

he hesitates, ‘shit shit shit,’ he exclaims, lifting the knife to your arm.

‘do it!’

he does, sliding the knife across your arms and slashing the skin, drawing blood instantaneously.

you bite down on your lip, humming at the searing pain but urging him to continue. gesturing to your midriff area, blood dripping from your arms.

he glances at you quickly before pulling the knife across the skin, cutting open your shirt in the process. you nod over to tommy, if he was found tied up and gagged, you’d have another problem on your hands.

eddie saws off the rope, stuffing it into his jacket pocket alongside the gag. it had been planned meticulously you see, eddie was going to hand you off to whoever you saw first in the garden, rush off to ‘call the police’ and rid himself of any evidence in his van. everybody too preoccupied with your wounds to notice him disappear.

the police would come and you’d put your sixth grade drama classes to good use, telling them that tommy had pulled you out into the woods and just went crazy, slashing and stabbing at you. but oh no he’d dropped the knife and in your desperate attempt to survive you’d picked it up and stabbed him instead.

you were sure you could improvise if it really came down to it. it wasn’t like you weren’t actually in pain, the gash on your stomach stinging as the hem of your shirt rubbed against it.

eddie throws his arm around your waist, walking back to the now quiet party, ‘so i just.. found you out here, right?’

‘right,’ you breathe, gripping onto his denim jacket and preparing for the performance of a lifetime, ‘you were getting some fresh air.. heard a scream and found me.’

you near the gate and turn to nod at eddie, pulling your best in pain face as he swings open the gate. horrified party goers turn towards you, mouths wide at your gushing wounds.

you can vaguely see steve pushing through the crowd, sprinting over to take you from eddie’s hold.

‘what- what happened? what did you do?’ steve shouts, taking ahold of your arm and slinging it over his shoulder.

‘i-i didn’t do anything.. she was just out there like that.. i don’t know,’ eddie stutters, looking at you to back him.

‘it wasn’t.. it wasn’t eddie, steve.. tommy,’ you nod, putting on your best terrified face, clinging onto steve’s shirt as he sits you down on one of the garden chairs.

‘tommy? what are you saying?’ his eyes go wide at the accusation, crouching down to your level, keeping one hand pressed to the gash on your stomach.

it wasn’t really deep enough to cause any serious problems but christ was there a lot of blood.

‘he.. told me to follow him.. that you were out there, so- so i did.. and then.. there was a knife..’ you trail off, looking down at your wounds, hands beginning to shake.

you were really selling it, god, if this shit was a movie you’d for sure be owed a few awards for this performance. it was easy to cry seeing as eddie’s knife work actually was pretty painful. burning as the blood leaked into your clothes and onto steve’s hand.

it was the longest night of your life. spending hours at the hospital patching you up and making sure there were no internal injuries. and then carted off to the police station the second the nurse had okayed you going home.

steve followed along, waiting on the uncomfortable chairs as you re-told your story for the umpteenth time. ensuring that every detail was the same as the last time you told it. occasionally letting a few tears fall but putting on your best brave face so the officers take pity on you.

they do eventually. telling you that you’re so incredibly strong and they’ll be in contact soon about how they’re proceeding with this all. it worked though. they’d bought your story and you could get back to some sort of normality.

just this time without nancy or tommy fucking hagan trying to interject themselves in your relationship. the thought of having steve to yourself, finally, was enough motivation to sell this damn story and get it done with.

you hadn’t really thought about the implications of being the one to finally catch and kill the ‘infamous hawkin’s killer’. turns out just about everyone in the town now worshipped you. you were practically famous.

kids at school would come to you in the hallways, giving their sorry’s and telling you just how heroic you were.

it was sort of nice. well, after pushing aside the burning guilt inside of you.

you couldn’t fester on it too much though. what was the point? even if you did come clean at this point, who would’ve believed you? it was over. no reason to live in the past. it’s not like you could bring anyone back to life, so why not enjoy the glory?

steve was very clearly also enjoying the second-hand fame, making a point to throw his arm around you in the hallway and making sure everyone knew that you two were together.

in the whirlwind of shit you’d kind of neglected everyone else. especially eddie. though, you were kinda glad that part of it was over. you didn’t need to be reminded of the shit you’d done every time you saw dark curly hair. about what you’d done together.

he bounded up to you one day at school, ‘i need to talk to you,’ his voice hushed, hand gingerly grabbing your arm.

‘i’m kinda busy right now eddie,’ you reply, grabbing your books from your locker, trying your hardest not to look at him.

‘it’s important,’ he dips his head, ‘it’s about.. you know..’

‘well then it’s not important,’ you bit back, slamming your locker shut.

‘please.. i-i don’t know what to do,’ he pressed, desperate to get you to listen.

‘find me at lunch or something.. i’ve gotta go,’ you walked off, finding steve who was waiting for you up ahead, disregarding whatever eddie was talking about immediately.

it didn’t matter now.

‘steve?’ you call out. if his parents car wasn’t there, which was rarely, you’d just walk in. he’d get you your own key if he could.

you’d move in if it were up to you. since everything had died down a tad, you’d been closer than ever. exactly why you’d done everything in the first place. it was perfect.

there’s no response, which is odd. his car was outside and the door was unlocked. usually he’d come bounding downstairs at the sound of the door closing. nothing.

you pull a face and swing round into the kitchen, wondering if he’d just not heard you. nope. empty.

‘steve?’ you ask again, met with the exact same silence as before.

‘if you’re playing some prank on me, i will punch you,’ you warn, beginning to climb the stairs.

still nothing.

his bedroom door was closed which was also usual if his parents weren’t home but maybe he’d fallen asleep after basketball and couldn’t hear you.

you twist the handle, slowly opening the door so that you could scare him.

you’re met with the image of steve’s limp body bundled into the corner, head hanging down to his chest. your stomach flips, not knowing if he was even still alive.

‘he’s not dead, don’t worry,’ eddie’s voice calls out, appearing from behind the en-suite door.

your eyes widen at the sight of him. what the fuck had he done?

‘eddie.. what the fuck? what have you done?’ you manage to croak out, slowly moving towards steve’s body.

‘i wouldn’t if i were you,’ he comes further out of the bathroom, knife in hand, pointing the sharp edge at you.

you stop dead, holding a hand out as if to offer peace, ‘what do you want?’ you breathe, chest heaving.

he flicks the knife at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down, ‘i’ll explain.. you should sit though.’

you oblige, sitting gingerly on the edge of the mattress, flitting between steve and eddie who was now making his way to you.

‘i-i don’t understand.. what’s going on?’ you blink, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

‘well.. as i’ve been trying to tell you for the past month, the cops found my dna on that knife you used to kill mr. hagan.. had my shit on file from some stupid drug charge last year,’ the corners of his mouth curled into a small grin.

‘wh-what?’

‘oh yeah,’ he nods, now towering above you, ‘haven’t left me alone since.. see, at the school, that shithead janitor saw two people running away from the crime scene and they’ve come to the conclusion that i must be involved. i mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it?’ his eyes are dark, menacing.

you’d never been scared of him before. not even when he’d spilled jason’s guts in front of you. but he genuinely terrifying now. as if he was possessed.

‘eddie.. i didn’t- i’m sorry, we can fix this,’ you nod, a desperate attempt to reassure him, ‘hawkin’s police are fucking stupid.. we, we can come up with some story.. i’ll help you.’

‘yeah, you will,’ he laughs and it sounds demonic, nothing like him, ‘see i’m pretty much fucked.. so i had a thought,’ the knife flings around in his hand, still aimed toward you, ‘wouldn’t it be just so killer, heh.. ya’ see what i did there, if mr. ghostface’s final kill was the queen of hawkins.. the invincible girl, no longer invincible.’

your lower lip begins to quiver, tears welling in your eyes. if you weren’t in this predicament you’d throw up. finally understand the terror you’d inflicted on so many people.

‘you don’t have to do this.. there’s still a way out.. for both of us,’ you swallow, trembling as he is mere inches away from you.

‘oh but i do,’ the cold metal of the knife meets your cheek, stinging as the tears inadvertently roll down your face, ‘it was you who dragged me into this fucking mess and just left me to catch the blame on my own.. you don’t get to live if i’m going down.’

you can’t see him clearly at this point, a blurry vision of dark hair and evil, menacing eyes.

you’re angry. angry at yourself for getting into this situation. angry for ever trusting eddie fucking munson. it’s like a fire rising from your stomach. the same rage you felt as nancy begged for her life.

‘i was gonna make him watch,’ he nods his head towards steve, ‘but i don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon,’ a roar erupts from his stomach, a psychotic laugh as the knife runs down your cheek surely drawing blood.

‘please,’ you plead, trying one last time to make him listen, just let you go and it could all be forgotten about.

‘n’aww, it’s kinda pathetic that you, of all people are begging for me to save you,’ he laughs again, moving the blade to your exposed neck.

your face scrunches in anger and the back of your forearm comes up to knock the knife out of his hand. it clatters to the floor and you take the opportunity to stand, barging past eddie and going straight for the door.

‘you bitch,’ he spits, jumping up and just about managing to grab onto your sleeve, jerking your back towards him.

his fingers dig into your arm, spinning you around to face him. a ferocity on his face that you hadn’t seen before. he wasn’t even this angry with jason.

his free hand comes up, landing a solid backhanded shot at your face. knocking the wind out of your stomach. you stumble for a moment, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in your head.

in the chaos, you trip over steve’s extended foot, landing on his carpet with a thud. eddie takes advantage of the higher ground, shoving you over fully. dropping to his knees, placing them either side of your rib cage, his full weight on top of you.

you struggle to regain your breath, balling his t-shirt in your fist, mouth wide as your lungs refuse to fill back up.

‘eddie..’ you manage to gasp out, voice hoarse. a desperate plea.

he scoffs, ‘it’s too late.. i can’t help you now,’ his hands come up to your neck, aggressively pressing down against your trachea, knocking any last air from your throat.

his hands tighten. his breathing heavy as your vision goes black from the lack of oxygen. your nails dig into his wrist in a last ditch attempt to get him off of you.

‘this could’ve all been so easy.. this is your fault,’ he frowns, staring down at you as your legs kick out beneath him, ‘i did this.. for you,’ he’s panting as if he was the one being strangled to fucking death.

the fuzzy feeling in your head started to feel good, like there was no point in fighting this anymore. it was almost calming. warm and welcoming.

your eyes close fully, surrounded by darkness and that uncertain feeling of what was to come next. this was it. this was your karma. it was deserved. you’d taken so much from other people, now it was your turn.

eddie’s body is thrown off of you, a jumble of voices invade the room but you’re too weak to even open your eyes. falling into what you assume was a certain death.

well, you weren’t dead. the bright white lights pretty much solidified that fact when you opened your eyes. you knew damn well that there were no pearly gates waiting for you on the other side.

you blink, unsure of what you were even looking at. the beeping sound confirms that you were in hospital, the sterile smell filling your nose as you come around.

two heads appear above you, though you can’t fully make out who the fuck it is.

‘ma’am?’ one of the heads calls out, his voice ringing in your ears.

your mouth tastes like metal. dry and gross. it makes you want to barf.

‘ma’am..’ he says, more certain this time, ‘we’d like to ask you some questions about your involvement with an edward munson?’

318 notes · View notes

apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

Text

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Jason stays largely impassive as Alfred checks him out. The only “wounds” he actually managed to obtain were two long surface level cuts from a buff guy with a lucky knife, the mildest limp known to man, and some bruises. He’s got bigger stuff to worry about than what little damage he took.

Somehow Mask had gotten wind that Hood had set his eyes on his most recent purchase and had responded by borrowing some of Penguin's men while the man was in court, catching Jason off guard. That either meant that Jason was getting sloppy or his collective had a mole.

A goddamn mole. Whoever it was must’ve been stupid or crazy to think they could get this over his head. Now he’ll have to deal with them, and soon, before he starts on any more plans.

There’s a pat on his arm that has Jason turning his head.

“There you go, Master Jason. Hardly a scratch and everything is treated.”

“Didn’t pay all this money on armor to get a scratch from a whole buncha pocket knives and baseball bats, Alfred.”

The old butler only raises a brow.

“Yes well, a particularly nasty bullet wound in Master Dick’s leg says anything is possible on a given day. Armor or no,” Alfred points to the two raised lines on either side of his forearms where he’d blocked that buff guy's slash for his face. “And clearly some fellow with a pocket knife did get a knick or two in.”

Jason shrugs. The guy had been aiming for his face. His face that had only been a target because he’d blown up the old helmet to catch Batman’s attention and his forearms and following Bruce’s rules were a small price to pay for those kids' safety.

“Still beat him though, so I think I’m good,” he spares the man a small fleeting smile.

Alfred worried too much over Bruce. Jason didn’t want him doing the same and stressing overtime about him as well.

“Of course,” Alfred says softly, patting him on the arm once more before turning to check up on whether Dick’s gotten enough food in him to get another dose of the good stuff.

Why the man had decided to fly off to help Jason when he was already injured was anybody's guess. Jason certainly wasn’t going to think about it too hard. His feelings around Dick were enough of a nightmare to detangle.

Jason’s ready to take that as his leave, wanting out before Nightfall and Batman - or godforbid, his replacement - throw his entire mood away, when a lone figure comes ambling into the Cave on foot and sends everyone on alert.

Dick hobbles rather gracefully for someone with a hole in his calf over to the Batcomputer to check the entrance cameras. Alfred admonishes him for putting too much pressure on his leg so soon after he’s reopened his stitches but follows after him nonetheless.

Jason closes in not far behind the two, hand hovering over his gun as he eyes the lone figure. They’re not in a rush or anything, that’s for sure. He’s never seen someone who wanted to kill him have such low gumption.

It hits him and he relaxes his hand a second before you call out.

“It’s me, guys! I just needed a break from Bruce so I walked!”

Your voice is different, he notes. Hoarse, fraying at the edges. Jason is intimately familiar with the feeling of falling apart. At Bruce’s hand too no less, which is undoubtedly why you're walking instead of pulling up with him. He can’t find it in him to feel too bad though. You might’ve taken a bullet for him but you were still a dick.

Alfred takes to guiding you towards the med bay, talking to you like you’re old friends, but Jason’s never seen you before outside of tonight. As far as he knew the only female vigilante operating out of Gotham had been Batgirl before that fucking clown got to her too, and the only other woman of the house didn’t live here anymore.

Which is yet another thing Jason really doesn’t want to think about. He had felt pretty damn vindicated to learn about Y/n’s separation from Bruce until he pieced together the timeline and that the most likely cause for the split had been himself. He can admit to feeling bad about that for her sake. When he was a boy her and Bruce had seemed happy, he didn't want to be the cause of that ending for the woman.

Something harsh strikes through his chest and he forces his gaze off Nightfall and Alfred.

He needed to tell Y/n. She deserved to know - he wanted her to know! - he just didn’t want to deal with the inevitable. With Bruce the uncertainty pissed him off. He had needed the truth so bad it burned through him harsher than the pit snapping his mind back together ever could.

Problem was that in the end the answer had actually hurt. For all his speculations and phantom conversations with the man he once happily called “dad” none had been enough to prepare him for the reality of watching his father choose The Mission over him in real time.

Maybe that wasn’t a fair assessment of the situation but to that Jason says: “So what?”

Maybe Bruce did love him, and maybe what made him throw that batarang wasn’t resentment or disappointment, but he still threw it. Through everything Jason still came second and Bruce still didn’t love him enough to fight for him.

He can’t keep ignoring that it wasn’t him that drew Bruce to Ethiopia that April; it was the Joker that drew Batman. Bruce hadn’t even been looking for him, and he could understand why, but that didn’t mean he had to be okay with it.

Either way, the little boy Jason used to be had stupidly expected to be proven wrong in that dilapidated apartment building.

Jason hasn’t listened to that particular ghost since having to hold his throat together.

“Red!”

He blinks back into himself to find the rest of him already in a defensive position at Dick Nightwing’s proximity.

“I’ve got some files for you if you’re interested. We haven’t been able to figure out what all Mask’s recent moves have meant, but if you cross reference it with whatever info you’ve got maybe…” the look he sends Jason feels pointed so he huffs and moves closer.

“I’ll be able to catch him up. Yeah, Wing, thanks.” He crosses his arms and raises a brow. “Whatdya want for it?”

Nightwing turns to him slowly. “Nothing. I don’t want a damn thing, Red,” he shrugs. “Consider it a favor.”

“Right. A favor.”

Jason doesn’t buy that that’s all he wants for a second. The more plausible reason is that the harddrive he’ll be given is bugged. So far they haven’t been able to find any of his operation and he knows Bruce has been chomping at the bit to find out what hole in the wall he crawls into at night.

His line of speculation gets cut off by Nightwing starting to prattle along about the contents of every file he’s giving him.

“I figure I could give you an update on Penguin’s case while you’re here too,” he glances back for Jason’s stiff nod before doing just that.

Jason half pays attention to flashes of Cobblepot taking the stand while largely doing his best to remember which of his guys ever worked closely with the man who’s nice and calm being held under public scrutiny.

It was City Hall’s worst kept secret that they were bought out by some big boss or the other. Cobblepot wouldn’t be convicted and they all knew it. Gotham’s politicians couldn’t ever leave well enough alone though and just had to go the extra mile of broadcasting their cities inner failings to the rest of the country.

“Hey.”

At the sound of his voice Jason immediately snaps his gaze to Nightwing. He doesn’t look back this time, eyes continuing to stay focused on the batcomputer’s giant screen.

“I just wanna say the offer still stands. Jay,” his name comes off rough from the other’s mouth. “I might not…agree with what you’re doing, but call me and I’ll be there, okay? My number’s still the same. If you remember it?”

The not-glance Nightwing sends him makes his throat constrict suspiciously. This was exactly why he was avoiding the acrobat. He’s all the more glad he decided to get a replacement instead of toughing this encounter out sans helmet.

“Yeah, I remember it,” he forces out.

“Good.” Nightwing continues, voice still oddly pinched while he drops another file into the harddrive’s folder. “That’s good.”

The trial tapers off after that and Grayson stops drawing out their conversation, closing out the tabs he’d opened and leaning over to snatch out the drive.

When he turns to him the older’s face is noticeably paler than before and his hands are clammy when he gives Jason his lackluster reward for putting up with the night’s bullshit.

He forces his arms down to his sides when Grayson stumbles into the table, no doubt bruising his hip, before stabilizing himself again with a tiny laugh. Jason will never admit that as much as it irritates him, he still admires the way Grayson manages to keep the sound from cracking at the edges.

Ever the fucking paragon.

“Thanks,” he nods to the medbay where Alfred and Nightfall are talking as she’s bandaged up. “And go lay down already before you collapse. I will laugh at you if you fall.”

“Heh, yeah, I’d better,” he runs his hand through his hair. “If I pass out again mom’ll kill me.”

Dick’s hand pauses midway through his hair and Jason can tell from the way he goes rigid that his eyes have snapped to where he’s standing.

He huffs, shoves the drive in his pocket and gives the older a mock salute before turning on his heels. On another day he’d probably harp on Grayson for the carelessness, make him squirm just for the hell of it, but he’s reached his people index for the day and he’s got work to do.

His second mother - not counting Sheila and her shitty cigarettes; he hopes she rots - is also someone he does not want to keep being reminded of and staying here will clearly be nothing but that.

She’s a subject he unfortunately can’t stop thinking about now though and he’s so over it his head’s starting to pound.

‘mom’ll kill me.’

Mom.

Y/n.

Jason counts his way through a deep breath. He’s got Nightwing’s information, now he can leave to start sorting his own mess with his people the Bat-Refuted way.

With Y/n he wasn’t going to let himself exist with a child's placations that maybe she’d prove him wrong. He already made that mistake with Bruce. She was his mom. In the same way Bruce was once his dad, but he’s not fifteen anymore and he no longer believes wholeheartedly in the second chance they’d provided. He can’t.

But still, for whatever bastardized mockery of life is in him, he doesn’t want the truth from Y/n as well. So no matter how much he craves to hear her voice again and feel her arms around him, the chances that she’ll reject the son Bruce forced upon her this time round were too high and he was tired of gambling.

He should rip the bandaid off sooner rather than later though, for his sake if nothing else. He wasn’t finished with Gotham yet and all the ‘what ifs’ stampeding over his train of thought could get him killed too early.

Again.

And nobody wants to read about another dead gutter rat who thought he could fly.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! This chapter is supposed to be a brief slow down before I get back into the emotional gutter with part five.

I’m like 50/50 on this. I was trying to make everything connect but I don’t really think I succeeded. And what I mean by that is that some of Jason’s thought processes don’t flow smoothly into one another the way I want, but I’m tired of poking at it so this is what y’all get.

Regardless, I’m not mad at it and if you’d like to leave a comment that’d be appreciated, but I won’t respond cause this is a sideblog. I read everything though. 🫶🏾

Edited (cause I forgot what I wrote) on 3/18/23

723 notes · View notes

tiredtxmblrvet · 2 months

Text

Fic rec friday!

Got this idea from @mediumgayitalian (thank you!)

Below are 5 fics I've enjoyed this past week/recently. (They're all solangelo)

FAR GALAXIES by @rosyredlipstick

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49263694

Summary:

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled out her PADD from her coat, slow enough that Nico only slightly twitched. Jason’s transmission was loaded up on the screen—at the bottom, their signature tag was spelled out. “Guardians of the Galaxy. That supposed to be a joke?” “More like an aspiration,” Jason said. - Space, the final frontier. Or whatever.

Rosy is still working on it, but when I tell you this is absolutely worth it. Nico is 1 part of the Guardians of the Galaxy, and him, along with Piper, Jason and Leo get into many shenanigans in their journey across the stars. I'm just obsessed with Will and Nico's dynamic in this. Rosy is just such an incredible writer, her fics will probably pop up in more of these if I'm being honest.

Solace by @solisaureus

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38228998

Summary:

solace (n.) comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness.

solis (n.) the Latin word for "sun."

I am an absolute sucker for fics that are "rewrites" of canon but that are Will Solace-centric, and when I tell you this absolutely delivers. I loved reading about Will's journey as a healer, how he deals with love and loss, it's just a beautiful fic!

i'm put in awe (of something so flawed and free) by CordeliaRose

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53629369

Summary:

Right. Well. Nico squares his shoulders, reminds himself that nobody’s perfect and this guy has to be ugly, and knocks on the door.

He is met with a Greek God, and forgets how to function.

|||

AKA: the archaeologist!Nico & trauma surgeon!Will AU.

If you're not familiar with Cordelia, they wrote the solangelo bible (AKA August) and are currently writing August(Will's version). However, they decided to bless us with this absolutely adorable Trauma Surgeon! Will and Archaeologist! Nico AU, and it's such a pleasant read. Will and Nico's dynamic is flirty and adorable, and the rest of the seven are such sweet friends to Nico. Plus Nico is autistic coded in this and I'm a sucker for that.

my lover's the sunlight by demigodbeauties

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30187689

Summary:

It’s his Olympic debut. In a few short hours, he’ll be the only man skating on the ice sitting before him. He’ll be skating in the Men’s Singles Short Programme and representing all of the United States. He’s in a city he hasn’t seen in years, skating a brand new set of routines, and he wants so desperately to win.

Figure Skater Nico di Angelo has a run in with Ice Hockey Player Will Solace. It doesn't go too smoothly, but then again - when does it ever?

Olympic Skater!Nico and Olympic Hockey player!Will. This story is warm and heartfelt, and the "enemies" part of the "enemies to lovers" tag is more misunderstanding than anything else. I felt myself wanting to cheer for Nico as he performed right there along Will, and #Solangelo even trends on twitter in this LOL.

Got a Pretty Face (Pretty Boyfriend, Too) by @buoyantsaturn

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33772453

Summary:

Was Will flirting with him? Or was this just his attempt at being a friendly neighbor? Either way, just to be safe, Nico should probably make it known that he’s off the market. Right? A casual mention of a boyfriend would work - he’d never had to let anybody down easy like that before, but he’d seen it in, like, movies. Thanks, I’ll see if my boyfriend is interested. Perfect. Now, he just had to say it.

Will moves from Austin to a small town in Texas, where he immediately takes up three jobs, and does not have the time to be flirting this much.

CJ never ceases to amaze and impress with their work, and this fic is no exception. I'm not normally one to read Leo/Nico, but I found I really enjoyed their dynamic in this fic, and the use of "sunshine" and "freckles" as nicknames for Will absolutely made me smile. Basically Nico and Leo live in Texas and Will works two jobs, and meets both Nico and Leo separately, and the two both start crushing on him. Shenanigans ensue. I adore this fic.

Okay that's all! I'll probably keep doing this until I run out of fics to recommend. Have a good friday lovelies!

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #fic rec #solangelo fic rec #percy jackson #Percy jackson and the olympians #pjo

53 notes · View notes

msfcatlover · 1 year

Text

Yet more Reverse!Robins

(Calling back to my tags on this post, and one of the images from this one that live rent free in my brain.)

Joker gets bored torturing Jason on his own after a couple days, and sends out invites to all the other rogues (or at least, the ones he’s pretty sure won’t rat him out and end the fun) about a “surprise present” he’s working on for Batman. Steph has absolutely no interest involving herself in Joker’s nonsense, so she immediately throws it out and focuses on securing her area of the city to keep her people safe. She doesn’t think much more of it.

Six days later, Tim shows up at the door of one of her clubs. Not in costume, barely hiding his identity, hardly even armed (like, the bare minimum for walking around this part of town this late at night, and most of that is artfully hidden in his crutches & leg braces.) Aside from Damian or Bruce crashing the party to accuse Steph of stuff (that like 60% of the time she didn’t even do,) none of the Bats have ever approached Steph in an actual place of business before. She’s curious. She tells security to let him in, and show him to her table.

“Mr. Wayne,” Steph says, because fuck it, if Tim’s only going to mess up his hair and barely slap some concealer over the dark circles under his eyes, she isn’t gonna maintain his identity for him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Tim shakes her hand, looks her dead in the eye, never glancing at her guards or flinching at his name. A proper little businessman, in a ratty band t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. “I need a favor.”

“You? Need a favor from me?”

“Yes.”

“The great Timothy Wayne?”

“I didn’t come here to play games.” Tim glares. “Yes, I need your help. Yes, it has to be you. Yes, I am out of other options. No, I am not above groveling—”

“Really?”

“Steph.”

“Don’t,” she growls back, “try to play this like we’re friends, Tim.”

Tim crosses his arms and scowls off to the side. “…Fine. We’ll keep it professional.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you on your knees.” Tim’s eye twitches as Steph takes a sip of her drink. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

“I told you, need a favor,” Tim repeats.

“Well, that could be anything,” Steph says, rolling her eyes behind her mask.

“My little brother’s missing.”

Steph’s drink goes down the wrong way. She forces herself to swallow her cough. Steph clears her throat to mask it, and sets her drink back on the table.

Tim continues like he didn’t notice. “The police can’t find him. The Bats can’t find him. I have been leveraging every advantage I’ve got, but nobody has seen him in over a week—”

Ice slips down Steph’s spine as she remembers the invitation she’d thrown out right around a week ago.

“—but you have contacts they don’t.” Tim takes a deep breath. “I know you hate us, I know you…” His eyes flicker towards her guards. “…You’ve made your opinions very clear—”

“I should certainly hope so,” Steph mutters.

“—but whatever you think of me, or Bruce, or Cass, Duke, Damian, anybody, Jason’s innocent. He’s suffered enough.” Tim has a warning in his eyes: You’ve hurt him enough. Like she’d actually tried to kill the kid or something (if Steph wanted Jason dead, he’d be dead; honestly, she didn’t even leave any permanent damage. Her lesson was no harsher than anything any of them got on a bad patrol, she was just more open about the point she was making.) “He’s just a kid.”

“And yet, you keep letting him out into this city.”

Anger flashes across Tim’s face, but he visibly chokes it down. “I’m not having this conversation with you. This has nothing to do with Jason’s hobbies or field trips, or whether or not you approve of them. This is about a 15yr old kid, missing in Gotham City, following the biggest Arkham breakout in the last 10yrs. Are you going to help or not?”

Steph sighs, propping one elbow on the table and leaning on her fist. “What have you got for me?”

“Jason snuck out for a party nine days ago—the night of the breakout.” (Translation: Jason was in uniform, probably on patrol.) “We have a system where even if he doesn’t want Bruce to know what he’s doing, Jason still calls me to check in every 2hrs. He checked in a little before 2, because he said he was about to be ‘really busy’ and didn’t want me to worry. I told him to go home. He told me he’d be fine, that he wasn’t anywhere near the mayhem.” Tim’s expression is flat, dead. “He didn’t check in again. Nobody’s seen or heard from him since. There have been no ransom demands. Last sighting was outside of Genevieve’s in Burnley.”

The invitation arrived six days ago exactly.

Steph needs to go. Steph needs—Steph needs to find that letter, she can’t remember if it had an address or a time, she can’t—

“I’ll pay whatever you want,” Tim tells her, seemingly unaware of how Steph’s breath is caught in her lungs (remembering what it was like to be 16, tiny, and at the whims of a madman. Eight full days. Did Steph suffer that long? She doesn’t think so, but the time all blurs together under the pain…) “Money is obviously no object. Weapons? Name them. Tech? I’ll build it for you myself. I can wipe your record clean. I can keep the Bats off your back. I can—” Tim swallows. “My balance isn’t the best anymore, but if you want me on my knees, I can beg. If you need me to demonstrate my gratefulness or if you need someone to hurt, I—”

“Oh my god, STOP!” The table wobbles as Steph jumps to her feet, nearly spilling her ginger ale—but then, she doesn’t really want it anymore. Her stomach is one giant knot, and she’s really regretting those onion rings she had earlier.

“Please,” Tim says, soft and far more earnest than Steph can deal with right now. “He’s my little brother. I… it’s my fault he thought he could go out like this. If there’s anything you can do…”

Steph needs to get to her office. She needs to find that note, and if she can’t find it, she needs to find Joker’s delivery boy so she can beat the answer out of him. She steps away from the table. “I’ll get back to you.”

Tim grabs Steph’s wrist as she passes by. “Please—”

“I said, I’ll get back to you,” Steph snaps, yanking her arm out of his grip. She looks away from Tim’s wounded expression. “I can’t do anything if you’re dragging me down.”

Tim’s shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you.”

“…You owe me. Whether I find him or not.”

“Thank you.”

Steph walks away. She doesn’t look back.

(She shoots Joker in the throat, grabs the nearest heavy object—curved & metal, but much else doesn’t register—and beats the clown’s head in while screaming insults in League dialect. She strips down to her suit’s under layer to keep Joker’s blood away from Jason, tossing her gloves away without caring about fingerprints, and kneels down in front of Jason, making herself as small as possible. She undoes the bonds, checking his injuries, and when Jason collapses into Steph’s arms, she holds on. Steph cradles Jason in her arms, helps him rehydrate from her water bottle, and apologizes in every language she knows for not being there for him sooner.)

(Without the mask or the armor, with Steph’s hair pulling wild & sweaty out of its braid, she doesn’t look nearly so much like the villain who hurt him before. Jason wonders if he’s dead or dreaming, to finally have the hero he looked up to for so much of his childhood decide he’s worth saving after all.)

(Steph would go to the ends of the earth to protect him from that point forward. When questioned, she just mutters something about not “letting all that work go to waste.”)

169 notes · View notes

doors-to-infinity · 1 year

Text

Thoughts about DP x DC crossovers with Batfam.

I don’t remember where the post was but OP pointed out that Danny in canon didn’t seem to have trauma about his death. He also often enjoyed having his powers.

Rather, it was how it affected his life - ghosts attacking him at school and in Amity in general and endangering his loved ones and home - and how people viewed / treated his alter ego that gave him issues about his new existence.

Which I find very interesting because it shifts the dynamic around with certain characters.

An example: He would still relate to Jason, but not about the trauma of dying / being revived, but rather how their lifes changed irrevocably and people treat them differently.

(I’m ignoring the fanon that Jason is a ghost / halfa of any kind. The Pits supernaturally enhanced his body, but he seems to be still fully human.)

It’s also very interesting when it comes to Duke who through his background - meta, son of a corrupt god, with the potential to become immensely powerful, be immortal, etc. - is not only in an unique situation with the Bats but also when it comes to a majority of people. He and Danny can relate to each other over being completely different from everybody else around them and how these changes isolate them.

At the same time they’re from very different places and have different values. Canon ! Danny is acting as Amity’s protector out of necessity and would stop instantly if there was no need for his role anymore. This we see in several episodes.

Which makes sense because his home used to be a normal city and Danny used to be a privileged because white, average kid in a white family in likely a safe part of Amity. Ignoring his parents’ disregard for lab safety and OSHA regulations. (Not that Hartman intended that reading intentionally.)

Duke has a desire for normalcy. At the same time, he grew up in the Narrows in Gotham as a black kid in a black family who raised him with strong values, a sense of responsbility, and anti-authority. He can’t ignore what’s going around him because that would endanger him and his family and others.

And he wants to inspire and help Gotham’s people to become better, safer, happier. He dedicates himself to his role as a vigilante and daytime hero. He’s on the track to be a Justice League leader.

----

Canon ! Danny doesn’t seem traumatized by his death. But other characters might be like Tucker or Sam or Jazz, and Danny can’t and shouldn’t help them with that.

They can’t tell anybody else in Amity. They can talk about the accident, but only that it badly hurt Danny. Their trauma is partly connected to Danny’s resurrection which confuses their grieving process. Any information about that could endanger him.

Part of Batfam, if you go with mutual trust, can relate with them because of what happened to Jason. Both sides of the crossover would gain people who get it, who they can talk to without burdening either Jason or Danny, but aren’t mired in the specifics of their respective trauma.

#dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #danny fenton #jason todd #duke thomas

290 notes · View notes

swtnrcmnt · 1 year

Text

୨୧ — new girl; e.m

i’m absolutely in love with the whole girly!popular!reader x eddie trope so here u go ! enjoy 💕

also this is kind of based of my “eddie x coquette gf post”

- didn’t understand the hype at first since he had never met you but heard so so much

- all he knew was that you were the new cheerleader girl who just moved to hawkins

- the entire hellfire club is head over heels that he just has to meet you at this point to see what all the fuss is about

- one day he hears tears for fears blasting in the distance to find out it’s coming from a cherry red convertible driving into the parking lot

- and then he sees you

- he finally understands why you’re all anybody can talk about

- with those frilled socks, short skirt, and hairbow? how could anyone not talk about you?

- he thought you were the most delicate and gorgeous being to walk the earth with simply walking past him

- so he tries to build up the courage to say hi, and introduce himself before you get brainwashed by jason and his group into thinking he’s the devil himself

- one day he sees you at your locker, completely focused on re-applying your lipgloss and sees this as his chance to say hi

- so he does, and the second you look up at him with those sweet bambi-like eyes he might as well just fold for you right then and there

- he walks you to class, and to his luck you agree to check out hellfire after school

- the rest of the day he’s insanely nervous, and scared that you won’t show up

- until you do, and he’s honestly shocked you did

- so you sit next to him the whole campaign

- while he cleans up, you guys talk for a bit about yourselves and school, him cracking a few jokes

- one of them made you laugh so hard you put your arm on his and he freezes up because at this point he has a big fat crush

- he walks you to your car and (smoothly) asks for your number to which you oblige and write it on his forearm next to a little heart

- he slept like a baby that night 🤭

- so when he tells the rest of the club at lunch about their special guest, they all think he’s bullshitting them

- that is until you walk over and ask what time it starts, that they all just look at eddie with the most profound shock on their faces

- because how on earth???

#swtnrcmnt ۵ #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x girly!reader #eddie munson x coquette!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson headcanons

189 notes · View notes

bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

Text

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn't die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 12/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Twelve: Middle Child

Tim came with me to get my cast off as promised. I felt queasy like I did all the other times, but I leaned forward and covered my face until the feeling passed. I traded my crutches for a cane, and Tim sat beside me as I gently attempted to stretch my leg. “Woohoo! Last one, Jason!” the doctor cheered. I cracked a smile. I liked her. She’d removed every cast I had from the accident. At first, it was because I thought she was pretty, but I grew to like her demeanor. She had a kid —a toddler— and it sometimes bled into her work. She sometimes baby-talked at me, but I didn’t mind.

“How many casts have you had removed?” Tim questioned.

“The long-arm one, the hip spica, and now this one,” Jason replied, “She’s removed all three. The hip spica twice, though… The bones in this leg wouldn’t heal together, so I had to get surgery which meant I was in this cast for another period. So I guess she removed all five.”

“That hip spica was a yucky one, huh?” the doctor replied.

“Yeah,” I replied. My body had been through hell, but it was healing. Maybe I’d never be the same, but at least I could train again.

“You can go as soon as you stop feeling yucky, okay?” the doctor whispered. I nodded. She left me alone with Tim, so she could grab a treat from her office.

“Jason, are you okay?” Tim questioned.

“Yeah… I’ll feel better in a second,” I replied.

“Does the idea of him returning to finish the job freak you out?” Tim questioned. I never thought about it. I thought about all sorts of things in the hospital, but the clown rarely ever crossed my mind. I wasn’t scared of him. He played a dirty trick and caught me off guard, but he wasn’t the threat everyone imagined he was. The clown was unpredictable, and that’s what frightened people. But I knew better. He had a sick obsession with Batman and was in eternal competition with Robin, but he hated me the most. He hated me because I had a bond with Batman. Batman was different when he was with me. Dick told me that all the time.

“I’m not scared of him. I might be traumatized by what happened, but it could’ve been anybody… Tim, all that Party City freak did was use my birth mom to lure me in and catch me off guard. I hate him for what he did, but it could’ve been anybody,” I answered.

“Is he part of your-?”

I looked up at Tim and shook my head. “I hadn’t thought of him until you asked… And I have no intention of getting revenge. I want to do something on such a large scale that Bruce has no choice but to look at me. I want Bruce to tell me he was wrong,” I answered honestly.

Tim patted me on the back. “I trust you, Jason… And I’ll be there to back you up with whatever you choose to do,” Tim replied.

“Tim, why do you believe in me?” I questioned.

The doctor returned with stickers. I picked one to humor her, and Tim got one for being a good buddy. We met Mr. Drake in the lobby, and he took us for ice cream. I know it wasn’t something Tim’s dad was accustomed to doing, but I had a great time. Janet met with us at the ice cream parlor. For a moment, I felt like we were a family. Bruce was supposed to be like that with me. He was supposed to be my dad, spend time with me, understand me, and-. I missed that more than anything.

Tim enjoyed his parents, and he needed that. "And then, Jason starts quoting the book from memory like it's nothing," Tim half-exclaimed.

It snapped me out of the momentary sadness I felt. "Yeah, but that's not half as cool as when Tim showed me how to develop pictures in a real red room. He's kind of a genius," I smiled. Then my phone rang… And it shattered the moment into a million pieces.

“Sorry, one second. It’s my older brother,” I mumbled as I stepped away to answer his call.

“Dick-.”

“Are you having ice cream with another family on a school day?” Dick questioned. I took my glasses out of my shirt pocket and scowled at him. “Don’t be like that… I’m checking in on you. I heard you got your cast removed.”

“Did Bruce ask you to follow me?” I asked.

Dick shook his head as he crossed the street. “No… But he did say you were mad at him. Can I borrow you for a little while?” Dick asked. I wanted to be cruel, but he caught me in a great mood. I grabbed my cane and met him a quarter of the way.

Dick was cautious once we stood close to each other, not wanting to be the first to start an argument. “Did you throw up this time?” Dick asked.

“Funny,” I rolled my eyes, “And to think I was gonna tell you how much I missed you.” Dick hooked an arm around my neck, nearly knocking me off balance.

“What’s it gonna take to get you home?” Dick asked.

“For Bruce to be normal,” I replied.

“What was your problem with Bruce?” Dick questioned.

“Not a good time… But I’ll tell you when my friend’s parents leave town for work, I promise. Oh, by the way, he’s a big fan, so you’re invited to have ice cream with us, as much as I hate the notion of you meeting my best friend,” I replied.

Dick followed me to the table, and I reluctantly introduced him. “This is my older brother, Dick Grayson. You might recognize him from-.”

“Haley’s Circus,” Tim interrupted. He was practically foaming at the mouth. I hate to say it, but I was jealous.

I swallowed my pride and ate my ice cream because there was no point in me being a spoiled brat about sharing my new brother with my old one… And it was worth the goofy smile on Tim’s face. It felt good to see him smiling. I felt how older brothers felt when they gave the perfect gift. It was nice being able to do something for Tim again. Besides, he’d always be my brother first.

29 notes · View notes

pickleking8 · 10 months

Text

5 - Adoption Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be - Chapter Five

Words: 1,527

Ao3 Link

Previous - Next - Masterpost

TW: kidnapping, mild violence (?) it’s pretty vague, not described in large detail.

————————————–

Red Robin winces as the grit of the rooftop scrapes against his stomach. He squints through his binoculars, glaring at Jason, who at the moment is not being very helpful in their investigation. The plan was to simply tail Jason, find a good time to talk and get him to come back to the manor, and try and get as much information as they could about this frankly bizarre situation. Jason, however, hadn’t given any clues to his unknown stalkers. He was simply… walking. It was infuriating.

Almost all of the family were there. Everyone was interested when they learned of Jason’s mysterious resurrection, and they all wanted to see him for themselves. If you looked carefully, you could spot them, as any Gothamite would tell you. A flash of sunny yellow, or silent purple, or cherry red, or deep moss green. All colors that looked as if they were plucked directly from an abundant flower field when compared to the deep, rich, black that concealed identities and intentions. If the birds were from a flower field, Batman was the pitch-black soil that lurked beneath, harboring all kinds of earthworms and larvae.

Danny was not a trained veteran of Gotham. No, he wasn’t a native. That much was obvious. It might have been the way he walked, shoes slapping the pavement as if he could hardly bear to carry his own weight. It might have been the attention he paid to every beggar, every man with a waterlogged cardboard sign, and every child with hungry faces and quick fingers, as if he was unaccustomed to the desperate eyes that shone from the maws of alleys and the constant scrabbling of the city rats against the rough concrete of the streets. He bore similarities to Gothamites, though, too. Eyes darting around, cataloging exits and entrances, potential allies and enemies, quick as the fingers of the ragged children as they picked your pocket. Always ready for a threat. I’ll reiterate once more, however, that it was quite clear that Danny wasn’t from Gotham. And in these streets, well, that made him quite the target.

Danny, with his shifting eyes, noticed the muggers as he passed the alley. Jotted down the guns, the worn but fitting clothing for a mugging, the knives hidden in their pockets, and which one was most likely to be the leader. She would be most important to take out first. She was cocky, too, arrogant. That, he could tell by the way she stepped out by herself, not even having bothered to draw her gun, but instead putting a hand on his shoulder before speaking.

“Hands in the air, sweetheart,” she cooed, tauntingly and mockingly.

Danny didn’t turn around, even when the grip on his shoulder turned bruising. Instead, he smirked. A simple expression, one that suggested a surety in victory before the battle had even begun. And with a smooth, clean move, he broke her arm. She screamed.

Danny fought like a street kid Danny fought like Jason . Like he had taught himself, out of necessity, and then continued fighting for some reason or another. His movements were an unholy amalgamation of techniques that he must have picked up from a hundred different sources, but his strikes were quick and precise, and within thirty seconds he was standing in front of three groaning bodies, no powers even needed. He, himself, was also in quite a bit of pain. His breaths had become even more labored and he coughed, lightly, before wincing as he touched his fingers to the scar on his abdomen, which was almost certainly leaking thick drops of green and red once more.

Pathetic, he thought, One little fight, and look at you. Can barely hold your own anymore. He quickly shook his head to clear that line of thinking, though. Going along that track wouldn’t help anybody, least of all himself. Once he healed, he would be strong again.

He would be okay again.

—--------------------

As soon as the first mugger stepped out from the alley, Tim was on his feet and stuffing his binoculars in his pocket as fast as he could. The rooftop he was on was tall, though, and several buildings away. Tim risked a glance over the edge, and quickly decided that a twenty-foot drop onto solid concrete would be a poor decision. Glancing back to Jason, he was surprised to see him in the process of breaking the woman’s arm. Within seconds, she was on the ground. Tim paused, and then settled in to watch, entranced, as he efficiently took down the other two that stepped out to defend their apparent leader. Well, efficiently but not quite effortlessly. Tim didn’t miss the way he pulled his punches slightly to avoid stretching his abdomen too much, and he certainly didn’t miss the way he winced and checked his bandages once the would-be muggers were laid in a sprawling heap at his feet. Took down three muggers in thirty seconds.

That’s a mugger every ten seconds, Tim thinks absentmindedly, Impressive.

This only furthered his evidence that this was Jason, though. He fought like a street kid, like he was self-taught, but he also had some professional moves thrown in there. He did it quickly and efficiently, and didn’t shy away from violence. And, just like Jason (and it’s not weird that he knows this, Duke, it’s not) as soon as the fight is done, he lets down his guard. Checks his wounds before he checks his surroundings. And doesn’t notice a fourth mugger taking the frankly smarter approach of stealth. Quiet, footsteps light and knife glinting in his hand. Jason didn’t see him, preoccupied with the considerable amount of pain he must be in, but Damian most certainly did, and with a resounding thunk (Tim winced in sympathy for the guy), the mugger joined his friends in an unconscious heap on the ground.

—---------------------

Danny startled when he heard another thwack come from behind him, quickly whirling around to see a kid in a pinwheel costume holding a (quite impressive) sword, and standing coldly over the body of a mugger.

Must be one of Gotham’s few dozen vigilantes, Danny thinks. In all honesty, Danny’s pretty surprised that this one was tall enough to hit the guy in the right place. He’s short, but carries himself proudly and with a calculated confidence.

So, he’s either good or cocky, Danny thinks, Perhaps both, all the while filing away that information. Well, fuck. What does he do now? They’ve been staring at each other for a solid ten seconds longer than it’s normal to stare at someone, and Pinwheel certainly doesn’t seem like he’ll be breaking the silence anytime soon. Danny opts for finger guns, and immediately curses himself.

“...Thanks for the save, Pinwheel,” Danny manages to say, throwing anything into the now awkward void that sits between them. The guy looks like he’s seen a ghost (heh).

Okay… that was awkward as fuck, why don’t we just leave now before Pinwheel thinks I need help or something. Yep, great plan. Just walk away, Danny. You got this.

Danny slowly pivots on one heel and starts to pick his way through the three bodies that were blocking the sidewalk, arms and legs flopped in just the right position to trip someone (rude of them). This seems to snap Pinwheel out of his stupor, and he seems to be caught in a moment of indecision, eyes flicking all around, to him, to the bodies, to the rooftop, and, surprisingly, to his uniform. Suit. Whatever. He shrugs, winces, and continues walking.

Next thing Danny knew, he had joined the now-five bodies cluttering the sidewalk.

—----------------------

Tim had his head in his hands. So did Damian, but that was mostly in shame. It must have been quite a funny sight, to see so many of Gotham’s vigilante’s standing around only a few bodies, and looking embarrassed , at that.

“Robin. Why would you do that?!” Duke looked close to laughing. Damian was looking less embarrassed and more angry by the second (though he was rather good at hiding his emotions).

“I didn’t know what to do, okay? I couldn’t just let him leave, and that was the first thing I could think of!” Damian spurted this off in a flurry of words, voice tense with the anger that only comes from embarrassment.

“Well, we can’t just leave him here…” Tim trailed off, staring once again in a combination of manic amusement and despondency at the situation. He’d hoped to have more time to gather more information, figure out the mystery that was a revived Jason Todd before approaching him. This was not how it was supposed to go. However, at the very least they could now ask him directly, and try to understand why he hadn’t sought them out on his own. With a sigh, Tim leaned over to pick the kid up. Duke quickly rushed to help.

Fuck, he’s light, Tim thought, We’ll have to give him to Alfred.

With another shared smile with his family, the odd bunch of vigilantes quickly grappled out of sight, taking an injured, and very much not Jason Todd with them.

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

Next - Masterpost

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

Okay, that’s the end of this chapter! This one was really hard for me to write, it took me forever, idk it just wasn’t working out. I’m not very happy with it, but here. Please give me constructive criticism. Thank you for reading!

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

Taglist: @tkiesai

#dpxdc #dcxdp #Danny Phantom #Jazz Fenton #Tim Drake #Damian Al Ghul #Batman #Red Hood #Jason Todd #Tw kidnapping #Tw violence (very vaguely described)#I tried so hard guys #This chapter sucked #Adoption Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be #please give me constructive criticism #did you like my imagery I was proud of that

69 notes · View notes