#and some of the things Jason said about himself because he left whatever small amounts of self esteem he actually had back in his grave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shijjii · 3 years

Text

5 alarms that woke Chad up and 1 that didn't

Pretty self explanatory, noh?

(also, Chad has three siblings, two siblings that are two years older than him (twins, Fynn and Esi) and a sister younger than him by one year only (Adia), and he has two mothers Brianna Johnsons and Aimee Danforth (Fynn, Esi and Adia are Brianna's children) wow this is a long explanation I'm so sorry, please enjoy this thing)

One; cookies and lavenders

Sophomore year was something that he was supposed to enjoy, or at least, that's what his older siblings had told him.

Chad groaned as he sat by the window and waited for someone to sit beside him. Troy was somewhere near his dad, it was Mrs. Bolton's request that her baby boy not be separated from his father while travelling, so Chad was left to his own device, sitting by himself in the bus, looking outside the window as if he's in a movie

The others were already paired off when Troy told him his mother's request, making Chad unable to ask anyone else to sit with him

"you okay there, man?" he looks up to see Zeke standing from behind him. He was paired with Jason, who was already catching his sleep. It was way too early in the morning to even be awake but he did not complain as he knew how long the trip would be

"yeah, man. Just a little bummed, I guess?" Zeke hummed, disappearing into his seat for a moment and popped up once more with a Tupperware in hand "here, help yourself with these. I-Mom made it last night for me" Chad stared at it and took the container from his teammate's hand, thanking him before settling down as the bus started to move

He was too focused eating the cookies that he didn't notice someone sitting beside him until someone elbowed him due to the fact that the person beside him was almost tangled up with his bag

"oh, sorry" Chad looks up to see Ryan Evans, adjusting his lavender newsboy cap

"ish okay" he replies, mouth filled with cookies, Ryan was almost out of the bag's grip on him but he made one mistake and all of a sudden, it seemed like he was back to square one, making him click his tongue in annoyance. Chad settled the cookies in his lap and helped the boy out of his misery

"thanks" once the bag was now on the floor, Ryan thanked him and Chad just quietly hummed as he stared at Ryan and his lavender cap and lavender pants. He looked at the container in his hands before offering some to Ryan, who smiled and took one. He thanked Chad once more before Chad decided he had enough of the cookies and rest his head on the window to catch some sleep

He woke up when something was ringing and vibrating underneath his butt, groggily looking for whatever that was, he finds a phone that was definitely not his, he turns off the alarm and looks at Ryan who was asleep, with his arms crossed and head facing up the ceiling as his newsboy cap covered his face

Chad also noticed that he was shivering slightly and took off his jacket to put it on the boy, adjusting it a couple of times so that it won't fall off, he had to tuck in some of thr fabric and smiled to himself once he was satisfied with it

looking at the phone that was in his hand, he wasn't sure where he'll put it so he puts it inside the pocket of his jacket, hoping that Ryan will notice the phone once he wakes up

Two; illegal

Chad was waiting for Taylor to finish her daily 'light' reading in the library, he didn't really have anything else to do since Troy was off canoodling with his girlfriend

he made an impatient noise once more, making Taylor put her book down "if you don't want to read then just sleep" he looks at her for some time before deciding that she was right. He can just take a nap, so he made himself comfortable and crossed his arms, tilting his head down and closing his eyes. Tuning out the quiet chatter of some students who were discussing the theory of general relativity

He was startled awake as he hears a loud ring from somewhere inside the library, Taylor was almost finished with her reading when she too, was startled by the loud ring

"what the heck" she mumbles under her breath as she looks at the source of the noise, only to see Ryan scrambling to look for his phone to turn off the alarm

He was hatless and one side of his face was red, there were outlines on that side making chad presume that the boy had fallen asleep with his head on the table

The way Ryan rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and look for his fedora that fell on the floor when he was woken up by the alarm was doing things to Chad, and he didn't mind being suddenly woken up if the view was like that

"keep staring and he might melt" Taylor smirked at Chad as she closed her book, he huffs out in annoyance "let him melt then, it's illegal to look that good when you've just woken up" Taylor lets out a breathy laugh and stand up "come on, lover boy. Gabriella just texted me, saying that Troy's looking for you"

They both make their way out of the library, completely unaware of the eyes that trailed after Chad's back

Three; dreams don't count, but if it feels real...

The face Ryan had after he saw the enormous amount of collection of DVDs in their living room was amusing and cute, he had invited the boy over to watch some recorded musicals and Ryan said he'll bring some over, not expecting to see tons of playbills and DVDs. Chad explained to him that his mothers, Aimee and Brianna were quite the theater nerds themselves

The musical that they were watching was long finished and Chad had said something about Troy that just made the blonde burst out laughing, holding his stomach with his hands as he bent over. Chad laughed along with him, but he did not let this opportunity to look at Ryan go to waste. He just stared at Ryan, laughing with him, in hopes to not get caught. The way that the sun shine on him through the window made him look like an angel

After Ryan had calmed down, Chad only noticed how close they were together. He looked at the bright cerulean eyes that seemed to shimmer as the setting sun disappeared into the horizon through the open window

Chad doesn't know who leaned in first but the next thing he knew was that Ryan's lips were on his-

RING RING RING

Chad groaned and opened his eyes. He was just having a good dream when his alarm blared out through his room

"fucking-" he sat up and annoyingly stopped the alarm on his phone. As he sat on his bed in the quiet room, he thought back to his dream and smiled as he remembers the last part before he was rudely woken up by his alarm

"Chad!" snapping out of his trance, he hears Brianna call for him for breakfast

"coming, ma!" he shouted, finally getting up and fixing his bed quickly before making his way downstairs where he hears his mothers and sistsr, singing along with a song that he knows Ryan had sung once under his breath

sitting down on the table, ignoring his family's singing, he had a smile on his lips while his thoughts were filled of Ryan's face and laugh. Ever since the baseball game, Ryan would invade Chad's head at any point in time and it would sometimes get annoying because he can't focus but honestly, it was better than anything else

"mooom, Chad is smiling creepily at the table" Chad snapped out of his trance and kicked his younger sister under the table

"mom, ma, Adia is being offensive" Adia lets out a dramatic gasp and sets her spoon down with a slight thump "what?! I'm not offensive!"

"your face is offensive!"

"alright children, settle down" Aimee said with a snort and put down the food on the table, then they discussed that next week both mothers will have to travel to Chicago to visit their older siblings

Four; let the nightmare pass

Chad asked Mrs. Darbus for a quick break time as he was tired, he was surprised that she allowed an hour of break time. He had not slept very well yesterday night as his mothers got into a car crash. They were lucky that Brianna did not have any major injury but Aimee was the unfortunate between the two mothers as she has a broken arm and a couple broken ribs

the jock lays down in between the seats at the back, not even caring if someone sees him there, he just wanted to sleep somewhere quiet and far away from people. He set a quick alarm on his phone and laid there quietly

with his eyes closed, he thought how were his mothers doing? Were his mom doing okay? Did they eat? And if so, did they eat enough? Was Adia doing okay? He was sure that she was just as sleepy as he was feeling right now but how was she feeling? Was she scared? Of course she's scared, it's their mothers

and before Chad could even worry more, his mind and body has shut down

Ryan was tasked to search for Chad as they were going to start their rehearsal again, he searched every part of the theater for him, only to see the jock laying down at the very back, in between the seats and it was pretty obvious that he was having a nightmare, with the way he was twitching, the way his face would scrunch up and the occasional whimpers that he'd let out

Chad looked very vulnerable to Ryan at that time, he heard from his mother that they shouldn't wake up a person who's having nightmares, you have to let it pass. So he gently raises Chad's head and puts him on his lap, softly pushing his curls away from his forehead and with his other hand, he held Chad's, hoping that the nightmare will go away with the soothing actions that he was doing, not even noticing that he himself was falling asleep

They were both woken up with the alarm that Chad had set, Chad felt something quickly raise his head, a small thud and a sharp intake of breath

He opened his eyes to see Ryan's eyes tightly shut, holding the back of his head with one hand, he had his lips pursed. Quickly turning off the alarm, he then focused on Ryan

"what happened?" Chad rasped out, slowly sitting up and noticed that they were holding hands. He gently squeezed it to get Ryan's attention "I was so startled by the alarm that I hit the back of my head on the chair" Chad snorted and used his free hand to gently caress the back of his head as if it will relieve the pain

Ryan subconsciously leans into Chad's hand and softly smiled at his attempt, he feels Chad's hand carefully move from the back of his head to his cheek and he finally opened his eyes to scan the jock's face "you still look tired" Chad slightly opened his mouth to say that he was fine but closed it when he realized he didn't have to hide anything from Ryan

He smiled and put his forehead on Ryan's, closing his eyes "I am. Stay here for a little while, so I can recharge and everything will be okay again" he hears the blonde hum and lay his hand on top of Chad's, sitting there in the comfortable silence between them.

Five; apologies for the intrusion

Chad slowly opens his eyes as he reached out to his phone that was ringing, he looks at the time and sees that it was nearing the time to attend the last graduation party. They've already graduated and Troy was hosting one last party for their batch before they all go their own ways

Before Chad could even think of sleeping more, a message from Troy came in then suddenly his phone rang with Ryan's name

he dismissed the text message and quickly answered the call "what's up?"

"I had a feeling that you're going to sleep more so I've taken the liberty to come to your house right now and give you a ride to the Bolton's"

"what?" Chad sat up and made his way to his door but then he hears Ryan knock the same time someone knocked on their door

"Coming!" he hears his ma, Brianna, shout and walk to the front door

"wait, ma!-" too late, Brianna had already opened the door, looking at Ryan who was smiling brightly at her, phone still up to his ear

"oh!" Ryan's smile turned into a grin, he did a curtsy and said in his most posh accent

"Apologies for the intrusion, Madame. I'm Ryan Evans, I'm here to take lord Chad to lord Troy's party" Chad groaned as he ended the call and made his way down, he sees Ryan's amused expression, he was assuming that his hair was a mess and he did not care one bit that Ryan saw him like this if he get to see that amused cheshire smile on the blonde's face

"so this is Ryan Evans?" Brianna asked, smiling at the blonde who was standing by the door

"yes, ma. This is Ryan" Brianna opened her arms and hugged the boy, thoroughly surprising him "I've heard so much about you! Come in, come in" she ushers the blonde inside their home, Ryan regained his composure and followed Brianna inside

"Aimee can't greet you since she's resting right now"

"that is completely fine by me, I'm the guest and unannounced too, you don't have to inconvenience yourself because of me" Brianna chuckles "I like him" she points at Ryan and grins at Chad who was rubbing his face

"alright, you two go and get to know each other. I'll just get ready" he mumbles under his breath, waving his hand and not even looking at the two who was beaming at him as he make his way back upstairs

As he goes back downstairs, fresh out of the shower with a new set of clothes, he sees Ryan and Brianna talking about musicals and theater, quietly leaning on the wall as he observed the two talk in a quick manner. Chad just can never get enough of Ryan

Ryan finally notices him and stopped, smiling at Chad "you ready?" Chad nodded, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek and bid her goodbye

"take care of my son" Brianna says and waves them goodbye as Chad and Ryan get into the blue convertible

"so what did you two talk about?" Ryan chuckled under his breath, as he put up the hood of the car and closed the windows as it looked like it was about to rain "you ask as if you didn't listen in our conversation"

"yeah, but I wanna hear you talk. More so, I want to hear you talk about it because I know you two talked about musicals and that makes you excited" he sees as the tips of Ryan's ears turn red and started to talk about what he and Brianna discussed. He liked making Ryan blush, he liked it more when he sees him excited over something and happy

Ryan finally parked near by the Boltons and looked at Chad who was staring at him with love and adoration, there was a soft smile on his lips as he raise an eyebrow at the thespian

"nothing" Ryan said as he shook his head, answering the unspoken question

"sure?" Chad asked, Ryan hummed in response, there was a long comfortable silence between them, they were just staring at each other as if it was a competition but then Ryan made the mistake of looking at Chad's lips, and all of a sudden he leaned it. When he realized midway that he was going in for a kiss that may or may not destroy his friendship with someone he really got along so well, he decided to kiss Chad on the cheek

"you missed" the jock said, he managed to sound teasingly and breathless at the same time and that did things to Ryan

"did I? Where should I have kissed you?" he smirked at him, both eyes were challenging each other

"here" Chad whispered and leaned in, giving Ryan a kiss on the lips. They both sigh in relief, Ryan's hands snake up to Chad's arm, gently squeezing it, slightly opening his mouth, kissing Chad Danforth was not something he expected to be doing but his whole body felt like it was on fire and Ryan deepened their kiss more, making Chad groan

Before they can even do anything else, someone knocks on the window of the car making the two slightly part away from each other and Ryan click his tongue in annoyance

"later?" Chad asked, not really letting go of Ryan

"later" Ryan smiled and gave him a quick kiss before they made their way out of the car to greet Sharpay (she's the one who knocked on the window) and Zeke

+One; my knight

there was a ringing in the room, making him sigh and quickly turn off the alarm. Finally opening his eyes, he scanned the room that he has been sleeping in for the past six years. His eyes landed on the body that laid beside him, breathing slowed and relaxed, lips slightly agape and both their hands were intertwined. The two golden bands on their ring fingers glinted in the morning sun that was peaking through their curtains

Ryan smiled as he caressed Chad's cheek and sat up so he can become more awake. He remembers the day that Chad gave him a promise ring back in 2012, doing a wedding vow because they knew it wasn't legal to get married yet, and when they both proposed to each other back in 2015 when same sex marriage was finally legalized then got married in 2016, Ryan thought that getting into Juilliard was a happiness that cannot be replaced by any other, but now, with his memories with Chad, waking up beside him, were memories that Ryan will never get tired of.

Chad groans and snuggles closer to Ryan's body warmth, he can't believe that this man has stayed with him for thirteen years and that they're married for six years now.

the door of their room slowly opens and two children popped their heads in, Amara and Aidan Danforth-Evans blinked at Ryan in surprise. Clearly not expecting for their father to be already awake

Ryan smiled at them and motioned for them to come into the bed with him and Chad

Aidan quietly moved but Amara had different plans as she ran and jumped on Chad's sleeping figure, making both Aidan and Ryan snort

Chad made a sound as if he was dying "oh nooo, the horrible horrible monster has me! My knight, save me" Chad rasped, reaching out to Ryan

"you can save yourself"

"hey!" they all laugh at their antics, Chad maneuvers himself and had Amara up on his shoulder as he stood up from the bed

Aidan was now trying to save his twin sister from the horrible dragon as Ryan just watched them from the bed. If someone asked him thirteen years ago where he sees himself in the future, he'll probably say that he'll be alone and happy, dedicating his time and life to work

If someone told him that he'd get to marry his long time crush, Chad Danforth and get to take care of two adorable little monkeys, he'd probably laugh at them and tell them they were crazy

But looking at the scene that was unfolding in front of him, the way Chad slowly went down to the ground with equal amounts of drama, and the twins laughing at him, Ryan would not trade this for anything in the world. It was not something he had foreseen in his teenage years but it was definitely better than anything

#Chyan #Chad Danforth #Ryan Evans #Highschool musical #Fluff #5+1 fic #fanfiction #Highschool musical fanfiction #Chyan fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

ur-favorite-queer-queen · 3 years

Text

Protect

For Maribat March day 18 theme protect

Master List

“DEAREST BIG BROTHER! I’M HOME!” A female shout came from the foyer of the manor.

Dick, Jason, Tim, Babs, Steph, and Cass were hanging out in one of the many rooms the manor held. Alfred had just walked in with a tray of drinks but froze at the sound of the voice.

“THE HECK!” Was shouted by the same voice followed by Damian’s voice shouting,

“WHO ARE YOU!?!?! HOW DID YOU GET IN!?!?!”

Alfred was out of the room in an instant. He was not sprinting but he might as well be with how fast he was walking. The batkids immediately followed after him.

They walked in on a sight none of them will ever forget. Literally, Jason had taken a picture. A strange woman who looked like a female, miniature version of Bruce had Damian’s precious katana and seemed to be taunting him with it.

“Miss Marinette!” Alfred called and got both the woman’s and Damian’s attention.

“Alfred!” The woman replied, running over and giving him a hug, katana still in her hand.

“Wait, Aunt Nettie?” Dick spoke up, walking over to the pair.

“Little Wing! Wow, you got so much bigger since the last time I saw you.” She responded, giving him a hug.

“Wait, wait, your Aunt Nettie?” Jason asked, crossing his arms.

“Aww, Little Blue Jay, you don’t remember me?” She shot back, crossing her arms as well.

“Blue Jay, why is that familiar?” Jason muttered to himself, not quietly enough since everyone heard him.

“Aunt Nettie, you only visited once when he was here.” Dick reminded her.

“Oh, well that will explain that. Also how many more kids did Bruce adopt? I thought it was only the 2 of you, the Drake kid, and his bio kid.” She questioned, motioning to each child she remembered.

“The only other kid he adopted is Cass, Steph and Babs are family friends.” Dick clarified.

“Babs, the first Batgirl correct?” She asked, turning to the girl in question. Everyone froze at that, this girl who was apparently Bruce’s sister knew who they were.

“It’s fine guys, she’s known since the beginning of his time as Batman.” Dick assured.

“Yep, speaking of my big brother, where is he?”

“Master Bruce is currently at a WE meeting, but he will be back in time for dinner.” Alfred answered for her.

“How come father never told us about you?” Damian voiced, glaring at her and looking like he wanted to attack her again. Probably because she still had his katana.

“I rarely visit nowadays and he’s probably still upset after last time.” Marinette smirked, like she had won some sort of battle. Noticing she still had his katana, she handed the blade back to Damian.

“Last time?” Tim hesitantly echoed.

“How about Miss Marinette shares the story in the living room? I can bring snacks.” Alfred offered, Marinette looked like she was about to say something but Alfred beat her to it, “You bond with your nieces and nephews, I will be fine.”

“Come on Marinette! You can tell them about how you helped train Bruce! Oh did you bring any kwamis with you?” Dick rambled, pulling Marinette with him into the room they were hanging out in before her appearance.

Once they were all seated Tim started the conversation, “So I’m not hallucinating, you are actually Bruce’s sister.”

“Yes, Bruce is 3 years older than me. I know that he is Batman and you guys are the bats and the birds.” She calmly responded.

“What did Dick mean by you helped train Bruce? And what is a Kwami?” Babs continued.

“Kwami are basically magical beings, kinda like gods, that are bound to jewels called miraculous. Since I’m the guardian I protect these jewels. I trained Bruce by helping my old mentor from Tibet train him.” Marinette explained.

“What happened last time? And why don’t you visit often?” Damian asked, carefully hidden curiosity in his eyes.

“Back in my first year of highschool, Bruce was very protective of me. Like very protective. No boy he didn’t approve of, which meant I could never talk to a single boy, could get within 10 feet of me without him present. Asking me out, out of the question. Pretty sure this one guy, Adam, wanted to ask me out but Bruce interrupted before he could. I never talked to him again after that. I got pretty tired of it so I signed up for the foreign exchange program and went to school in Paris.”

“Wait,” Steph interrupted, “Bruce was an overprotective brother?”

“One of the worst kinds. I’m sure if our parents were still alive he might’ve been worse than my dad.”

“What importance does this have to the questions?” Damian sneered, annoyed that he wasn’t getting any answers.

“Hold on I’m getting there. So anyways it was in my sophomore year of highschool at Paris that a supervillain attacked. He called himself Hawkmoth, he used the butterfly miraculous to transform people into his puppets by using their emotions against them. I didn’t think much of it since it didn’t concern me, my host family agreed thinking it wouldn’t last long. But when I got to my room there was a little box sitting on my desk and that’s where I found the ladybug miraculous. The most powerful miraculous besides the cat miraculous. I told Bruce, he wasn’t too happy about it, but there wasn’t much he could do. So much happened in that amount of time that I don’t think I could summarize it all before Bruce gets back but just know that in that span of time I met the current guardian. Hawkmoth gained an ally who used the peacock miraculous, Mayura. Also a miraculous that could manipulate emotions.

After I and my partner had defeated Hawkmoth and Mayura, sometime during my senior year, we revealed our identities, dated for a few months before I ended things. Then I went back home and Bruce was getting ready to go on his soul-searching journey to be trained by masters or whatever and I suggested he be trained by my mentor who was in Tibet. I went with him, we trained for a couple of months before he left. I decided to stay in Tibet to train to become the next guardian. Eventually my mentor died and gave me guardianship.

Then I returned to Gotham and Bruce had adopted Little Wing over there. So I stayed here for a while before I decided to go around the world doing guardian things. Bruce didn’t like the idea but there wasn’t much he could do. I ended up catching up with an old friend of mine on one of my travels and we started dating before I came back here. That’s when I met Little Blue Jay for the first and last time.

Before you guys had gone on patrol I tried to ask Bruce to give my boyfriend a chance but he didn’t agree. I’ve always been his little sister in his eyes, I think he couldn’t handle the fact I had grown up. Nasty words were exchanged between us and I haven’t returned since. In the end me and him didn’t work out but I couldn’t bring myself to return, until now at least.”

“Why now?” Damian immediately pressed once she finished her explanation.

“Dusuu was missing Alfred. It has been like a decade or something.” She remarked, pulling out a peacock shaped brooch.

“Didn’t you say that the peacock miraculous was evil?” Cass signed, raising an eyebrow at the brooch.

“No, I said it was used for evil. The miraculous are technically neutral, can be used for good or evil. Depends on who is wielding them.” Marinette bit back, as a flash of light emitted from the brooch. Suddenly a small floating peacock creature stood in front of Marinette.

“Is that a kwami?” Steph asked.

“Yes, this is Dusuu, the peacock kwami of emotions.”

“Hello! It’s so nice to meet you!” Dusuu chirped, “Where’s Alfred?”

“I am right here Dusuu. It is lovely to see you again.” Alfred spoke from the doorway, holding a tray of snacks and drinks.

“Alfred!” Dusuu cheered before flying over and hugging the older man.

“In all honesty Bruce doesn’t sound like the best brother.” Jason pointed out.

“I know it may seem like he’s a shitty brother, and at the time I totally thought he was and still is, but I know where he’s coming from. Bruce was always the more reserved and protective out of the 2 of us even before what happened to our parents. I think our parents' death solidified his need to protect me from anything and anyone. And we all know how horrible Bruce is at showing his emotions so I know his heart was in the right place. Plus, we’ve had years to cool off, I’m sure we can have a mature conversation now.” Marinette explained, a fond smile gracing her lips.

Faintly in the distance they heard Alfred say, “Welcome home, Master Bruce.”

“That’s my cue!” Marinette said before bolting off in the direction of the foyer.

“Alfred something’s off, what are you not telling me?” The second those words left his mouth a weight connected with his back, arms wrapped around his neck and a familiar,

“HEY BIG BRO!” Was registered by his ears.

The weight slipped off his back and as he turned around he was met with the familiar sight of his little sister. “Marinette.”

“Bruce.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“I thought-”

“That I was mad at you.”

“You didn’t visit for 10 years.”

“Life got busy.”

They stood in silence for a minute.

“I missed you.” Marinette whispered, so much different from the girl that was telling them a brief summary of her life. She seemed so much more vulnerable uttering those words than when she had revealed why she hadn’t come back in the first place.

Turns out that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as Bruce wrapped Marinette in a hug as tears slipped from his eyes. They could hear him whispering over and over again, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did all those years ago.”

It was weird for them all to see, including Dick who knew how much Marinette meant to Bruce. Bruce kept his emotions so closed up, master of the stoic face, but here he was breaking down in front of the all. Here he was crying and apologizing.

“I believe we should leave them alone for now.” Alfred spoke up heading for the dining room. They followed. Later Bruce and Marinette would join them, a little red-eyed with their cheeks tear-stained, but small smiles on their faces.

It was then that all the batkids knew that they would be seeing this ‘Aunt Nettie’ much more often.

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

Look at that, I’m super late again! Nothing new, I think day 14 was a one time thing unfortunately.

I’ve seen a ton of fics where Marinette was Bruce’s older sister but what about where she’s his younger sister? Bruce would so be an overprotective older brother.

I hoped you enjoyed this! I’m planning on making a part 2 of this for ‘contest’. So stay tuned!

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #maribat march #protect #little sister marinette #big brother bruce #part 2 will be contest

205 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Friendship, But A Friendship Nonetheless

A Jason Todd and Harley Quinn One-Shot (Non-Reader Insert)

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: So I wrote this for @aurailia or @nitebirdie because she drew that wonderful Jason picture for me which you can find right here! I hope you like this, Jess! Love you! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Jason expected a lot of things.

1. Getting yelled at by Bruce for shooting serial murderers and rapists? Check.

2. Getting yelled at by Damian for calling him short? Check.

3. Getting yelled at by Tim for spray painting a billboard of him with penises? Check.

4. Getting yelled at by Dick for picking on his younger brothers? Check.

So really, it was getting yelled at by his family that he expected the most, but all things considered about his life, his expectations weren’t pretty high. He knew he was going to get hurt on patrol, knew was going to spend the rest of his life dealing with the chronic pain and learning how to manage it.

But the one thing Jason never expected, was to end up being friends with Harley Quinn.

And honest to God, the whole friendship only started because the psychiatrist they both went to accidentally scheduled them at the same time. A screw up. A monumental screw up. But it did lead to a revolutionary session where Jason and Harley spent most of their time badgering each other about their habits while the woman merely watched on and scribbled furiously at her notepad.

When they both left, they were in such a heated argument about which way would be better to deal with the Joker. Jason suggested a bullet in the head and Harley suggested cutting off his arms and legs. An excellent suggestion, he had to admit, but nothing would satisfy him more than killing the pasty bastard, and she knew that too.

Surprisingly, when Harley got to her bus stop, she grabbed the front collar of his shirt to keep him in place while she typed her number in his phone. Of course, Jason wasn’t sure what to be more concerned about: the fact that she’d lifted his phone without him knowing, or that she was putting her number in it and telling him to call her when he needed someone to talk to.

He’d responded that he didn’t need another shrink in his head.

She’d given him a pitied look and said it wasn’t for that, but for a friend.

And Jason wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but three weeks after, he was dialing her number at two A.M. just to hear someone’s voice over the deafening silence in his apartment.

They talked for hours about anything and everything. Cars, weapons, games, favorite childhood memories, everything they could think of. And by the time they’d finally talked until their tongues were numb, the sun had started peeking above the buildings in the distance.

He apologized for keeping her all night.

Harley laughed and asked to hang out on patrol come Friday night then hung up.

Jason hadn’t even told her who he was, but low and behold she was doing cartwheels on the roof of the building he was looking out on that night. And it should’ve annoyed him but hell, he’d grown up with Dick—gymnastics was something he was used to being around.

Halfway through their stakeout, she was perched on the side of the ledge, staring at the side of his head, and it shouldn’t’ve unnerved him like it did, but there was something about her bright blue eyes drilling into his brain that made his skin crawl—and not in the good way.

Will you stop boring holes in me, Quinn? He’d grunted. Pay attention.

Why? She’d retorted. Aren’t you tired of doing this? Don’t you wanna go do something fun?

Stopping drug dealers is good for Gotham.

I’m not talking about good for Gotham, Jason. I’m talking about for you.

Harley hauled him up and tugged him along, him barely resisting because good God she was relentless and headstrong when she put her mind to something. So, he let her. And she dragged him to the Bat-Burger down the block and shoved a roll of money towards the cashier, ordering one of everything on the menu.

And Jason found it really odd when he was balancing two trays in his hands while Harley carried the milkshakes over to the booth in the corner where they huddled in and started eating.

She held up a packet in between her fingers. Want some Jokerized seasoning?

He blinked at her and gently took it, sprinkling the red, white, and green flakes over his fries. And he wasn’t offended when she reached over and took one, popping it in her mouth.

It’s terrible to say it, but God I love this shit. She laughed and Jason’s jaw dropped.

I know! He agreed with a grin. I can’t help it! It’s so good!

Her eyes had narrowed at that. You should smile more, Jason. You look normal when you do.

Normal? He repeated.

You look happy. And that’s what you should strive for. She finalized and took the Robin Nuggets from his tray, grinning when he let out a noise of complaint.

When they could finally move after consuming so much food, she tugged him along to the department store that had closed hours before and while Jason wasn’t one to ever care about breaking and entering, he did have a problem with property that wasn’t a center for criminal activity.

Don’t be a baby. She griped and slipped in though one of the vents and Jason merely stared at the opening before he heard her yell to him. Get a move on! We have stuff to do!

Begrudgingly, he squeezed himself into the way too small vent and shimmied after her.

And Harley Quinn must’ve been planning this for a while because when his feet finally hit the floor, he watched as she started disabling security cameras and alarms in the entire building before spinning around and grinning at him.

Mall’s ours. Let’s get it. And she was off.

Bruce was not going to be happy about this but watching her swing that electrified bat at the glass windows, watching them shatter into millions of shards stirred up something devious in him and Harley was cackling when he broke a window with an armored elbow and yanked out the mannequin, tugging the black leather jacket off before shrugging it on.

He posed with his shoulders squared and strong and she clapped her hands. Looks good! Wanna go hit one of the jewelry stores and find some silver earrings to go with it?

Jason nodded and somehow Harley ended up piggybacking on him, giggling profusely when he started belting out Queen at the top of his lungs; she even joined when they got to the operatics.

And somehow, he let her convince him to go and help her raid the major makeup store in the mall. Harley managed to fill three backpacks full of lipsticks, foundations, eye-shadows, and a whole lotta other shit that Jason had no idea what they were for.

How much money do you think all that is? He inquired and she shrugged.

Probably a grand? Maybe two if I’m being honest. This place is a money-sucking-makeup-hog and I’ll be damned if I’m paying a hundred bucks for one set of lipstick and eyeliner.

She turned to him. Anywhere you wanna go? There’s a map out there if you wanna go look.

Jason nodded and walked out of the store while she was busy filling whatever belt pocket wasn’t empty.

After a few minutes, he heard, Found anywhere?

He pointed silently at one of the stores on the brightened map and she squinted, looking it over.

You wanna go there?

Wouldn’t’ve suggested it if I didn’t.

She shrugged and piggybacked him again. Lead the way, Jason.

He hated that the elevators had been out, and while he hadn’t broken a sweat carrying Harley up three flights of immovable stairs, his knees and his back were killing him when they finally got to the store.

He started wandering inside but stopped when she tossed him a duffel bag.

Fill it up with everything you want.

Jason tried to smile but could only manage a grimace as he stepped in and started going up and down the aisles. He wasn’t too picky with his choosing. Books that looked like they’d help manage his pain he shoved in the duffel bag. An electric pulsing gel pad went in too followed by a vibrating roller he could stretch his muscles on.

He was flipping through a book geared towards mindful chronic pain management when he felt her slide next to him.

Finding everything alright?

Mostly…this one is all about conditioning the mind to work with the pain.

Sounds useful. Meditation and mindfulness have been known to work. It’s really all about placebo-ing your mind into it. She looked at him. Jason, do you ever think about going to a physical therapist?

He scoffed. I already go see a shrink. Why would I go see another doctor?

Because your mind is one thing, and your body is another. Her hand was cool when she placed it on his arm. Jason, if you’re in pain, there are people who can help you.

He really wanted to be snarky but all he could do was glare at her. And what about you? Do you go see a doctor for all the things he did to you too?

Harley gazed at him for a long time before answering him firmly. I will if you do. Or… she started, then trailed off and picked up a few books on physical therapy. You can come to the apartment that Ivy and I live in and we can do it together.

And Jason blinked in shock because he’d never met a person who would agree to do something for themselves if he did something for himself, an agreement for dual help.

You’d really do that for me? For you too?

Harley smiled, big and pearly white, red lipstick a bit smeared in the corner from their meal earlier.

We’re both screwed up cause of what he did, Jason. But here’s where we’re different from everyone else.She linked her arm with his, leaned close and murmured. We’re not going to stew in it while healing is in our futures.

You know we’ll never be one hundred percent fixed, right?

It’s not about fixing, Jason. It’s about healing. Healing doesn’t mean you’re fixed. Memories, pain, it’ll always be there and no amount of management for pain or therapy is going to fix that.

She stared up at him. But it will remind you that you’re still you. Even if there’s a few broken pieces here and there. And no one can take that from you. Not even him.

Jason’s lungs were too tight to form words and his eyes stung horribly but he managed to swallow the lump enough to choke out his reply. You’re alright, Harley.

Smiling, she pressed her cheek into his bicep. Call me Harleen, Jason.

Not Harley?

No, not Harley. I only let the ones I care about call me Harleen.

Does this mean we’re friends then?

Oh, this absolutely means we’re friends now. Best friends, in fact. She tugged at his arm. And I think there’s a Wayne Enterprises outlet somewhere in here and I think we should leave Brucie boy a message.

Jason laughed and wiped his eyes, hurrying after her. Can we spray paint dicks everywhere?

Only if I can spray paint boobs.

You’ve got yourself a deal, Harleen.

Jason expected a lot in his life. To be yelled at by his family for being a pain-in-the-ass son and brother, to be injured on the job, to see a therapist every Tuesday and Thursday, to call his family every night to tell them he loved them.

But the one thing he never expected, was to find one of the greatest friends he’d ever had in a woman he had once been on opposite sides with.

He also didn’t expect Batman to come through the window of the outlet in the middle of their spray painting but that’s another story for another time.

116 notes · View notes

internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Camp Crystal What?

summary: Camp Crystal Lake is a fine and dandy place to spend your summer, said no one ever. You are inclined to agree with that and so are Damian and Jon.

a/n: I am back from retirement with a REEEEEEAAAAALLLLY long crack fic. (This is long as shit by my standards. Leave me alone.) This was co written and edited by my wife @littleredwing89. She was also the biggest enabler for this. I tried to give reader some executive dysfuction but I don’t think it worked out well. We’ll see. This is my first super sons fic please feel free to roast it.

warnings: This really self indulgent and really long. You would think I would have more gore in a slasher film based fic. No. Apparently not.

masterlist

Jon cackles, his chin lifting only slightly from its perch on your shoulder just enough for you to fully hear the petty sound. You tilt your switch, sticking out your tongue in a vain attempt to avoid Damian’s blue shell. You cry out, throwing your arms up in exasperation as the shell hits you just as you were about to cross the finish line. Your outstretched prosthetic arm nearly hitting Jon in the process, not that you felt too bad about that considering…

“Yeah! Got ‘em, Dami!” Jon says, high fiving a smug-looking Damian beside you. You glare at Jon, who was still leaning against you like you weren’t about to bite his head off. “Whose side are you on?”

“Justice!” This draws a snort out of both Tim and Jason who were both sitting in the back.

“No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am!”

“He is, (l/n). You needed to be cut down to size," Damian declares, subtly brandishing his screen showing Rozalina doing a little victory lap in her kart as her little star guy floated around her. You pout at him, puffing your cheeks like an unruly chipmunk as you cross your arms over your chest. This only serves to make Damian all the smugger and Jon all the more gleeful at your loss.

You turn the full force of your ire on Jon who was smiling innocently at you, big blue eyes sparkling reminding you of your husky, Yoohoo. You’re about to say something scathing but stop instead deciding to stew in your loss and sulk as you hand Jon your Switch. You’d think he would be more prepared since he was the one who insisted on coming with you to this camp. Now that you think about it, why were they here? All you remember is telling Jon that you couldn’t go visit him over the summer because your parents were sticking you in a summer camp while they go abroad for something and the next thing you know is that you’re in an SUV with Jon, Damian, Damian’s older brother’s, and their friend(?). Whatever she was to them Damiam never adequately explained like everything else. Though you suspect she was Dick’s wife judging from how little they cared whether the other invaded their space. The lack of a wedding ring made you unsure.

You let out a little huff, melting into your oversized Gotham U hoodie, letting Jon lean on you despite your sour mood and touch aversion. You lean against him in return and watch as Yoshi zips past Rosalina in mild petty satisfaction.

You all file out of the car, drowsy and irritable. You muss Jon’s bed head into an even more tangled mess. Neither of you tells Damian about the streak of drool on his face. Tim shuffles the three of you towards the convenience store while Jason politely explains to the mechanic that he’s wrong, Dick orders lunch at the diner and makes a call back to Gotham presumably to make sure Wayne industries isn’t burning down.

Over your shoulder, you can see Jason’s form working hard not to look threatening. It’s not working or maybe the mechanic was shaking because Faust isn’t even trying to hide the irritation wicking off of her.

“He wha-” Tim pinches the bridge of his nose muttering something about Mr.Wayne. He looks pained. Tim hands you a wad of one-dollar bills as his voice takes Timothy Wayne's public speaker pitch. All of the Wayne’s seem to have three voices. Their Wayne voice, their vigilante voice, and their normal voice. Mr. Wayne has the most distinct voice. Dick’s was honestly really hard to distinguish.

You count the wad of cash in your hand as Jon grabs a basket from the pile. You note, with amusement, that at least five of the bills had variations of ‘don’t buy cereal’ written on them in distinct handwriting.

“Kent, are you planning to put the entire store in the basket?”

“Nah, just the good stuff.”

You marvel at the amount of food Jon managed stockpile in your basket while you were distracted.

“Uh, Jon, we don’t need that much.” Plus, I don’t think we can eat all of that.

“They’re right,” Damian chides, making Jon pout.

After a healthy amount of debate, two almost food fights, a near fistfight, and your attempt at puppy dog eyes, you finally narrow the snacks down and even have enough money left for slushies. You shrug at her, adding more blue than necessary. There weren’t rules against this. Plus, it was tastier this way.

“Dami, what flavor do you want?” Jon shouts from the slushie machine. Beside him, you swirl a mix of red, green, pink, and blue slushies. The lady at the counter was wrinkling her nose at you the way Dami is wrinkling his nose at Jon.

Jon’s big cup of neon blue smoothie dropped to the floor in a loud clatter.

“You’re all doomed! He’s coming. He’s coming! That place is cursed!” The scraggly man screams as he shakes Jon. Damian’s lip tries not to curl in amusement as you both watch the scene unfold. Out of context, this was horrifying. In context, it was hilarious especially considering how badly Jon is acting. The clerk at the counter looks appropriately horrified. You look at Jon, feeling a twinge of worry. He’s not in danger. You know that but you can’t help it.

Your concoction flies into the man’s face in no time flat and Jon scrambles to your side as soon as the man drops him. You step in front of him bracing for further confrontation but the man simply walks off muttering about something you couldn’t hear over the beating of your heart.

“Exactly, why am I in the back?” Jason whines, unfolding and refolding himself, not quite sure where to place what limb in the cramped back row of the SUV. You let out a giggle which earns you a rather harsh glare from an already irate Jason. Damian glares back at him for you, in an oddly protective gesture, and you can’t help but feel strangely smug about it.

They glower at each other for a few minutes. Jason, probably knowing this was a stalemate, turns his attention towards the front of the vehicle, sharp green eyes narrowing at the rearview mirror. “Shouldn’t Faust’s short ass be in the back with Timbo and the Three Tiny Terrors?”

You hear an amused huff from the front along with the loud crinkling and shuffling of the map. Faust glances over her shoulder, the bright mischief in her eyes contrasting with the rich brown of her skin. You wonder if everyone in Damian and Jon’s lives were all this pretty. An almost smile quirks on the edges of her lips as she says “You didn’t call shotgun~”

Jason hisses something colorful behind you. Tim, beside him, is chuckling either from Jason’s misery or, based on the defeated cry coming from Jon, having just nailed Yoshi with lightning. Could be both. It was likely.

Jason, looking positively annoyed, unfolds himself and violently settles his feet on Tim’s lap. Tim yelps then says something close to a swear word. Jason grins lazily looking more like a cat as he leans back. This time Jon cries out in joy, the victory music blaring from your switch. Again, Tim hisses something edging towards a curse word. Jon wriggles out of his seat and fist bumps Jason who returns the gesture enthusiastically. In the reflection on the windshield, you can clearly see the amusement in Dick’s smile. Even to your right, Damian seems amused if not outright gleeful at seeing Tim’s misery. You couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t a master of reading Waynes yet. You would turn to Jon but he wasn't fluent either. Faust told you that it would take a while which just meant that you would never master it. Reading people was hard enough as it was. There was always something difficult about interpreting social signals. It was so easy to get them wrong and when you add in the complication of being a vigilante you just found yourself frustrated. You slump into the seat feeling the frustration writhing under your skin. Jon noticing your frustration eases up and gives you a little more space.

"So, what's with the map?" Tim asks, throwing Jason's feet back at him and handing you his switch. Faust wrinkles her nose at the offending piece of paper. "Well, Dicktopus here insisted on the authentic road trip atmosphere complete with bad cell signal, a map, and oh right, getting lost." Dick gives her a look which Faust just shrugs it off.

"Like what? The Goofy movie?" Tim asks incredulously, his brows wrinkling in the rearview mirror as he gives Dick a withering look.

Faust snorts in confirmation. Jon’s face crumples in confusion. You make a small hiccupping noise mimicking the noise that passes for Goofy's laugh and you see as the bleary memory clicks into place. "You mean the old movie we watched last night?"

"It's old but gold," Dick defends fervently, earning him an indulgent smile from Faust and a withering look from Damian. Damian shrinks into his seat unwilling to expend too much effort defending his mentor's taste in movies despite him enjoying the movie. You did too but you wanted to see how this would play out. Behind you, Jason shifts, a shark-like grin plastered across his face. " Just because that's the movie you modeled your life after, Big Bird, doesn't mean it's good."

Dick makes this affronted noise that makes him sound a little like he's squawking. "It's a good movie and you know it!" Dick says earnestly, scowling at a still cocky Jason through the reflection in the windshield. You see Damian, Jason, Faust, and Tim's eyes meet in the rearview mirror, all shining conspiratorially. You and Jon give each other a look, each looking like you're bracing for disaster.

"Dunno, Dick, I think the second one was soooo much better," Tim pipes up finally. It sounds like the spark lighting a trail of gunpowder towards a powder keg.

"I have to agree with Drake," Damian says honestly sounding pained.

Faust rewards him with a conspiratorial smile which makes Damian ease a little. The gesture from what you understood roughly translated to 'it was for the greater good.' "So much for your taste in movies, Dickens," Faust teases, poking a finger at Dick’s shoulder.

"You're one to talk!" Dick says, rolling his eyes childishly.

Faust twists her body to look at all 5 of you, winking at you and Jon as if she was about to perform a magic trick, which wasn't off the table since she could actually pull weapons from her tattooed skin. "You guys loved Lake Placid, right?"

Playing along, you each gave varying sounds of agreement til Dick finally threw his hands up in exasperation. "HEATHENS!" Faust looks pleased as punch at this reaction. You giggle as Dick groans into the steering wheel as you slow to a stop in front of a cross-section.

"Traitors all of you," Dick says, resting his arm on the back of his seat and giving all of you a halfhearted scowl. He kind of looked like Yoohoo when you refused to give him treats.

You all bask in Dick’s misery. You even catch Jon giggling at Dick’s frown despite himself. The rest were completely unrepentant. They don't even bother to hide the self-satisfied smiles on their faces, least of all Damian who vehemently protested to being subjected to such drivel. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that he had watched the movie with the same rapt attention as you and Jon. You all enjoyed the movie just as much as Dick did but it was much funnier to gang up on him.

Dick continues to argue his point as all of you offer, frankly, bogus arguments that you say with as much conviction as Dick levels against you. The banter continues in a rather jaunty rhythm until a fallen tree forces the car into a rather abrupt stop.

"Shit!" Jason hisses at full volume as his knees hit the back of Damian’s seat which draws out a soft 'oof' from Damian which quickly reshapes into a snarl. Tim and Damian give Jason a look of mock sympathy. Jason raises his middle finger in a vaguely familiar gesture.

"Jason!" Dick says, cutting off your train of thought much to your frustration. You contemplate hissing some colorful words yourself.

Jason grunts, probably rubbing his shins. "They've heard, said, and done worse." You hear Jon protest beside you but it's quickly cut off by a 'not you' from somewhere.

Then it hits you. "Oh yeah! Dami did that hand thingy when he drop-kicked someone during lunch," you admit conversationally.

"Dami!"

Damian gives you an absolutely betrayed look. You shrug at him not entirely sure what was wrong. You shrink a little and Damian pulls back a little but still glares.

"Didn't you hear him say the F-word?" Jon adds. You blink at him, running through your memory like a film reel and turning up nothing. "Some of us don't have super hearing," you supply with no real anger behind it.

"Ope, sorry, (y/n)." You shrug at him congenially as he smiles sheepishly at you. No harm no foul.

"Kent!"

"Oh- Uh, sorry, Dami."

Damian doesn't look appeased at all by this.

“Ok, so we’re just gonna skip over the fact that he drop-kicked someone?” Tim asks, raising a brow and you find yourself thinking, “Well, yeah. He’s Robin. That’s kinda his thing.”

Jason snorts beside him, seemingly less irritable now that Dick’s attention was directed elsewhere. “He didn’t get caught soooo..”

“Jason!”

“Jason, we’re not supposed to be obvious about being terrible influences.” Faust jokes, now redirecting Dick’s ire to her. You can’t tell if that was intentional or not but either way she seems to be enjoying how Dick’s expression makes him look like a carp gasping for air.

“Why did you tell them?” Damian hisses, albeit softer than he normally does. You frown at him confused. You thought it was spectacular and you really don’t know what was wrong. You really wish they’d explain it. Maybe you should speak up but would that be rude? You stare at Damian trying your hardest to convey your confusion but you’re having trouble shaping your face into the correct one. You try to keep in mind the face Jon makes when Damian tried to explain quantum physics to both of you.

Turning away from her argument with Dick, Faust looks at you pityingly before speaking and putting her hand up to Dick’s face lightly pushing him back. “Relax, Baby Vamp, I would’ve gotten it out of them sooner or later,” Faust says, looking at you with the same stern look Mr. Pennyworth gives you when you try to steal cookies. It kind of reminds you of the Penance Stare from Ghost Riders but with less flaming skulls and more implied disappointment.

“Tim was the one who ate the last few pieces of the brownies Mr. Pennyworth made for Jason.” The words flow out of you like water from a cataract. Faust waves her hand theatrically as if she had just demonstrated a magic trick. Again, you’re pretty sure this was one. You wince fully expecting Tim to have the same caustic reaction as Damian. But when you turn to look at him to apologize, Tim already had his hands up in front of him defensively. On the other side, not far enough away for Tim’s liking, Jason looks livid, steam coming out of his ears.

“Those were mine, asshole!”

“You eat them every time you’re at the Manor!”

“When I’m at the Manor! Which is what? Once every three months?”

“Two,” Tim deadpans, holding up two fingers.

That was the wrong thing to say, you realize. From the way they’re staring at each other, you’re a little afraid they’d come to blows as Jason surges forward.

“Tim, Jay, I will turn this car around if you two don’t stop.”

“Please, continue.” Dick shoots Damian a ‘you are not helping’ glare but Damian simply answers with a warning one. They all look ready for a brawl and all you want to do is curl up into your oversized hoodie. You play with the frayed edges of your hoodie hoping you’re radiating your discomfort.

And like an angel of mercy, Faust clears her throat. “(Y/n), Jon, help me clear the road.” The statement leaves no room for argument and you and Jon breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Jon lifts the tree with ease. It was an oddly healthy tree, freshly cut. Something about it made your stomach turn. “Jon could have done it alone. Why bring me?” You ask, distracting yourself from the strange feeling by fiddling with the joints of your metal hand which only made you more conscious of how pointless it was to bring you along. Faust glances towards the car. The boys are still bickering. She then glances down at you with a wry smile. “Waynes bickering is really funny from a distance.” Your eyes glance at the light scar on her running down her clavicle, disappearing into the line of her shirt. You doubt it’s from any of them. You really doubt it. The Wayne kids were chaotic, especially the girls, but they’re never- Well, they can be hurtful but not that way. Not that you’ve seen anyway. You shake your head and glance at the car and watch them argue. Their gestures are animated and loud enough that you could almost hear the bickering going on. This liveliness settles your stomach.

You spend a few minutes out there waiting for them to settle down. It was long enough for you and Jon to start debating the existence of Gummy Bear shaped aliens and for Faust to weigh in with her humble opinion. Dick honks at the three of you to tell you it was, relatively, safe to come back. Tim, Damian, and Jason were all sulking in their respective corners while Dick gives you and Jon an apologetic look. Jon simply shrugs as if to say it was normal for brothers to argue but you found it hard to picture Conner ever being that mean to Jon or vice versa for that matter. Faust rolls her eyes at the sulking birds, a fond smile quirking on her lips. Dick gives her a look that was usually followed by the words ‘I miss not being the adult’ which she graciously answers with a smile that plainly says ‘me too.’

In the corner of your eye, you see something- a shadow- move in the woods as you drive off, Dick’s story about space aliens falling away into the background. You turn to Jon who looks at you confused and a little concerned. It was clear he didn’t see it, whatever it was. You turn to Damian but see he’s still stewing. You blin and the shadow is gone. A sticky feeling of dread settles in your stomach.

There's pressure in the car.

The camp is, well, loud.

Louder than you were expecting and full of rowdier children than promised. You wince slightly, ears ringing. You and Damian sigh already knowing that you were both going to be absolutely exhausted by the end of this. You turn to Jon, shoulder slumping, only to find him beaming as he watched the other kids run around. There were alot of days you envied Jon and this was one of them. Damian looks at Jon with utter disbelief. You shrug at him as he wrinkles his nose at both Jon and the hooligans running around. Your lip quirks into a scraggly smile fully understanding.

“This is going to be repulsive,” Damian hisses.

“Lighten up, Dami.”

“Nah, he’s gotta practice being dark and brooding, so when he gets to be the big bad bat he can do the whole brooding thing all-natural,” you joke, using your finger to mimic the ears of Batman’s cowl.

“Please, say that louder. I don’t think the supervillains heard you,” says Damian sarcastically, nose upturned.

Jon grins at you in a challenge. You raise a brow, crossing your arms. Your brain cell takes a vacation.

“HE’S GOTTA-” Damian clamps a hand on your mouth. You glare at him. His eye flicks to Jon who is sucking in a breath. Damian is throwing his other hand over Jon’s mouth when one of the counselors waves you over. All three of you blanch at the color of the shirt.

You all stand in an odd misshapen circle. Damian looks incredulously at the tacky camp T-shirt he’s been forced into while Jon does not contain his laughter. You joke about how a bowtie would definitely class it up which earns you a rude gesture that just makes you laugh harder.

“Alright kiddos, it’s time to introduce ourselves!”

Damian froze under the weight of their collective gazes, the hint of a smile on his face fading. Sometimes being around you and Jon made him forget. Well, not really forget. It was just easier not to think about it when you two were around. Damian feels himself shifting, realigning himself to 5’ 2” of cold arrogance.

It should have scared you just how easily the warm fondness on his face smoothed out giving way to this cold calculating face. It did on some level; on some level, the efficiency of Damian’s face muscles scared you. Sometimes you had to wonder if it was just him or if his brothers had the same knee-jerk reaction.

You roll your eyes as if nothing worrying had happened and bump your shoulder against his. A smile twitches on his lip and the ramrod shape of his spine curves a bit. Jon snickers, not trying too hard to hide it, which earns him the full force of Damian’s ire but you and Jon know all too well that Damian’s just being prickly. You step forward, shoulders broadening, nudging a glaring Damian behind you redirecting everyone’s stares towards you. It’s uncomfortable but you don’t mind. Damian huff behind you but doesn’t protest any more than that. You smile amicably or as amicably as you can. You need to remember the correct shape.

Introductions go off without a hitch.

Jon, like always, has no trouble stirring the crowd.

You make an impression when your introduction careens into a tangent about angelfish.

Behind you, Damian scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Contrary to popular belief, Damian did have a tendency to be nervous, especially around new people. This is compounded by the fact that Damian wasn’t really versed in dealing with people his own age which just put him on edge.

Thankfully, all three of you get sorted into the same cabin. The cabin is chaotic in a familiar, childish sort of way with pillows flying everywhere and kids jumping up and down their bed. Jon immediately jumps into the fray. Damian follows soon after Jon hits him with a pillow square in the face.

“Woman up and face me, Kent!”

You look up to the sky and smile in amusement. This is going to be an interesting summer.

The room is solid.

Your eyes incandescent in the darkness. The air crackles in anticipation of the storm.

A silver streak of lightning tears down through the heavens and crashes down into the lake.

A strange dislocation in the universe has emerged.

Your eyes shut.

Your ears pop.

You do not hear as something mangled rises from the water.

You wanted to say this was a horrible idea. Though, you’re not sure how to phrase that without implying they’re idiots. You’ve been hanging out with Damian too much. He’s starting to rub off on you and you’re mildly concerned.

You’d told them that the whole fight was your fault. Ok, not entirely. You simply told the kid off when he was making fun of Jon and you were not gonna stand for that. The kid shoved you, Damian 'accidentally' broke his nose, and the next thing you know is that you’ve been shoved into a random group of campers.It’s been a week but you still weren’t familiar with a lot of the people in the camp. The man with kind eyes said this would be good for you. You really would have preferred staying at the campgrounds, cleaning and doing whatever with the people in your cabin.

“Alright, kiddos, you guys can go swim while me and Jos go check something out in the woods.”

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t!”

You sniff and bite your tongue, playing with the hem of your shirt.

"You sure they're gonna be ok?"

"What you think they're gonna disappear like Cat?"

Your ears perk up at this.

"Well, I mean-"

"She probably just ran off with one of the town boys."

This was probably the best time to bring up child endangerment protocols or the fact that you’re not even dressed for swimming. By the time you string the correct combination of words, they’re gone. You sigh and huddle yourself into a tree. It’s not like you’re dressed to swim anyway even if you wanted to.

You hug your knees as you flatten yourself against the tree, making sure your prosthetic limb is tucked beneath your normal one. You watch the others as they horse around looking like they’re really enjoying themselves. They probably didn’t realize you were there or did they even notice you join the group. Doesn’t matter really. Right now you would prefer to sit under the tree than risking your arm. Mr. Fox had explained that since it was still a prototype it was delicate.

“HEY!”

You jump. Your skin feeling very confined. You turn to the voice. Jesse, you think.

“Sorry. Could you- can you say that again?”

She rolls her eyes at you and you suddenly doubt the politeness of your speech but no you were pretty sure that was the correct way to say it.

“I said ‘can your arm go in the water?’.”

Oh.

“No?” You were half sure it couldn’t. You haven’t really tested it since it was easier to bathe without it. She gives you a skeptical look and yanks your arm towards her. You yelp. “Hey! What are you-” Your throat tightens when you find yourself at the dock. It’s shaky. The slightest shifting made it move.

You turn your heel mumbling an apology but your arm is yanked back. The grip is stronger now. You look back and see two people holding on to it. “Let go!” you say, trying to wrench yourself free. “It’s- it’s not a toy,” you add but they don’t budge.

“You’re being a baby!”

“C’mon (y/n)!”

“Let’s see how well robots can swim!”

You scream as they throw you into the water.

You thrash your limbs around, grasping for something, anything but all you can feel is the viscous emptiness deforming and reforming with every splash.

You cry out.

The water muffles your screams along with the distant sound of laughter and heckling.

Your mouth is filling with water.

Your lungs. Your lungs are burning.

Your chest aches.

You can’t breathe.

Help!

Please!

Someone!

It hurts.

Your vision is pulsing. The edges are going dark.

Your limbs are going numb and falling to pieces.

The world is sinking.

It’s so dark.

It’s too cold.

Why are you alone?

Where are they?

You don’t want to die like this.

You feel a large hand fish you out by the scruff of your shirt. It tosses you onto the shore; the force as you hit the ground knocks the air (water?) out of your lungs. You heave, gasping like a fish. A large silhouette hangs over you, cold dread licks up your spine but you note a lack of panic. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen.

Your vision comes back in pieces and by the time the world puzzles back together, you’re alone. You’re alone and shivering like a wet rat. You look around, brushing wet hair out of your eyes and you realize you’re not entirely sure of the way back. You curl in on yourself. It does nothing to warm you but you were desperate to feel whole and safe and ok.

You aren’t entirely sure how long it is before Jon and Damian find you or just how they managed it but you’re thankful when someone drapes a heavy towel over your head, muffling the scattered sounds around you. Shakily, you pull the towel over your face. It hides the tears well enough. Your loose hanging limbs tighten around you. You want to shrink, small enough to smooth over the trembling in your body. You know they’ve saved people from drowning before. They’ve saved people from far worse. Heck, they’ve been through far worse. You desperately don’t want them to think of you as weak, as less but here you were trembling. You’re unable to steady your own breathing. Frustration rises in the back of your throat. It is a welcome change from the nonstop medley of panic that’s been shoved on you.

A hand settles itself on your head, the movement stiff, light, and controlled. The pressure increases a touch when you don’t protest. Damian radiates awkwardness as he attempts to ruffle your still-damp hair. You smile up at him through damp hair. Damian simply grunts as he continues to avoid eye contact by staring out at the empty lake.

Jon plops down next to you kicking his feet out in front of him. He gives your space but he’s just close enough for you to lean against if you wanted to. On his shoulder was your ratty oversized hoodie. You tug at his sleeve to ask for it. He hands it to you. You slip it on, not caring that you were still soggy. The familiar, loose weight of fabric against your skin made you feel whole and safe and marginally ok.

Jon presses a hand onto your back mimicking the experimental way Damian had patted your damp hair. He listens to the steadying rhythm of your heart, his own easing back into a calmer rhythm. Damian raises a brow at him and he gives him a thumbs up. Damian’s shoulders loosen and Jon can’t help the snort that comes out of him. You look at him startled and Damian gives him the ol’ Damian glare which makes him laugh out loud. Your eyes flicker to Damian and then roll your eyes, crow's feet wrinkling in the corners of your eyes. You twist your mouth into a weird squiggly line in an attempt to smother a laugh in fear of incurring Damian’s wrath. Jon highly doubts you’d be able to. Damian was, in fact, a big old softie. Sure, he acts grumpy all the time but spending so much time with both Dick and Faust has made him pretty mushy by bat standards but Jon wouldn’t dare say that out loud, at least, not when Damian looked this close to throwing him into the water.

You spend a long time soaking up the quiet before heading back. Jon slings an arm around you but pulls it back when he hears your heart stutter. You pinch and tug at his sleeve and mumble an apology. You see Damian shoot Jon his version of the Pennyworth look.

“Sorry, (y/n).”

“‘S ok,” you rasp quietly.

You three walk along the shore towards the cap. You feel too tired to even blanch at the odd feeling of wet socks as you pad along the path. You walk in silence which is interrupted by a bird call here and there with either you or Jon occasionally asking Damian to translate. He does but for some reason some odd reason, they keep calling you idiot or imbeciles. You watch Damian’s eyes flick here and there. You know he feels it too. The odd feeling of being watched. The rustle of leaves echoes eerily in the stillness.

The counselors, mercifully, let you skip out on the rest of the afternoon’s activities. You curl up in your cabin, warm and very comfortable in the pool of fabric created by one of Mr. Kent’s hoodies which Jon ‘accidentally’ packed. You rolled your eyes at him but accepted it gratefully. You make a mental note to thank him with the mill house cookies you ‘accidentally’ bought at one of the rest stops.

You flip through the yellowing pages of the book in your hand. You aren’t quite sure how to describe how inappropriate it is to give a drowning victim a book on the complete works of H.P. Lovecraft. Then again, it was better than reading Moby Dick. Plus, you’re enjoying yourself trying to find a man who is about as stealthy as a Green Lantern. You’ll have to ask Damian or Jon. Damian’s more likely to have met a Green Lantern but he’s also more likely to give you a boring and entirely inaccurate answer.

You go back to the fish people. Do Atlanteans walk like that? Maybe. It feels odd somehow moving around without your prosthetic limb. Lighter but infinitely more unstable.

“Do you think they’ll find Cat?”

Your ears perk up. Your eyes flick to the window and you see two counselors leaning against another cabin. You shuffle awkwardly somehow moving the mass of cloth quietly. You squish against the wall making sure they can’t see you.

“Cat just ran off. You know how she is.”

“That’s what Raz said.”

“Yeah, where is he?”

“Who knows he’s probably just fucking around in the woods. Doing Bear Grylls shit or something.”

“Hope he comes back soon.”

“Do you really wanna deal with that horny jackass?”

“No but he’s the only decent cook. Do you really wanna taste what awful concoction Ratty has for us?”

Your stomach curdles remembering Ratty’s terrible improvisation of Doro Wat. Ratty said it was their grandmother’s recipe but you doubted it. Unlike the one Jason made for you one time, it was bland. It wasn’t even close to spicy. The vegetables were overcooked while the chicken was somehow undercooked. In short, you had nearly died twice since you got here.

“Nope. I’d rather starve. Isn’t their cooking like a human rights violation?”

Starvation would be a kinder death.

“Yeah. Anyway, I tried asking Jos. Apparently, Raz and a bunch of the other Lil shits have been fucking around in town.”

“Is that where Jackie disappeared to?”

“Probably.”

Ok, so the counselors have been dropping like flies and you have yet to notice. You should probably tell Damian and Jon. Something about this seems wrong.

“Are you ever gonna stop glaring at them?” you ask, plopping on to the log letting your empty sleeve hang loosely off to your side.

“Depends, have they apologized?”

“Ye-”

“Sincerely?”

“Well-”

“Then no.”

“Ok, but does Jon have to pout at them?”

“I’m not pouting!”

“Wait… That’s your glare?”

“Yeah?” Jons says furrowing his brow.

“Batcow’s given me better glares!”

“Again, (l/n) is right.”

“Thank you!”

“Dami, who’s side are you on?”

Damian’s lips curl into a cat-like smile, the kind you saw on Selina. “Justice.”

Jon throws his hands up defeated. You give Damian a low five as he settles beside you. Jon takes the seat on your other side still pouting.

"Do you kids know the rules to surviving a horror movie?"

The chattering dies down and you all fall silent, turning your full attention to the counselor. Your counselor lets out an absolutely delighted squeal, clapping their hands. You don’t miss the absolute dread on your other counselor’s face.

“Ok so, rule 1: Be a virgin-”

“Ratty!” Dawes, the counselor with dread on her face, squeaks elbowing Ratty, Ratchet. “Couldn’t you have worded it differently or you know, not at all?!” Ratty, the horror enthusiast counselor, rubs their arm and sticks their tongue out at Dawes who looks like she’s going to age ten years during this conversation.

If you thought Dawes was pale before, she nearly turns transparent with the next few words that leave your mouth. “What’s a virgin?” you blurt out. You desperately want to curl in on yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t know. It was just your mouth runs faster than your mind. The kids around you snicker and one of the boys behind you claps you on the shoulder, laughing loudly. You lean on Damian, hiding behind him slightly. Damian shifts so he’s shielding you more.

Dawes sputters out her answer. It’s hard to understand. You watch the others searching for clues for an appropriate reaction.

“It’s a person who’s never had intercourse,” Damian deadpans and you nod quietly.

Dawes’ face lights up like a Christmas tree while Ratty’s twists into pure joy. Damian rolls his eyes as the other kids laugh even louder. It takes a moment but your cheeks heat up realizing the gap in your reaction must have given them the wrong idea. You pinch the bridge of your nose and you sigh. You see Jon snort at you and you stick your tongue out at him.

“See, Dawes, they know.”

“What about keeping them innocent?!”

“I’m not getting paid to do that,” Dawes drags her hand over her face as Ratty shrugs,” ’sides, this is life skills.” Dawes slaps Ratty on the shoulder again making them whine at the impact. “Ok. Ok. Fine. Fine. Jeez, you hit like a son of a- Oh wait, have any of you heard about Camp Blood?”

This gets you all to quiet down.

“Camp Blood? Isn’t that like a video game?”

“It’s like a local ghost story isn’t it?”

“Wasn’t that the one with the fish-”

“It’s not the fish people.”

“Let me tell the story!”

“Ratty, you never tell the story well. You keep making weird voices and you can’t even keep a straight face.”

“SLANDER,” Ratty shouts, throwing up their hands.

“Pffft, you also gonna tell us you can cook a 5-star meal?”

“Ok. Ok. Fine. I’ll just tell it to them straight.”

“What? As straight as Dawes?”

“Pffft, we’d go in circles.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true!”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“What’s the thing about Camp Blood?” Jon pipes, putting a hand over Damian’s mouth probably sensing the sharp remark he’s about to say. Damian licks his hand and Jon pulls away waving his hand like he’s been burned. You snort then blanch when Jon rubs the spit on to your hoodie.

“Gather round children-”

“Ratty, they’re in a circle get on with it.”

“I AM TRYING TO SET THE MOOD.”

“Jesus, ok. So, a looong time ago there was this kid named Jason Voorhes. When two counselors were fu- OW! Jeez, Dawes- Ow! Ok, fine. While two counselors were distracted, he drowned-”

“Sounds familiar,” snipes Damian. An apologetic look crosses Dawes’ face, a confused one on Ratty’s, and sheepish one on Jos’. You squeeze his and Jon’s shoulders.

Ratty shakes their head. “Anyway, they never find the body so his mom comes back and hacks the new counselors into pieces as some soft of demented justice for her kid.”

“That’s a bit of an overreaction,” Jos laughs awkwardly. The glares on them do not waver. You elbow Damian and kick Jon’s foot. Damian ignores you while Jon gives you a look of mock hurt. You roll your eyes at him and attempt to elbow Damian a second time. Again, nothing.

“The thing is one of the counselors actually manages to decapitate Mrs. Voorhees. She disappeared two months after though. Legend has it that Jason still roams the grounds of Camp Blood seeking revenge for his mother.”

The air is humming, thick with the roll of thunder and the premonition of a storm.

There is a dislocation in the universe.

Your ears pop.

You look at Jon who looks vaguely like his mother when she’s sniffed out a story. You look at Damian who is already sussing out every detail of the story. Your eyes meet and you all nod.

“It has to be someone using the urban legend as some sort of cover. Or! Or maybe they’re using the urban legend to mythologize their killings,” you say, through a mouth full of contraband chocolate chip cookies.

Damian snatches the package from you taking a piece.“(l/n), that’s ridiculous-”

“Yeah, we don’t even know if they’re dead yet,” Jon protests, snatching the bag from a scowling Damian.

“What are the odds they’re still alive?”

You all fall silent. “We assume they’re still alive until we see proof of the contrary,” Damian says firmly. You and Jon nod. The movement feels heavy.

“But what if the Jason ghost is a real thing?”

“Possible.”

“(l/n), don’t indulge him.”

“Jon is literally part alien,” you protest

“Jason has come back from the dead and Faust literally has moving tattoos,” Jon adds.

“YOUR DAD IS LITERALLY BEST FRIENDS WITH A 5000-YEAR-OLD AMAZONIAN AND A DUDE WHO CAN LIFT BUILDINGS.”

“Ok, fine but we should eliminate the more mundane explanations first,” Damian concedes accepting another cookie.

“I think we have. It’s too rapid and obvious to be a human trafficking operation.”

“We should find the counselors first.”

“Yeah, that’s a start.”

“Where should we start?”

“Abandoned cabins would be a good start,” you suggest trying not to perk up.

Damian glares at you and you wither. “(l/n), you’re not coming with us.”

“You say this like (y/n)’s gonna listen,” Jon laughs.

“ET has a point,” you say, grinning and opening another packet. You offer Jon the first cookie as thanks.

“Can’t I at least be a cool alien?”

“Nope.”

“Will you two focus?”

“Yeah. No.”

Damian pinches his nose. You completely understand why people think Damian makes a convincing fifty year old. “(l/n)...”

“Ok, fiiiine. I’ll stay out of it.”

“Don’t even think about sneaking out.”

You frown and nod.

You tiptoe through the brush, one metallic arm wrapped around you, the other hanging limply to your side flashlight clasped tight in your metallic hand. Camp Blood isn’t too far. You silently survey a few cabins finding nothing particularly interesting aside from cobwebs and potentially dead animals. The air is musty and decayed. You sniff and rub your nose as you walk through the camp guided only by strips of moonlight. If you were to run into a murderer now, you would only have your flashlight to defend you. You didn’t like those odds.

You’re a deer in headlights.

Dry mouth.

Skin going cold.

A scream burbling in the back of your throat.

The lumbering figure is coming closer.

You know he can see you.

Your feet are fused to the ground.

The light of the machete winking at you from a distance.

The world turns into a blur when your back hits the rotting wood of the abandoned cabin.

“What did I say about sneaking out?” Damian hisses, arm pressed on your neck. You blink. A flood of relief crowds your chest.

You sling your arms around him and he stiffens. You explain away the surprised little yelp as something animal and not something from your friend. “I didn’t sneak out. I went to the bathroom then I wandered off,” you mumble.

“How exactly is that different?”

“Less tiptoeing.”

"Funny."

"It is."

"Have you seen Kent?"

"Sadly no."

"Shit- Don't tell Grayson."

"The fact that you swore or the fact that you somehow lost Superman's kid"

He glares at you and you can't help but shrug.

"Both."

"Fair," you say, pausing for half a breath.”Did you find the hostages?”

Damian’s face falls then hardens then you know better than to ask him.

“We should find Jon,” Damian says finally. You flick your eyes and shake your head pushing down the urge to make fun of his slip. You’ll tell Jon later.

You two walk together, shoes in hand. It was easier. Maybe after this, you’ll ask Tim to teach you how to sneak around.

The sound of crashing wood fills the still night air. You and Damian freeze.

“JON.” Damian is the first to launch himself towards a cabin. You shamble behind him, plodding through the muddy earth as fat droplets of rain splashing down. You would have blanched at the squishing but all you could think about was Jon.

“Jon!”

“Dami! (y/n)!”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m in a hole. What do you think?”

You look him over as best you can in the dark. Damian seems to be having a better time. “You’re not in pain, so yeah.”

Jon huffs, shifting around in the pile of clothes. His nose wrinkles.“This jumper smells like something died in it," he says holding up a particularly old looking sweater. It's blotchy with various stains around the neck.

“Check for a pulse!” you shout, earning a sharp jab to the rib from Damian. You glare and rub your chest.

“Guys, I don’t wanna alarm you but I’m pretty sure there’s a decapitated head down here”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Damian asks incredulously. Your skin drains of all color and warmth.

“Do you want the good news or bad news?”

“That’s not-”

“Where in that pile of bloody clothes did you get good news?”

“Good news is he’s not here,” Jon says, eyes sweeping around.”Bad news, he’s actually real.”

“Stop messing around and get out of there, Kent!”

“Jon, come on! Fly or something!”

“My powers are going-” Jon jumps. But only manage to just fall back down. “I can’t fly.”

Damian groans. He pinches his nose and goes off to look for something to pull Jon up with.

“Why do you think your powers aren’t working?”

Jon shrugs. “Magic?” This place is cursed.

“We are dealing with a ghost,” you shrug back. You all freeze. The sound of distant footsteps making your heart race.

“Dami!” you hiss, over your shoulder.

“I can’t find anything!”

“Wait,” you say, unfastening your arm and reaching down to Jon. Damian grabs hold of it with both hands and you two start pulling Jon up.

The footsteps are getting louder, closer.

"Hurry!" you hiss quietly.

Your hearts are racing.

You pull, Jon getting closer.

He’s almost in arm’s reach.

The man is getting closer.

You can hear his breathing.

You pull Jon up, feet kicking. You wrestle him into a hug with one arm, making a little happy squeal into his hair low enough that only they can hear. Damian nudges you with your arm.

“Well that was scary,” Jon whispers into your shoulder. Damian smacks him upside the head. You laugh but cut yourself off when you see Damian stiffen. “RUN!”

You all scramble up and begin to dash away. You look back over your shoulder, machete winking at you, hockey mask visible in the dim light.

You stumble, feet getting tangled in roots. You yelp, bracing for impact and possibly dying. You feel arms scoop you up. You squeak. “No one gets left behind, soldier,” Jon says grinning.

“How are you still a goof when we’re about to die?” you laugh incredulously.

“He clearly gets it from his father.”

“ Pfffft, probably or maybe it's an alien thing.”

“Are you really gonna make fun of me, right now?” Jon protests, shouting over the rain.

“You two! This way!” Damian points to a small hole in the hillside.

“I’m too tall for that!” Damian glares.

You snort. “Just duck.” Jon scowls at you then sighed.

You all slide into a small crevice and hunched together.

“What’s the plan?”

“Jon, are your powers working?”

“Kind of?”

“Ok, that’s one thing we have going for us,” Damian hands you a phone. "You call while we distract him."

"Why do you have to distract him?"

"Ask him yourself, (l/n)."

Your eyes sweep up to the tall figure. Your mouth goes completely dry.

"Fuck."

Jason brings his machete down in a swift arc light. You grab Damian by the scruff of his shirt. The machete embeds itself into the wall, getting caught in the process. Your moment of relief doesn’t last long when Jason lunges for you. You scream as he catches your arm. With a soft click it detaches and you scramble away and out the hole into the pouring rain. He’s hot on your heels. You hear a loud thud. You look over your shoulder. Jon’s resting against the wall, head slumped. You see him throw Damian to the ground. You call 9-11 as you hurl your shoe at him. The dial tone is ringing. When you look up again, Jason is heading towards you. You stumble barefoot trying to get away. Predictably, you fall, foot catching on another tangle of roots.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there?”

“Please help,” you whisper as Jason raises your arm to the sky. Your life flashes through like a film reel. Your breath is caught. Lightning flashes.

You watch the lightning cut through the heavens. The silver streak of light connecting might your arm and by extension Jason. The arm explodes. Shrapnel flies everywhere. Jason bursts into flames. The smell of burning flesh cutting through the air. You watch in open-mouthed horror as another bolt of lightning hits. He falls body fried to a crisp. You wretch the smell still strong.

"Kid! Kid! Are you ok?"

"No…" you gasp, bile lining the back of your throat, "please,hurry. We're at Camp Blood."

You’re cold and wet and forced to huddle into one blanket since the officer who responded only had one on hand. Damian is talking on the phone. It’s hard to make out amidst the pouring rain, so you settle in letting Jon rest his head on your shoulder as he drifts to sleep. The officer said the rest of the force is coming to collect the bodies. The camp is most likely gonna be shut down for the summer. You weren’t keen on spending the entire summer with your cousins.

“I’ve informed father that you’re staying with us for the rest of the summer.”

“Informed?” you laugh, relieved, ”good luck telling Jon that.”

You both eye him. Jon snores into your ear and you can’t help but smile. “He’ll be fine.”

Bonus

The map in Jon’s hands crinkles loudly as he shuffles through it trying to find the correct route. You know the route. You memorized it before you even set off. You did it instead of studying for finals. It was certainly more entertaining than studying for a US history final when you already knew it was just gonna be about the American Revolution, World War II, and probably the Vietnam war. You hold back the snicker threatening to spill from your lips when, with each crinkle of the Dollar Store map, Damian’s brow twitched. Yes, this was the purpose of the map. It was most certainly doing its job well.

“You think they’ll still have the same dumb camp activities?”

“You say this like you weren’t squealing to try all of them.”

“Was not!”

“Dunno, Jon, Dami has a pretty good memory.”

Your car rolls to a stop in front of a cross-section. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel before you let curiosity override your self-preservation.

“How did you convince Dami to come along?”

Jon tilts his head at you in question. “I didn’t,” he says slowly, “I thought you did.”

Your passenger goes deadly silent. You both twist your bodies to look at him. Jon gives him a knowing smile while you give him a reassuring one that says ‘it’s ok you can tell us’. Damian avoids all eye contact like the plague, glaring at the window like there’s a particularly interesting speck of dust on it.

His eyes narrow. And you have the odd urge to follow his gaze.

The trees shift.

The pressure in the car builds.

Jon’s laughter stalls.

A shape flickers in the distance.

Your ears pop.

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

a/n: THANKS FOR READING! Yes, reader has a prosthetic limb because I was reading 3 birds. Also, this can be treated as pre-slash. Epilogue is up for interpretation. Probably. Also fun fact, Faust is the basis for merc reader. I could not resist putting her in.

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #jon kent imagine #jon kent x reader #damian wayne imagine #batboys x reader #batfamily x reader

176 notes · View notes

hotchley · 3 years

Text

that’s okay

Oh my god it’s out before midnight!! Are you proud of me?? Once again, it has not been proofread, but that’s fine, this is for fun! Also, the same line where Aaron says he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore is also where I lost the plot so erm... yeah

Once again: little plot. Not much point. Low-key hate the ending. May have fucked up Hotch’s character. But I had fun writing it so we’re just... yeah we’re going with.

Title comes from That’s Okay by The Hush Sound (would 10/10 recommend), and I have to thank Caitlin ( @themetaphorgirl ) for that one because I was sat there like: I have everything but a title and then I remembered That’s Okay and was like AHA

Trigger Warnings: trauma, trauma responses, child abuse, religion, religious trauma

read on ao3!

When he finishes his speech, he meets Erin's eyes, determined and angry. At her, for pushing him and doubting his abilities in the one place he felt like he could maintain control in. At Jason, for once again putting him in a situation where he has to take the fall and piece things back together. Because he has to play this stupid game of politics. At the team, because it is easy.

But most of all, he is angry at himself because he shouldn't be angry at them. He shouldn't be angry at Jason or Erin. He shouldn't be angry, because anger means he's creeping closer and closer to the line that separates himself from his father and if he goes too far, he will lose everything and he won't be able to come back. Ever.

"Aaron," she says, and his glare loses its power. She says his name, his first name, like it means something. With a gentleness that he had never felt before Haley softly repeated it to herself, as though she was trying to test out each syllable before she got too close.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "That comment about your son was unfair. I know you love them all equally."

She shakes her head. "Don't apologise. You know I don't enjoy doing this. Undermining you like this. Asking these questions, saying these things. But if we are both going to keep our jobs, then I have to."

At that moment, she is not Strauss. She is Erin, just another victim of bureau politics, trying to keep her head above water. It's what causes Aaron to reply, instead of just walking out.

"I know," he says. "I know."

"Why don't you ever let Jason take the fall for his mistakes? I'm not an idiot, I know these things aren't your doing. He's a grown man. He can accept the consequences that come with acting the way he does. You don't need to take them."

She doesn't understand. He does. He needs to take them because taking punishment is the only way he can atone for the multitude of sins he commits every single day. He needs to take the blame because he is the only one that can come back from it. The only one that can be replaced with ease.

He needs to take the blame because it reminds him that this, just like everything he has been stripped of in his life- his childhood, his ability to love, his warmth, his innocence, his faith in both something else and humanity- this can and will be taken from him the moment he puts a foot wrong.

The Bureau, much like the small town in Virginia that he will never refer to as home because he never once felt safe, not even when Haley held him with gentle and unblemished hands, does not show anyone mercy. Least of all those that dare to speak out against injustice.

"I do. Jason Gideon is nothing without the BAU. I can't take that from him," he says.

He hates to be vulnerable with her, but she is the only one left that he truly trusts. That remembers the boy he was when he first joined. That knows the lock on his drawer is not because there is alcohol, but because he keeps the file with his incomplete profile of George Foyet in there.

"And you?" she asks.

"And I?"

"What are you without the BAU?"

And isn't that the question he wishes he knew the answer to? He is not a father, he knows that much. A real father wouldn't have hesitated to transfer after Jason returned. A real father would kiss their son goodnight without feeling guilty and hug them without fear. And he is not a husband. On a technicality, he is, but even he can see that Haley isn't happy. The day where she leaves will be sooner rather than later, and he will be powerless to stop her.

A part of him doesn't want to fight. It will be easier on both of them if she leaves before the inevitable happens. Before the pieces of himself he gives up to do this job become irretrievable. Before he is more than just his father's mirror, he is his father's son.

Before the job he is nothing without ruins her life beyond repair.

"I don't know," he confesses. In some strange way, he feels like a child again. Being asked by the priest what he thinks his punishment for lying about what really happens in the Hotchner family home should be, even though he wasn't lying. He was never lying. They were all just too afraid to confront the truth.

The same way he was.

"Get some rest. I'll speak to the Director and other higher-ups. You'll have a job to come back to. I promise."

It is an impossible promise, one she may not be able to keep, but her tone is gentle and her words soothe him the way a parents' declarations of love never had, so he simply nods and exits her office.

He doesn't look at any of the team when he gets back to his office. He doesn't bother to knock on Jason's door to make sure he isn't looking through the Book of the Damned. When Derek calls his name, he speeds up, knowing that out of all of them, he owes him the most answers, but finds himself completely unable to give them.

Haley doesn't know that he is returning. He doesn't have the energy to tell her. As he turns onto their road, he is almost tempted to keep going. Past their house. Past her sister's apartment. Past her parents' house and his father's grave. Past everything that keeps him grounded.

The idea of giving into temptation was something drilled out of him long ago. So he turns into their driveway, wondering what the neighbours will say when one of them inevitably moves out. Will they find it sad, that the young couple they had all hoped would last, had fallen apart? Will they wonder what the final straw was?

Haley is still in her work clothes when he enters the living room. She had already picked Jack up from his daycare on her way back, and her son- as far as he's concerned, he's nothing more than the sperm donor- babbles away happily as he plays with the toys his mother and aunt had picked out for him on their last day out together.

"You're back early," she says, without any malice.

"Strauss told me to get some rest," he replies. "How are the students?"

She smiles at the mention of her class. "Glad to have me back. Excited for your next Southern treat, because no matter how many times I tell them I also lived in that town, they only want it if you made it."

"Well you moved there for your junior year, so I can understand why," he jokes, but instead of wiping away the bad memories of the case, it leaves him more exhausted than before.

"Aaron, what happened today?" she asks him, so attuned to his moods and feelings that he often wonders why she doesn't become a profiler.

"It's nothing," he tells her. No matter how many times she begs for him to tell her why he wakes up in the middle of the night, to share why he can't touch her without showering for a longer amount of time than can be healthy, he won't.

"You don't need to say specifics. But please don't lie to me."

"I'm sorry. I- can we eat first?"

Her mouth parts with shock. Of course they can eat first. She would do whatever was needed if it meant he would finally, after so many years of being married, tell her the truth about his job. She understood his need to keep it a secret. But when he came home, looking more defeated than he had at sixteen, she worried.

He puts Jack to sleep before climbing into bed beside her. She puts her book down- she hadn't really been reading it, just holding it to give her something to do- and turns so she's laying on her side. Absent-mindedly, she starts drawing circles on his stomach. His hand trembles as he removes it, placing it on the bed sheet.

"I profiled the team today," he begins.

Haley sits up properly. "I thought you had a rule against that."

"We do. But Erin… pushed. And before I knew what was happening I was sharing information about all of them. Things that- I don't know if they know that I know. And Erin is too good to use it to blackmail any of us but she isn't a profiler. They'll realise she knows."

"What did you tell her?" is all she says. She knows her husband. Knows how he takes everything personally, and how he will hold himself to unreachable standards because he was never allowed to be anything but perfect, and anything less than that is failure.

He tells her, in almost perfect verbatim, the same words he told Erin. Towards the end, his voice starts to get choked up. She knows he stutters when he feels under pressure or anxious and she knows he hates it. So instead of speaking, she takes his left hand, clasps it with both of hers and rubs circles over the knuckles.

For a moment, he stops speaking, staring at their interlocked hands instead with a look of slight wonder. Like even after all this time, he still couldn't believe he got to touch her. That she wanted to touch him, in spite of his devils and darkness.

It gives him the strength to finish.

"And you?" she asks, after it becomes clear he won't offer any more information as to why it hurt him so much.

Her question is an echo of Erin's, and he closes his eyes, giving himself a few moments to get lost in his head, where it is not necessarily safe, but is where he can be alone and not pretend to be good.

"And I?"

"What did you say about yourself?"

"I said that if she could find someone better, then I wished her luck," he says, voice completely flat and monotone.

Haley tries to not be offended that he is speaking to her like she is an officer of the law, or a suspect, instead of her husband. "Why didn't you say more?"

"More?"

She nods. "You're feeling guilty because you profiled the team, but you didn't. You shared the pieces of them that make them human. That make them good agents and even better people. You didn't say anything like that about yourself. Why not?"

"Because I'm not like them. My trauma- I'm just not like the rest of the team, okay?"

"I know enough about trauma to know it affects every person differently, so I won't dispute that one. But if you're saying that you're not like the rest of your family, not team, then what are you like? Because from where I'm sitting, you are."

"I'm not," he repeats, growing slightly agitated.

She needs him to understand he is. "Aren't you?"

"No." this time, there is venom in his words. But it doesn't frighten her. It never has. The only time his words have such hatred injected into them is when he's afraid of himself. She's never been afraid of him. She never will be. Because to her, he is good. He is trying.

"How?" she pushes one last time.

And the dam explodes.

“I’m not soft! I’m not beautiful or kind or good or any of the things those stupid, stupid motivational quotes say! I’m not- I’m not like the others and all I want to know is why. Everyone else is good. They’re light and sweet and good. We’ve all been- we all have trauma. Why can’t I- why am I different? Why did mine make me violent and scared and- why can’t I move on?”

It was not what she was expecting. It was not what she thought he was going to say, and now she doesn't know what she is meant to do. She doesn't know how to piece him back together. Not this time. Not when his words are a confession he has been clinging to since the day he met Spencer.

"Aaron," she begins, for lack of other words to say.

"Don't," he cuts her off. "Please. Just don't. I can- I'll sleep in the guest room. You shouldn't have to deal with me when I'm like this."

"You're having a bad day. It's what I signed up to deal with," she says.

He shakes his head. "Not like this. Not like- Haley, what kind of father avoids his son the way I do because they're afraid? What kind of man doesn't know the difference between safety and happiness? How broken am I if my twenty-five year old subordinate can move on better than I can?"

"You're scared. You're a victim of child abuse. It's not- it's normal that you feel like this. I think. Aaron, I don't know. I don't know what kind of person this all makes you. But when I look at you, I see the man I married, the one so terrified of everything, thriving. I see someone that suffered atrocities that nobody should ever be put through fighting with everything they are, to break that cycle. I don't know how to make you feel better, but I vowed to be honest with you. And this is me doing that."

"You're the first person to tell me it wasn't my fault," he whispers. "Everyone else always said that I must've done something to deserve it."

"You were a child Aaron. You all were."

It was the wrong thing to say.

"We were all children, but they're all better. They haven't closed themselves off. They- I see them, with their unfailing faith in humanity and it hurts. It physically hurts. What am I doing to them? What happens when the evil they see outweighs the goodness?"

"It's okay, Aaron," she laughs, because if she doesn't, she will cry and she will not do that. Not in this moment. "It's- the trauma and the hurt and the heartbreak doesn't always give you faith. It doesn't always make you a better person. Yes, they are still positive and happy and beautiful and good, but so are you. It's just buried somewhere. Because sometimes the trauma just hurts."

He stares at her eyes, and she sees the tears that had been threatening to fall since he got into the bed start to spill over. With one cautious hand, she wipes it away. She counts it as a win when he leans into the touch without flinching.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he whispers.

"That's the beautiful thing about love. We are all entitled to it. It's just about whether or not we'll take it."

"I don't know how to stop being so broken," he adds.

"You're not- people are not broken. Not ever. They are damaged by life and the terrible things that other people do, but they're never broken. Not beyond repair. Do you hear me? You are not broken. You never were. You were just hurt. But there are so many people that love you. That want to help you. All you have to do is ask."

"I know. I just- I wish he didn't have such a tight hold on me. I wish I could be more like Penelope. Or Derek. They're so beautiful, with their faith in love and goodness. Derek didn't have anyone. Not in the way I had you."

She didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about. "He was your father. Even despite everything, he took time off work when you had chicken pox and played with you when you were old enough to remember the snow."

"I know. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Do you think I'll always be like this? Cold and unapproachable and full of darkness?"

"The only people you are ever cold and unapproachable with is unsubs. Suspects. And there's nothing wrong with darkness. There's no light without it." she can't say anything more than that. Not without lying.

"You always know what to say," he says to her, hesitantly pulling her closer towards him.

She smiles. "It's because I love you."

His own smile fades, and he doesn't reply, instead brushing her hair off her face. She tries to not let it sting. The words had never been something said freely in his house. Never used to actually express love, only as a plea for mercy. There are a few minutes of silence, and she think he's finally fallen asleep.

Then he speaks.

"Haley, what if I can't save them? I've already failed once. What if this, part of me, means the next time they need me, I can't be there? I can't save them?"

She thinks her answer over for a few minutes.

"Sometimes the way to save other people is to save ourselves. You need to save yourself first. But listen to me."

She can tell he's fighting sleep now, so she speaks quickly.

"There is nothing wrong with you. Yes, you are flawed and you make mistakes, but that is because you are human. We all make mistakes. We are never perfect. You are not the only one to screw up. But this part of you-" she places a hand over his heart "-this part of you is not broken. It is not wrong or anything that you were led to believe it was. You are exactly what and where you need to be. And I love you for that."

"Do you promise?"

She swallows. "Of course I do."

She's not entirely sure whether she's lying, but he drifts off with a smile, so she decides she doesn't care. There are certain lies she is willing to tell, if only so her husband has one night of peace.

Thinking of him as her husband is painful, because she knows it is only a matter of time before one of them snaps. Before this balance he has fought so hard to achieve topples like Jack's building blocks. She knows which way it will topple. She isn't angry.

But the balance hasn't toppled yet. It won't for a few weeks. So maybe it is wrong, but instead of pulling away, she lets herself hold her husband, the steady beating of his heart sending her to sleep.

She is right though. Even when she's no longer there, he knows she is right. That sometimes the pain is not poetic or character-building. Sometimes, it is just pain, and the only way forward is directly through it. It is not easy, but it is possible.

Everything is possible, so long as he lets himself feel without guilt.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #hotch x haley #haley hotchner #erin strauss #tw trauma #tw trauma response #tw child abuse #tw religon #tw religious trauma #sad aaron hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #sumayyah writes cm

39 notes · View notes

batarella · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Hate You - Part 14 (Jason Todd x Reader)

Hi. this is batarella’s friend speaking. she said she’ll be in hiding for the next 24 hours until the next chapter is posted before an angry mob shows up outside her house.

WORDS: 7337 WARNINGS: THE AMOUNT OF ANGST IN THIS ONE IS ASTRONOMICAL. SO MUCH VIOLENCE. HEARTBREAK. FIGHTING. SELF HARM.

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

At the back of his car, parked in the school’s driveway, he pulled you into the backseat before he was just about to take you home.

Your legs were over his lap, his arm around you leaning against the car door and his other hand resting comfortably over your breast, you sighed into his warmth. And because it was heated inside, the windows were too fogged up for anyone to see you.

Jason. Jason. Jason. Jason. Jason.

For one thing, the sex was phenomenal. He was getting so good at it.

So good at it. You could have all your filthy daydreams all day.

You just loved it when he takes careful notice of how you react to the million different ways he touches you, how he explores your body well enough to give you an even better orgasm than the last one. And how he handles you, so gentle, cherishing each part of you, making you feel so treasured and precious. If there was a book on how to love someone, this was an entirely new section you never found out about until now. Fucking was one thing. But doing it with someone you’d give up your own life for, someone you loved so tremendously, it was certainly the most beautiful thing in the world. He’d kiss every part of you, make you feel like you were made of gold by the way he holds you so delicately. But when it calls for it, your hips end up getting bruises and you’d barely be able to walk the next day. Fuck, you were obsessed with it. It had only been a few months, and still you could barely keep your grabby hands off him.

But that was just one thing. You haven’t had a fight in so long, you could barely remember the last time you were mad at him. And when you did, you wanted nothing more than to forget it. As far as you knew, each second you spent with Jason was the last, and it would all be a waste if you weren’t trying your best at being happy with him. He kisses you more. Tried better to make you feel like you were the world. Every Friday he stays over at your place for the night and you’d end up staying awake the whole time watching movies, talking, fucking, or sneaking out into the city.

And the urban exploring. There were so many places abandoned in Gotham it was a surprise the city was still up at all. From all the monstrous villain attacks that end up leaving some mall too destroyed, a church too unsafe to have people in, an old toy shop forgotten, carnivals, mansions, and most of all, asylums. You and Jason have gone through so many of these places, it was always going to be something special that only you and him shared. Even when the places were borderline haunted, you’d hold his hand, look around and up at the roofs about to fall in, and it would be the best things to remember.

But…

There was just one thing that held you back.

“Hey,” you whispered, and he went down to kiss your neck. “Can you take me home now?”

“Just a sec.”

You gasped when he took your earlobe in with his teeth.

“Let’s continue this at home.”

Jason smiled, then his phone rang. You kissed his cheek and neck while he answered, hand trailing down his crotch.

“Bruce?”

You kept going, straddling his lap while licking his neck. He held back a groan, but he grinded up to you.

“Shit. Can I take a pass?” he said. He held the back of your head and pulled you away before he’d moan, but you kept going.

“Fine.”

He hung up, then you felt him sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to take you home now. I got to go…”

You stopped, then pulled away to look at him in the eye, then look down. “Hey,” he kissed you again. “I’ll call you tonight. I won't be out too late.”

You slid off him and forced yourself to smile.

“It’s fine.”

You hadn’t told him yet. And frankly, you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you believed it yourself.

“What is it that he’s asking you to do, again?”

You watched every detail on his face.

“He wants me to work in his company. I’m his assistant. Some sort of sidekick,” he laughed.

You forced yourself to buy it.

So even with a thought at the back of your mind, something that had lingered for months since that night of your first time, you chose to ignore it, or just not believe it entirely. Whatever it was, it wasn’t true. What you saw wasn’t actually there. And if it was true, it would break everything you worked so hard to build for months. You weren’t going to let that happen. So as long as he was okay, alive, with you, nothing else should matter.

Should it?

-----

It would have been so easy.

Penguin. On his knees, unarmed and struggling to even get up. There were dozens of guns around the room left by his unconscious goons. And with Robin standing over him, having the liberty of doing whatever it was he wished onto this sick, corrupted little man, Robin had every reason to end this son of a bitch’s life. Just a few weeks ago he put Dick in a coma in Bludhaven. This was supposed to be when they bring him to justice, to bring everyone he’s ever killed to justice.

A pistol, sitting right in front of him. It was so easy to pick up, place right up against Cobblepot’s twisted skull, and pull the trigger.

But then…

Then…

He found himself doing that very same act, just when he thought it had only been a thing of his mind. Robin held a gun in his hand, pointed it right into the Penguin’s head. And in that split second, he realized what he was doing.

A batarang came flying in and pierced his hand. Robin dropped the gun, hissing and falling to his knees on the ground.

Batman never looked at him so furiously.

Brought into the cave, Robin started for the door.

“Good night.”

“Jason-“

“I said good night.”

“JASON.”

He knew what was about to happen. So many times, he’d been warned. Weeks and weeks have happened and still, Jason managed to do that. Any second longer, Cobblepot would be dead, and Jason would be a killer. He proved to everyone and himself that he was willing to take a life, something Robin wasn’t supposed to stand for.

Jason stopped, his hand injuring itself from gripping too hard.

“Take that suit off,” Batman said. “And leave it here. For good.”

“You’re kidding me-“

“FOR GOOD!”

He looked at Bruce dead in the eye. The larger man was unmoving, furious beyond belief, and had just about enough of his rebellious antics. Jason knew exactly what was going to happen and did it anyway. Did he do it on purpose? To show Bruce that despite being by his side for so many years, his beliefs never rubbed off on him? That after all those years taking care of himself, he, having twice as much street smarts as Bruce and Dick combined, knew that the only real way of ridding the world of a villain’s horrible doings was to rid the world of the villain entirely?

Bruce wouldn’t know. He’d been sheltered far too much in his life. But Jason’s life was a disaster enough for him to know Robin’s ideals just weren’t for him. That he was destined for something so entirely different, far from what Dick was doing, from anybody else. He was right. He was no Dick Grayson. He never will be.

So fine. Let Bruce take the suit.

“You know damn well keeping him alive kills hundreds more, Bruce. How do you live with that?”

“I live knowing I keep myself from being just as much of a killer as he is. You don’t know half the things I’d do if I fell into that hole.”

“Then you're a coward,” Jason fired back. “You can't control yourself. That’s on you. Think of all the people you could have saved.”

“And the people I’ll kill? So many more.”

Bruce left the cave.

Jason stormed into his room, ripped his suit off and threw it right across the hall.

Then he punched the wall hard enough to leave a small dent.

He didn’t scream or break anything more. He was lost. He knew he wasn’t going to find himself for a longer time than he’d think. He stayed against that wall, his fist in a hole, long enough to find any thought he could focus on, but it was true, no matter how much he tried to go with Bruce’s fucking morals, he ended up falling right back into his own.

He did kill that man. The one that fell four stories off a building. He killed him. The blood was on his hands. And all this? It was all just a way for him to justify what he did so he wouldn’t get eaten up by the guilt. Or the lack of guilt, thereof. That was what he feared of himself the most.

Because even after he’d realized he’d killed that man, he felt nothing. In fact, he was proud of it. And he’d do it again. Over and over. So long as it were the people who’d killed so many more, left so many families empty and broken, he’ll never feel a shred of regret. And that was what he was trying to make up for. He was afraid of himself, of what he’ll become.

Being Robin was the only thing holding him back from being what he was truly meant to be. That he had ideals to follow whether or not he agreed to them. He had something to tell him what was supposed to be. And now, without the suit, he knew he’d have to succumb. He’ll have to become someone he had always believed in. and even though he loved Bruce, Dick, Alfred, he was always going to fight for the people. Not justice. Not himself. For the people. No matter what it takes, that’s where he’s headed.

And good god, did it scare him. It scared him to death.

His phone rang. You. He forgot he promised to call you that night.

“Asshole.” He heard your voice, and he slid with his back against the wall, eyes shut close.

“Sorry. I was just about to call.”

“You sound beaten up. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m tired.”

“Are you sure-“

“Yes,” he sighed, running his wet palms over his scrunched-up face. He wanted to break everything he could get his hands on. His whole room. Everything he could touch. He really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

But everything with you was going so well...

“I can come over if you want. I have a movie I’ve been wanting us to watch.”

“It’s fine. You stay there.”

You were silent. For a while.

“Can we watch it this Friday?”

“I don’t think I can go there tomorrow. I’ll just see you in school.”

“Why not?”

He counted to ten. The last thing he wanted was to lash out on you.

“Just… I’ll try, okay?”

“Fine,” you grunted. “I’ll just go to bed, then.”

“Good night.”

He heard you scoff. “What is wrong with you?”

“You said you wanted to go to be-“

“Fine. Maybe I will.”

You hung up.

Months since your last fight. And just like that, you hated him again.

The dent in the wall turned into a hallowed-out hole he’d punched over and over.

-----

You had every right to be mad at him.

But, after knowing what you know now, you chose not to.

Jason kept his eyes on his food and tried his best not to look at you. Expecting you to ignore him, or possibly destroy your tray like you’d do when you fought, he looked up at you in surprised when you suddenly took his hand.

His eyes. They looked so sad, and yet so beautiful. You had changed. For him.

“I’m not mad at you…”

He swallowed his food, licked his lips, then with a long, deepening sigh he nodded at you. “Okay…”

“If there’s anything wrong, you can tell me.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong.”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand, then slowly pulled away so he can go back to eating. You let it slide.

And this. It went on for days. You didn’t fight. But he wasn’t happy, either. He still kissed you, held you when he could. But he had so much in his mind you just knew he was never going to tell you. One thing you did notice, in fact, the bruises he came home with had almost completely disappeared. So with that, you were contented.

Until…

“Y/N and Brandon. You will be partners for this project.”

“Absolutely not,” you cried out in class. “I want another partner.”

Another jock stood up, “I’ll be your partner, hot stuff!!”

“DOWN!” You screamed, and he fell to his chair shivering.

“I want another partner,” you said to the teacher. He brushed you off, however. You wanted to choke him right at that second.

Brandon, on the other hand, looked amused. And when class ended, you went straight up to him.

“Football Freak. Tell Jerry we can't be partners.”

“Come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun. If you want I’ll take you over to my house-“

“I will tear out your eyes and step over them with my heels, you shit-headed troll.”

“There you go again with those petty little insults.” Brandon stood you off, and he’d gotten bigger now. “We both know you want thi-“

His body hitting the lockers was loud enough to turn everyone’s head. And they immediately looked at you.

But you hadn’t moved a muscle.

Jason, with the veins on his forehead looking so close to popping, grabbed Brandon by the collar once again and held him up against the wall.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Todd?!”

He didn’t even respond. Jason started punching him mindlessly on the floor. Hit after hit, you saw how his knuckles bruised. You called out his name, but he didn’t listen. Brandon’s blood already spilled on the floor and he kicked him off, and Jason landed on the ground. Wiping the blood off his lips, he lunged after Jason.

One hit to the face, but again, Jason was far too skilled for him. Grabbing his foot, he stretched it all the way to his back, and smashed his face to the ground. The crowd erupted in cries, some cheering for Jason. Some for Brandon.

They rolled on the floor. No one was trying to stop them. Jason managed to stand back up, grab Brandon by the shirt and slammed him right against the concrete walls. You heard a loud grunt and a tooth might have fell out.

And just before he went after Brandon again, you stepped in.

You didn’t even hold him back, or grab his arms just to stop him. All you did, and the only thing you needed to do, was stand in front of him, hold your hand up to his chest, and look at him straight in the eye.

So many times, Jason held you back from doing the same. He’s stopped you from almost pulling a girl’s hair right out of her scalp, from slamming someone’s head right into a concrete pillar. He’s stopped you from ruining someone’s life just by the psychological twisting of your words. You had your own jealous rage that was so easy to lash out on. Even just talking to another girl made you all crabby. And you knew he had his own as well.

But his jealousy. His was so much worse.

Now. Just now, you hoped he’d listen to you just as you’ve always listened to him. He did stop. And you forced him to look at you in the eye.

You saw him try to calm himself.

“ASSHOLE,” Brandon cried out. “YOU JEALOUS I WAS TALKING TO YOUR BITCH OF A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Jason’s head boiled and he tried to push you away, but you didn’t let him. You stood your ground, grabbing his shoulders. “Jason, stop-“

“NEWSFLASH. WE USED TO DATE, JACKASS. ALL THE WAY BACK TO EIGHTH FUCKING GRADE.”

“SHUT UP!!!”

You never let go. You still held on to him. Grabbing his hand, you pulled him towards the door. “Jason, let’s go home.”

“HOPE YOU FEEL GREAT ABOUT GETTING TO TAP THAT ASS, JASON TODD-“

You grabbed a book from one student’s arms and slammed its spine right at Brandon’s already bruised face. He fell to the floor.

“Jason, take me home right now.”

He tried so hard to shrug you off, but eventually, he went with you, and you both stormed out of the school, went right to his car before any of the teachers would find him.

You felt his hand shaking. His whole body was at that point. And when you reached the car, you tried to grab hold of him.

And he pushed you away so forcibly you almost tumbled. “Jason-“

“Get in the fucking car.”

You watched him wipe the last of his blood from his busted lip, then walk over to the driver’s seat before slamming the door so hard you could have sword the window broke behind him. Swallowing, you went in the passenger seat.

He never drove out of that parking lot faster than he did.

The best thing you could have done was console him, speak in the lightest voice you could and make sure you let him know you didn’t think he did anything wrong. That was all he needed.

But you didn’t do that.

Instead, you looked straight forward, blocking out all the noises, and sat as still as you could.

“Jason, we were barely even talking-“

“I don’t want you anywhere near that guy.”

“I wasn’t-.”

“Is it true?”

You bit your lip. “What?”

“You and Brandon? Is it true?”

You desperately wanted to go back somehow and beat the crap out of Brandon yourself. You wanted him unconscious. Worse. Dead.

You wanted to put all the blame on him instead of admitting this time, that you were in the wrong. So wrong.

You gulped, took in the cold, stale air, then whispered. “Yes…”

He slammed his fist against the car horn and you flinched at the horrible, ear shattering noise.

“YOU SAID YOU NEVER DATED ANYONE BEFORE.”

“IT WAS IN EIGHTH FUCKING GRADE. IT LASTED A MONTH. IT WAS STUPID AND IT DIDN’T MEAN SHIT. I TELL THAT TO EVERYONE ’CUZ I WANT TO PRETEND IT NEVER HAPPENED WITH THAT ASSHOLE.”

“YOU FUCKING LIED.”

“IT WAS NOTHING. WE WERE KIDS. I WAS BEING STUPID. IT WASN’T EVEN A REAL RELATIONSHIP.”

“YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I FUCKING HATE HIM.”

You breathed. But nothing has felt so hard to do. Your visions became so much of a blur and nothing in front of you made much sense anymore.

“I remember. You told me in that fucking library. That he hit on you and you rejected him…”

You bit your lip. “How was I supposed to know we’d get together…”

“You could have told me anytime the past year, Y/N,” he faked a laugh. “Never once did you mention any of that.”

“You hated that guy to the bone. If I had told you, you’d have hated me, too.“

He violently stepped on the break, and your body was thrown back against the chair. He was an inch away from slamming into another car.

“You. Lied.”

“It wasn’t a big deal…”

“It is to me.”

“So this is what you mean when you get just as jealous as I do?” you scoffed. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion-“

“YOU ALMOST KILL PEOPLE WHEN THEY SIT NEXT TO ME.”

“AND YOU DIDN’T DO THE SAME THING JUST NOW?!”

“YOU-“ he slammed his fist against the window. “FUCK THIS.”

You weren’t crying, though you really fucking wanted to. You wanted to show him just how much he hurt you. And nothing came out. You sat there, an empty, dry-eyed idiot.

“I’m not going to apologize for this,” you said.

“You’re proud of what you did? That’s big. Even for you.”

“I told you. It was nothing.”

“That dickhead didn’t seem to think so.”

“If it weren’t him, would you still whack his brains out?”

“Y/N,” he growled. “If it were just about anyone-anyone-in the whole damn building, I’ll beat them to a bloody pulp.”

“How fucking romantic.”

“Like you're just so adorable when you get jealous.”

“GOD, YOU-“ you stuffed your head into your palm. When was this fucking car ride going to end?

“What other things are you keeping from me?”

“OH. SO WE’RE BACK TO THAT FUCKING CONVERSATION?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t go out at night? You don’t get into fights? You’re not hiding anything from me at all?”

“I told you I-“

“That you’re what?”

“I get into fights! Exactly like this one!”

“At night?!”

A volcano just about to erupt. There was no way you can keep this down anymore. You couldn’t hold this in. Not for a second longer.

And when you watched Jason being silent, looking away from you with his whole face as red of anger as your own, you knew it was true. He was practically outrightly admitting it right now.

And your heart. It never once felt as heavy as it did now.

“I know you’re Robin.”

He reached your house, stopped just by the curb.

Silence.

Your heart was beating so frantically in your chest, yet you didn’t move. You stopped breathing. You looked right in front of you and he did the same.

You wanted desperately for him to say just about anything to contradict what you’d said, to tell you convincingly that it wasn’t true, that you were being insane. Perhaps even tell you another truth that would have been less believable but a lot better to take in. You wanted him to tell you he never hid anything from you, and you’ll happily take the fall for this one.

If he denied being Robin, you’ll apologize for what happened with Brandon. You’ll pour out you're entire fucking heart and soul to beg for his forgiveness. You’ll lose just about everything about yourself trying to prove to him that you’ll always, always be truthful and that you never once thought of lying to his face knowing it would hurt him in the end. All you needed was just a word of denial. Fuck it being so convincing. If he just said it wasn’t true, then you’ll willingly let this go.

But all you heard was the heartbreaking, bitter silence.

His head frozen in place, eyes locked onto the window. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at you.

And at that, your heart broke beyond repair.

And you knew nothing was going to get you out of this. Every fight. Every argument. It never felt like you’d never get through it and you always ended up forgetting what happened, move on, and be just as happy with him as the last day. No fight ever made you feel like you’d never want to go through it all again if it meant you didn’t get to lose him.

But now. There was no getting through this. There was no fixing this.

He got those bruises from fighting, alright. He didn’t lie about that. He just completely left out the part about him being a costumed vigilante, blatantly walking right into death’s door willingly every single night. And he had been for years. He never once hinted anything to you.

And even if you did fix this, would you want a boyfriend you’d have to worry about every night? That he wouldn’t come home at all? Would you marry him, have a family? Have your kids understand that their father died for people he didn’t even know? Would you survive that heartbreak?

Well, your heart was definitely broken now.

“We’re done…” Jason said.

It all didn’t seem so real.

“For good.”

But you understood. Entirely. What did he expect? That you’d object? That you’d beg for him to stay despite everything and apologize on his behalf?

He lost you the moment he admitted to it, despite him not saying anything at all. And now, you lost him. Forever.

“Goodbye, Jay.”

You slammed the door behind you and never looked back.

-----

Now

You were crying your heart out by now. And the therapist, well, she just watched with so much pity for you, you’d have been embarrassed if it wasn’t her job to watch you cry.

“I never once thought that thing with Brandon affected him so much…”

“I think,” she said. “It was amplified by all the other things he was dealing with at home. You said he was already in some kind of mood before all this happened?”

“Yes. He was. Days before. Something happened with him and Bruce. He was upset for a while.”

“It wasn’t just with Brandon, then. It just happened to coincide.”

She gave you a box of tissues, and you took it, taking three from the box and wiping your eyes.

“I guess… but it was after I told him about what I knew when he broke up with me.”

The therapist nodded. “I see. And do you regret letting him know that?”

You looked at the ground.

“If I’d have seen him in school, have the time to realize I should call him back, I don’t think it would have done us any good to keep it more of a secret…”

You gulped.

“But I had known that was the last time I was ever going to see him…”

There it was. Three years-worth of guilt, all put into words. It came crashing down like the shittiest story ever told and the therapist looked at you like she was about to cry as well.

But this was your story. Your shitty story. Everyone cried from this.

“If I had known, I would have happily kept it for the rest of my life…”

The therapist looked at the ground with you as well.

“I don’t think… that would do any good…”

“He died a few days after that,” you blurted out. “Our break up got him depressed, and he ran away from home one night, chased after some crime leader in his neighborhood to air out his anger and it cost him his life. That’s why I blame myself for all this. That’s why I’m gonna have to live with the fact that he died because of me. I let him go too soon. I shouldn’t have gotten out of that car. I should have told him how this was all going to work out. But no, I didn’t. I got out of that car and he died from it.”

Another lie. You knew exactly how he died. It wasn’t from a small-time thug in his neighborhood. It was from someone too utterly deranged to even mention.

“If I had just stayed behind, told him how much I loved him, that I never would have wanted to waste what we had for nothing, he would still be alive. None of this would have happened. I was a coward and I had an unbelievable amount of pride. He died because of that. Because of me.”

The therapist took her mug from the side table, sipped from it, and looked at you. You were covering your face with your hands. “Y/N…”

You looked up at her, your face a mess.

“You can't blame yourself-“

“I do. And I always will.”

She sighed, then gave you the moment you needed of silence.

“He didn’t die because you subjected him to it without his consent. He died because of the horrible way he dealt with it. He died from himself. He picked that fight because he was afraid he’ll lose you. And he did the same when he actually did lose you.”

You looked up.

“It was beyond your control.”

“I could have stopped it…”

“You wouldn’t have known…”

“And that’s why I’m always going to live with it. I didn’t know. I was stupid enough to think he was strong enough to keep himself alive. I have to live with the fact that the last time I ever got to see him was in a stupid fight…”

She stood up and went to her table, grabbing a mug and filling it with water. She gave it to you, and you took it. “Thank you,” you said with your nose filled.

She took her seat. You were silent now. You were giving her a chance to speak. Hopefully to change all this.

“Sometimes, we end up losing people too soon, and we most often regret what we said, or what we didn’t say, the last time we saw them.

“But what of the last few months? You said it was perfect. The best months of your relationship. You were happy with him. And that’s months compared to the one single day you fought. Sometimes, it isn’t about where you got to in the end. It’s about how you spend most of the days you did have. And you were happy. He was happy.”

You looked up from the floor and watched her kind eyes.

“And I think your boy had many issues with himself. At home. With a dysfunctional family. It wasn’t just you, Y/N. It was everything built up. You breaking up was just a symptom of it. All you did was make his life more bearable. Better. I think he would have said that right now if he were here.”

You sipped at your water, feeling the cold pour down your throat.

Better. Sure. Like you didn’t absolutely ruin his life right after that.

-----

Then

Love was never truly something to understand.

You never understood it at all. Neither did Jason. But you both knew it was something so beautiful, something you thought you could only ever have with each other.

They said love is just a type of sanity that society accepted. And it was true. Definitely. You fell so hard for him you were borderline insane. And love made you hurt in so many ways you never thought it could. It was never something to understand. It was just something to feel.

Love isn’t about light and darkness. It isn’t about how people are compatible. It is about depth. It is infinite.

And when it destroys, it hurts more than any kind of physical hurt there was. Love destroys so much; it has ruined so much of the world. The fucking Trojan War was caused by love. And how many died from that? Thousands, not including the civilians affected in battle. All because of a woman named Helen. Men fought over her, for love. And it ended up burning cities.

It’s both a beautiful and ugly being. It is, in fact, a being. An entire entity. And it goes around, striking so many in the heart and leave them helpless beyond fix. It chooses who to hurt. Some, just one sided, and it hurts like a bitch when it does. And when they’re lucky, two people fall for each other.

And when it ends, it hurts even more.

Wrecked beds. Walls filled with fist-shaped holes. Glass broken on the floor. Sheets thrown out. Books torn. Desks almost destroyed. Clothes thrown out in piles. Chairs thrown against the wall. Shelves falling to the ground. Mirrors broken in pieces.

Jason destroyed everything in his room. And you destroyed everything in yours.

Two people with equal darkness. Equal anger. Equal demons. In so many ways, you were perfect together. In some ways, it creates the kind of chaos no one could possibly interfere with.

Jason grabbed his desk chair, the one he’d just bought after he destroyed the last one, and slammed it on the floor repeatedly until it was in three separate pieces. And even then, he took a piece, and slammed it again.

You grabbed your brush. Your pencil holders. Your books. Your bags. Your fucking laptop. And you threw everything all the way to the other side of the room. Your mother probably heard you by now. But she didn’t think to knock.

Jason threw the chair pieces away and started for his desk. His fist was bruised by now, but he could barely feel the pain if it was even there at all. He threw everything off the surface, started balling his fist and slammed it right against the table. Over and over. He wanted it destroyed.

You still felt that rage. You wanted it gone. You took your clothes, started tearing them with their bare hands, then you let your tears fall as you took everything out from your closet. Nothing. Nothing worked. It was just as strong as it had been. It was always there.

His phone started to ring. He didn’t care who it was. He took his phone, threw it against the wall and heard the sparks burst out of it. It fell into pieces on the ground. He went over it, stepped on it with his foot repeatedly until it was broken beyond any kind of repair.

Your scissors. Your fucking scissors. You took your entire fucking drawer full of scissors and started hauling them right into the wall, one by one like you would with darts. They stuck on their sharp ends. You grabbed them, threw them at the door. And when your mother walked in, dodging a pair of scissors just before it landed near her head, you screamed for her to get out.

Bottles. From when he drank a boatload of booze the night before. He grabbed them, started throwing them against the window. Each time he did, it created a new crack, getting larger and larger the harder he threw the bottles. Finally, the window broke, and he shivered at the new rush of cold air.

You wanted to punch something. Anything. You started with the pillows but the lack of pain did nothing to ease your muscles. So you went for the wall. You punched it. Repeatedly. Then your hand broke by your own strength and you screamed immensely at the pain.

He tore his bed. The sheets. The pillows. The whole floor was filled with feathers by now and he couldn’t care less. He ripped everything with his bare hands, threw them across the room. The mattress was all that’s left. And even then, he started to tear it open.

You started hearing his voice. His damned voice. The one you’d hear when he’d console you, rub your back, places kisses on your head. You cursed at that voice and screamed your heart out just to block it out. But nothing worked. It was all you heard.

All he could see was your beautiful, untainted face. And he desperately wanted to forget it. He wanted to forget everything about you. He saw you in the mirror. And with his fist, he slammed it until it shattered around him.

You still couldn’t stop hearing his voice. This time it was screaming at you for what you did. It was all over the room. Echoing so loudly within the walls of your skull. You fell to the ground and started pulling your own hair. You screamed at the pain.

He closed his eyes. You. you. you. It was all he saw. Your face when you’d calm him down. The look in your eyes that always made his heart melt. He stopped punching. He stopped destroying. In the middle of his wrecked room, he sat down and leaned against the foot of his bed.

The tears that you unknowingly held back were here. And they wouldn’t stop pouring out of you. uncontrollably. They fell. You were crying, screaming into the cold, empty air, and still, you heard his voice screaming just as painfully.

Jason never cried so much in his life. Not when his father left. Not when his mother died. Not when he almost dies of hunger one night in the streets. Not when he was first told he was adopted. Never. Not once did he cry. And now, his head against the mattress so torn and destroyed, he sobbed, and your face was all he saw.

You pressed your face against the floor. You hated him so much. You hated how he made you fall in love with him so fucking hard and leave you hurting this much. You hated how he ruined your life, changed you when you never asked to be changed. You hated how you loved him. You hated how you still did.

He wished he was dead. He wished everything never happened. He never should’ve picked that fight, or accepted that detention sentence in the library. He wished he never met you, never fell in love with you, never hoped for something and lose himself so far off that he’d never climb out of it.

The anger was all too much. You hated him, but you hated yourself even more. You hated yourself for everything that happened, how you ruined it. How you ruined him. And you hated yourself most of all, because all you could think about right at that moment was how, despite everything, you still wished he wasn’t nearly as hurt as you. You still cared so deeply for him, enough that you wished he’d be okay.

Jason was never going to be okay. He’ll never get out of this. He threw his head against the hard mattress and sobbed his heart out. He screamed, gripped on his hair. And he swore, with all his life, he was never going to replace you. he was never going to find anyone else that could possibly fill in the hole you left him. Let that hole be. He didn’t want himself fixed. If he were to be hurt, he only wished that it were by you.

You gripped on the carpet and let the burn seep through your palm. You never needed him this much before. Ever. You never yearned for his hold, for his real voice to whisper in your ear as much as you did now. You never wanted his lips on you, his hand holding you up as much as you did now. You never wanted him to hold you so tight to make you believe this couldn’t possibly be over anymore… as much as you did now. And it was. It was over. You lost him.

Jason lost you. Over something he could’ve easily told you a long time ago. You would have understood. You would have taken cared of him. None of this would have happened if he’d just been less of a coward. He lost you. And he was going to hate himself for that for the rest of his life.

You just laid there, silently on the floor, and kept the tears flowing and the cries echoing. You let the hurt fill through you, and you made sure to punish yourself by letting you feel every inch of it. You let yourself realize that you were going to have to go through the next days of your life living through his hellish nightmare.

Jason gripped his hair again. What the fuck was he thinking? Of course, he won't expect you to understand. Of course, he didn’t want you to get hurt like that. Subjecting you into that life, forcing you to have a partner who was putting his life out on the table every night. You didn’t deserve that pain. You didn’t deserve him. He never should have met you. He never should have let you fall in love.

You crawled to lean against the wall, just to have something hold the weight of your body. You never felt so heavy. And when you looked up at the ceiling, you screamed into your palms. Jason would have been worth it. He would have been worth all those reckless nights. And even if you were to lose him to that lifestyle he had, it was better than a life without him at all. A life you were going to have now.

Jason threw one last punch on the floor, and nothing changed. Nothing eased up. There was still that pain in his chest. He looked up the ceiling, letting himself see your face again. He let himself cry over the fact that he was never going to hold you, touch you, kiss you, ever again. You were everything to him. And you were gone. He let you go.

You wanted him. You loved him. You were still undeniably in love with him. And it was the most painful thing in the world knowing he wasn’t yours anymore.

He was always going to love you. Always. And tomorrow, he was going to have to wake up without hearing the sound of your voice.

You swallowed, sobbing silently into your hands. You didn’t want this anymore. You wanted to wake up with all this being a dream.

He needed to talk to you. just once more. He needed to hear your voice. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown it all away.

You looked at your phone. Hoping he’d call. Hoping he’d try to reach out, telling you how much of an asshole he was and that this was all going to be okay.

He’d broken his phone, so he rushed to his drawers, rummaged through the piles he’d thrown on the floor to find the old, broken phone he stopped using after being locked in the library with you.

Maybe you should call him first. Apologize. Tell him you’d willingly go through all that just as long as he was yours. But your finger was stuck hovering over the black screen.

He took his phone, plugged it to the wall to charge. He was shaking so hard. And the minutes felt the longest waiting for the screen to light up.

You turned your phone on and his face stared back at you. Your wallpaper. A picture of you and him in bed. Your faces smiling. Your lips on his cheek. Him winking at the phone. Your heart broke all over again.

His phone finally turned on, and he forgot his sim card was still in his other broken phone. He raced to it, his fingers trembling, and put it in his old one. Without a moment of doubt, he called you.

Your heart stopped when his name popped up on the screen. He was calling you.

You weren’t answering. Five. Ten seconds passed. Nothing.

You wanted to answer. But you ended up staring at your phone with your heart blowing up all the way up your throat.

��Please answer. Please, Y/N. I love you.’

You took too long. His name disappeared. And it ended up a missed call. You dropped your phone to the ground.

His heart shattered at the blank, empty sound at the other end of the phone. He sobbed on the floor, clutching his phone to his chest.

You looked away from the screen before his picture changed your mind. His beautiful face. You made the decision. You let him go.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Everything was going to change.

You were gone.

Jason is a memory.

You destroyed him.

Jason ruined your life.

It’s over.

It was done.

----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

----

everyartistwas-firstanamateur @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive @lucy-roo roseangel013bf @ loxbbg reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader angst #batboys #dc comics #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

130 notes · View notes

miraculous786 · 4 years

Text

A Miniature Meeting With Multimouse > Thirteen

Original Idea

Masterlist

"Wait, so you're saying that you called the Justice League for help?"

Marinette nodded.

"And that they wrote it off as some joke?"

She shook her head again in confirmation, causing Jason to mutter a curse beneath his breath. He clenched his fists in anger, and the only thing that managed to calm him down was the small hand placed on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Nettie, it's just..." he started, before groaning in frustration. "We're heroes. We should have investigated the situation."

"Jay-Jay, don't blame yourself. You didn't have a chance to even see the message in the first place," she scolded lightly. Then, with a grin, she drawled, "Plus, if anyone's to blame it should be Booster Gold."

A dark look began to form over her brother's face, yet he managed to school his expression.

"He's lucky that he's in a different country right now," he mumbled.

The woman next to him chuckled, as her eyes wandered about the room. That was when a frown suddenly settled on her features.

"...We should probably get ready for when they aren't paralyzed anymore, huh?"

Jason turned his head to where she was staring, to be met with the sight of both Red Robin and Nightwing situated in seats across from them. The males were both frozen and slouched back.

"Nah. They're fine like that."

Marinette sighed, standing up from the sofa that she was sat at. Her steps barely echoed in the silent living room as she walked away.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting something," she responded in a voice that became louder each second, until she reappeared in Red Hood's vision again. In her grip was a miniature notepad and pen.

He raised a brow, and watched as she scribbled on two different pages of the book before tearing them off in a quick movement. She then proceeded to place one on each of the frozen men's left hands.

"Autographs, seriously?"

"C'mon, cut me some slack. They deserve them after you two decided to use Venom for no reason."

Pollen - who was snuggled onto Dick's head of hair with a few other kwami - huffed with folded paws. "My Monarch, they deserved it!" her soft voice whisper-yelled quietly. "They disturbed your sleep."

"That still didn't mean that you had to paralyze them!"

"If I may intrude," Duusu spoke up, causing all to glance at her. The feathers that she had fluffed up at the attention. "You haven't had a good night's rest for at least a week."

"No, I did after-"

"Finding out that your brother was alive," Longg carried on coolly, from his perch on Tim's shoulder. "You seemed to have had a distressing amount of bad dreams that night, Guardian."

"I...well..."

Jason gained a soft look. "Nettie..."

"...I-I just...after years of not seeing you and getting over your 'death', you just- reappear? Out of nowhere?" Marinette spoke with watery eyes. "I, I mourned for you, and..."

Red Hood abruptly moved forward, encasing her in strong arms. She stilled for a moment, yet soon broke out of her stupor when the vigilante began to talk.

"I know exactly how you feel, Nettie. I...I had nightmares that night too. Gosh, you should've seen what I looked like that morning. I was practically a zombie."

The girl he was holding close reciprocated the hug after his words, making him sigh in relief. He leaned his head atop hers, then apologised with, "I'm, I'm so freakin' sorry, Nettie."

She remained silent for a few seconds.

"...Me too, Jay-Jay."

He smiled, before planting a kiss to her temple. "Now," he started, "I believe you said that we should prepare for the Replacement and Nightwing over here to unfreeze?"

His sister grinned. "Yep."

Whilst the two began to complete the task - with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine - the kwami laying on Dick's locks began to speak in hushed conversation.

"Tikki, I thought you said that we would have talked to him by now," Ziggy complained.

"Quit with the whining," Stompp said with an annoyed expression. "Can't you see that they just had an emotional moment?"

"Yeah? Well they probably wouldn't have if we'd sorted that Jacob out first."

"Jason."

"Whatever, Wayzz. That's not the point."

"Friends..."

"Let's just go to him now. What's stopping us?"

"The fact that he's Plagg's Chosen."

"Friends..."

"So?"

"Plagg would kill us if he found out that we'd threatened him."

"Friends...?"

"As if! Look at him sleeping over there!" Trixx exclaimed, pointing a paw to the couch nearby. "He's practically drowning in his own drool if you ask me."

"Frien-"

"Guys, shut up! Nooroo wants to talk!"

All conversation suddenly halted, as every single kwami turned their attention to the butterfly god. He shifted about nervously, before saying, "Is, is it okay if I say something?"

"Of course!"

"Go for it!"

"Yeah!"

His lips formed into a small smile. "I, I don't think that the Guardian would be happy either if she found out that we'd spoke like that to Jason. I've s-sensed her happiness with him around, and not only is it because they are soulmates, but because they are siblings as well. I assume that they would be f-fiercely protective of each other."

"...You have a point there, Nooroo."

"Remember what happened last time when she was protective? With Kagami?"

The kwami collectively shuddered.

"Remember how Tikki was proud of Marinette that whole time?"

"Issss that true?"

"Yeah, since Marinette stood up for her girlfriend. Well, girlfriend at the time," Barkk amended. "Right, Tikks?"

When there was no answer, everyone faced the ladybug kwami, only to see her whizz up into the air from Nightwing's head and proceed to fly about the living room frantically.

"Tikks, what...?"

"Friends, the Guardian, she's..."

On the other side of the place, Marinette was sprinting about with an alarmed expression marring her features, as she glanced through all of the windows near to her.

"Nettie, what's wrong?" Jason quizzed, following right behind her. "Are you okay?"

"Nope. No, no, no, no, no I am not okay!" she responded, whilst making her way over to the Miracle Box on a shelf nearby. Her hands picked it up delicately, then opened it up with a simple tap.

Dozens of jewellery were revealed. She chose to quickly pick up a comb with stripes all over, and place it in her hair.

"Nettie?"

"Yes?" she called in a distracted way.

"What is it?"

"It's someone else with the Lazarus on them," she informed, turning to face him. "Stay here and look after Plagg, I'll go check it out."

The younger one sauntered to where her bedroom was, while commanding, "Pollen, Buzz On."

"Wait, someone els-"

Red Hood cut himself off when a bright yellow light surrounded her form, prompting him to shut his eyes tight. When he opened them back up, he found himself standing in front of a shut door.

Just as he was about to grab the handle of it, a hand on his shoulder halted his actions. He whipped his head around to see Nightwing giving him a worried look, whilst several kwami sat on his onyx hair.

"Dick, what are you-"

"It's B and Little Wing," he responded, not answering his asked question. "They told us that they were coming on the comms, but I couldn't tell you since I was paralyzed."

"Venom!" a muffled voice shouted from behind the door.

"Frick," Jason cursed, as he lifted a leg up to kick down the entrance of the bedroom. He rushed in, holding out two pistols at the balcony in front.

However, after a few seconds, they both clattered to the floor.

"...Thaaaat's not good."

"No crap, Timbers! This is, just-"

"I didn't mean to do it!" Marinette squeaked, inching back into the direction of the balcony nearby. "I swear!"

"No, no, no," Red Hood placated, coming forward with his hands held out. "Ssshh, it's okay, Nettie. I know you didn't, just- just come here, okay?"

He stepped over both the unconscious Robin and paralyzed Batman on the carpet, and came close. Then, his arms opened up as an invitation, causing his sister - now in black and yellow stripes - to come rushing into him.

Strong arms hugged her tight, as the owner of them sent a knowing look to Tim and Dick. It took them a moment to gather their bearings, yet after doing so, they nodded in understanding.

"I'm so sorry."

"Nettie, no, it's not your fault," Jason hushed, petting her head in a comforting manner. "Let's go back to the couch, okay? Don't worry."

She hesitantly shook her head to agree.

~*~*~

@northernbluetongue

@2sunchild2

@shamefullove

@kceedraws

@kittyanonymity

@vivilakitty

@unholykrow

@winter-gardenflower

@thepeacetea

@theatreandcomicfreak

@maribat-shenanigans

@cassiopeiathequeen

@ace-aro-agender

@rhub4rb

@chocolate1721

@st0rmy-w1th1n

@legallyspawned

@zebrabaker

@novicevoice

@shizukiryuu

@vixen-uchiha

@hypnosharkrebeldreamer

@crazylittlemunchkin

@bisha43rbs

@bluerosette23

@loverofnoir

@thewheezingbubbledragon

@jade-taillia

@drarryismylife101

@ladybug-182

@dur55

@firesong323

@that-feeling-wyn

@mlbchaosqueen

@multplelifes

@thequeenofunicornss

@thesunanditsangel

@ladysblackcat

@myazael

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@loveswifi

@grimmhallow31

@castielsofficialtoothbrush

@moonlightstar64

@maribat-is-lifeblood

@corabeth11

@indecisive-mess-named-me

@tired-butterfly

@shadowberrybinch

@kanamexzeroyaoifangirl

@elmokingkong

@nyaabinch

@naoryllis

@dorkus-minimus

@7-sage-7

@mooshoon

@timetomakeanewwish

@princess-of-fangirls

@dast218

@i-like-fairytail-and-stuff

@nataladriana9

@freshbark

@hell-or-high-waters

@lunarwolfspn

@juhavs

@uwuteamleader

@sassakitty

@hauntedwintersweets

@serendipitousa

@fontegagrilledcheese

@iloontjeboontje

@luleck

@palvine-of-the-alvins

@sparkle9510

@kittycatwowmeow

@eliza-bich

@bluefyoto94

@marinettepotterandplagg

@clumsy-owl-4178

@greenishivy

@jeminiikrystal

@damianette-is-life

@chocolatecatstheron

@moonystars14

@sofmimis

@schrodingers25

@toodaloo-kangaroo

@geminikessa

@angelic-anissa

@smolplantmum

@maribat-march2020

@maribat-2k20

@redscarlet95

@soupfilledboots

@maybemanymuffins

#jasonette #platonic jasonette #maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #ml x dc

289 notes · View notes

danielslilangel · 4 years

Text

In the Middle is How I Like It pt. 1

Part One Part Two Part Three

I had been working on solo ship smut pieces but I read a fic the other day involving Jason and Tim being together because of Marinette (I can’t remember who wrote it or where I found it so if I remember I will give credit to the writer!) Anyway, that story sparked an idea for a Jay/Mari/Tim fic. Yes, they’re brothers on paper but i liked how her story kind of ignored that so I’m gonna just do the same XD Not sure how long it’ll end up being but i have a few scenes planned. This is just the opening scene so nothing Mature here... but be warned, there will be Mature/Explicit content in future updates. I’m not a fan of trying to format things on AO3 but eventually it will get put on there. Enjoy?

Marinette giggled at the latest thing the man to her left was saying before taking another pink Princess shot off the bar top and downing it. As soon as she put the empty glass back where it came from, the man on her right captured her attention once more with a compelling story on why he had come to Paris in the first place.

It had been a rough day in the office as she sorted through the newest flood of commissions that had dropped in her inbox after the latest article on MCD was published in an American magazine and she really wasn’t complaining about the amount of work she had to do over the next few months- really, she loved the ideas her clients supplied her with and couldn’t wait to get started on all of them, but a girl could love her job and was still entitled to a few drinks to help take the edge off of all the expectations being placed upon her.

It hadn’t taken long for Marinette to garner a lot of attention after arriving alone at the bar tonight. She had turned every single one of them away, nicely, of course, but there was just something about the latest two men who had approached her that had the black haired beauty allowing them to take a seat on either side of her and buy her a few shots.

It was pretty obvious from the glares they threw towards each other that the men knew one another somehow and their strange dynamic was part of the reason why Marinette was so interested in them. The other part of her intrigue stemmed from something much more basic… they were both fucking hot!

Timothy Drake had introduced himself first after ordering three shots of vodka that he promptly dumped into his thermos of what smelled like exceptionally strong coffee. He wasn’t tall by usual standards, but Marinette was short so she considered everyone tall by default. His dark hair and blue eyes drew her in and she had been unable to resist smiling up at him as he asked “is this seat taken?” He was apparently a CEO of a large American business which fascinated Marinette as he couldn’t have been more than twenty-three. When she said as much he laughed and told her that her skills of deduction were spot on and that he was indeed a young business man her age, but he had help getting the job as it was his father’s company he ran.

“Not that I don’t absolutely deserve the position. I worked hard to convince him to give me a chance. I have quite a few degrees and have helped the company grow exponentially since I took over for Dad.” His voice wasn’t smug or boastful at all as he told her about himself and it was quite refreshing for Mari. She was used to the air of diva that often surrounded those with wealthy parents. After all, she had gone to school with Chloe Bourgeois all those years.

Jason Todd had arrived about ten minutes after Tim and had captured Marinette’s attention as well, though he was almost as opposite from the other man as one could be. Tall and muscular with toxic green eyes that seemed to glow in the bar’s dim lighting and a rebellious white streak running through his black hair- everything about Jason screamed bad boy while everything about Tim screamed unknowingly-attractive nerd. Jason was unapologetically loud as he chucked his motorcycle helmet onto the wooden bar and ordered a Jack and Coke. His eyes surveyed the room in a practiced way that told Marinette he was accustomed to trouble before his gaze landed on her. His broody scowl instantly evaporated and a brilliant smile lit up his face as he plopped down on the stool next to the small Asian girl. She had expected a cheesy pickup line out of someone who looked and acted like him, but Jason surprised her by asking her name and what brought her to the bar tonight. Their conversation flowed with ease and she couldn’t help but laugh at the jokes he told.

As compelling as he was, she couldn’t forget about the man to her left and after enjoying some time getting to know Jason, Marinette leaned backwards to introduce the two men to one another. She quickly realized how unnecessary that was as they greeted one another briskly.

“Jay.”

“Timmy.”

She had been quickly caught up in a game of 'capture the girl's attention' and had been unable to figure out their connection to one another, but Marinette felt a growing suspicion in the back of her mind that seemed to be getting closer to confirmation as the two kept up their own conversations with her.

“Mhmm,” she nodded and agreed with whatever Jason had last said as she pulled out some bills from her handbag and placed them on the bar as payment for her drinks. She took a final sip of her pink lemonade martini and leaned back in the stool before pointing a manicured finger in the direction of both men. “So… you two know each other, right?”

The pair sighed in surround sound before answering “yes” in dulled unison.

“Right. So, have you guys ever…” she trailed off with a smirk on her face, her hands gesturing in a way that left no need to imagine what she was asking them about. “Cause I’m sensing some serious pent up energy here.”

Jason choked on his drink and nearly spit it out while Tim took a moment to chug the rest of his.

“Never,” they answered in unison again and it only made Mari's smile grow more feral as she hopped off the barstool, heels clicking against the tile, and straightened out her mini skirt.

“I guess that means the two of you would be opposed to joining me at my place tonight?” Her voice was nothing but soft and sweet even as her eyes drank in every inch of the men who were both stunned into silence and left blushing as she pulled out a single scrap of paper from her bag and jotted down her address before placing it upon the stool where she had sat. “When the two of you manage to pick your jaws up off of the floor, I hope you also manage to make your way here this evening. Au revoir.” She winked and waved at them before strutting out of the bar and to hail a cab to take her back to her loft.

I cannot believe I just invited both of them back to my place, she thought as the cold Parisian air nipped at her face, sobering her up just enough to process what she had actually just done. Oh God…

She was pulled out of her mental spiraling before it could begin by a large hand reaching around her to open the cab's door as it pulled up alongside the curve. She arched an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, genuinely surprised to see that Jason was to her right again. She was even more surprised to notice that Tim had appeared on her left. Neither men said a word or made eye contact as the three of them slid onto the back seat with Mari in the middle. In fact, the- thankfully- short and silent car ride was only interrupted by Marinette giving directions to the driver before settling back against the warm leather. She hadn’t exactly thought out her plan of asking them both back to her home and she still wasn’t really sure what was going to happen, but she felt the alcohol strengthening her resolve and she was not about to turn an opportunity like this down. Both men took up a lot of space so Marinette was quite smushed between them and could feel their warmth radiating throughout the tiny space and the close proximity made it hard to think about anything else but being between them.

“Merci.” She thanked the driver and passed over the payment for the ride before sliding out of the car after Tim who had reached a hand in to help her with her exit. She made it a few steps towards her door before looking back behind her and noticing the men standing still awkwardly alongside the road.

“You boys coming or will I have to do that alone tonight?”

More pink rose to the cheeks before they lurched forward in sync, following after the her like a pair of puppies.

#miraculust #miracusin #maribat #marinette dupein cheng #marinette x tim drake x jason todd #my writing #miraculous ladybug #Smut

281 notes · View notes

scandalsavagefanfic · 4 years

Note

2/2 Also I have a question does anyone from Jason's harem have feelings for him, or they all just here for pretty boytoy?

I’m answering part 2 of this question first because I have some ideas for part 1.

Short answer is, yes. Most of them actually care about him in one way or another. Not people like Lex of course. Slade doesn’t have feelings for Jason but he likes the kid as much as he likes anyone. But the Justice League love him and they’re very protective. The al Ghuls love him. Ra’s has more romantic interest than Talia but they’d both kill someone for hurting him.

And of course a certain Green Lantern gets sucked in, despite his best efforts.

Which brings me to the long answer. Here’s the first of two chapters about how Jason’s harem actually appreciates him for more than just his sexy skills.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Part 4 - Read All Parts on AO3!!!

Words: 2085

Warnings: None

Nothing explicit in this chapter. Just softness.

_____________________________________________

Kyle racks up a startling number of favors owed in a startlingly short amount of time.

If he’s honest with himself–which he generally tries to avoid on principle; if you can’t lie to yourself, what’s the point?–he might be more interested than he likes to let on. But he assures himself over and over that he’s not doing anything that everyone else isn’t doing.

Hell, even Hal is hooking up with Jason.

Though… Kyle doesn’t think Jason is purposefully trying to give Wayne a heart attack, he’s just doing what he needs and wants to do. But Kyle is positive Hal is definitely fucking with Batman as much as he fucking Jason. Kyle would bet his tiny apartment on the fact that at least 25% of the attraction for his predecessor is sticking it to the Bat.

Alright… maybe Jason does get a little joy out of Wayne’s discomfort.

That said, no matter what he tells himself, Kyle is all too aware of the fact that Jason gets something out of every rendezvous.

Except the ones with him.

They both know the favors were just an excuse, even if neither of them would admit it.

It takes months before Jason finally starts calling them in. And when he does it’s in small ways.

Requests for backup are expected when they come.

But then Jason uses one to ask Kyle to pick up take out from Jason’s favorite hole in the wall in Hong Kong “on his way over”.

He uses another just to get to see Oa–the Guardians were not thrilled to have a “tourist”–and Kyle found it was actually enjoyable showing Jason around. He was amused and a pleasantly surprised when Jason hit it off easily with Kilowag. Far less surprised (and far less amusing) when they visited Guy and Arkillo and it was like the three of them had known each other for years.

Of all the little things Jason uses his favors for, Kyle’s favorites are the massages. They almost always lead to more and it hasn’t escaped Kyle’s attention that when they do, Jason doesn’t count it.

Even when it doesn’t lead to a round of increasingly… affectionate sex, he still gets to work pleasantly scented oil into the astounding number of giant knots plaguing the rippling muscle under Jason’s warm, scarred skin.

Both scenarios usually end the same way too. With Jason dozing off and snuggling close as Kyle uses his ring to get the lights.

He’s reasonably certain that none of Jason’s other arrangements get to stay the night.

They’re both intelligent, capable men. They know what this is. What it’s become. What it could morph into.

But Kyle’s too stubborn to voice it and Jason is too, even if he wasn’t cripplingly insecure about shit like this.

Still, it hadn’t really hit him how bad he has it until now. Until he slowly crawled out of bed, careful not to wake the other man, showered, and exits the bathroom to what he can only describe as an ethereal view.

Jason is laying on his front, arms tucked under the pillow, breathing slowly and evenly. His mouth is slightly opened, a small dark spot on the pillowcase where he’s drooled a little. The sunlight pours into the room between the opened slats of the blinds. One band illuminates the mop of wild black curls, making the thinner edges glow golden like a halo. Several more stretch across the width of his broad shoulders, his rib-cage, his tapered waist. The soft cotton sheet has slid low, sitting atop the perfectly rounded rise of Jason’s butt, the sea-green edge perfectly angled with the blade of light. The last one shines warm and orange over his toes, peeking out from under the soft cotton sheet.

Sketching is like breathing to Kyle. He’ll doodle on napkins or receipts, anything with a little space, of anything with a little beauty.

He doesn’t pay much attention to the paper he swipes from Jason’s open file folder. Just enough to note that there was nothing on the back.

That’s how he finds himself drawing Jason while he sleeps. Painstakingly smoothing over the line for the arch of Jason’s spine, the curve of his ass. Lovingly capturing the shape of his lips, the thick, dark fan of his eyelashes.

It’s while he carefully adds every scar from memory that Kyle realizes just how deep he’s gone.

His hand goes still and he glances up to Jason’s face with the surprise of the sudden understanding.

Then he jumps so hard he drags the pencil through the drawing.

Jason is laying there awake, bright eyes watching but otherwise still as he was when Kyle started.

“Jesus,” Kyle hisses, trying to collect himself. “Scared me half to death. How long have you been awake?”

Not very long if the soft, groggy smile Jason gives him is any indication.

“Just a couple of minutes,” Jason answers, voice husky from sleep (and the way Kyle made him scream last night).

Kyle cringes internally. A couple of minutes is a long freaking time to not notice.

“You had your focused face on,” Jason continues, shifting a little to stretch like a cat. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“My what now?”

Jason turns onto his side, clearly in no rush to get out of bed, and smirks at him.

“When you’re really into what you’re doing, your brow pinches and you either chew your lip or, honest to god, stick your tongue out. It’s cute.”

Kyle scowls. “Puppies are cute. I’m a badass, space cop.”

With a snort, Jason sits up against the headboard and runs his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you say, officer.”

And fuck if that doesn’t give Kyle all kinds of ideas.

“What were you doing?” Jason asks, attention trained down at the book Kyle was using as a hard surface.

“Uh… nothing.” He tries to think of how he can hide it from the other man. Even to an untrained eye, the emotion in it is obvious. And Jason knows a surprising amount about art. Kyle would much rather never become more than this than risk losing what they have.

Jason’s smirk turns mischievous and there’s an amused glint in his eyes. “Drawing me like one of your French girls?"

The little huff of laughter Kyle manages does nothing to hide the rapid shot of color to his cheeks. His "no” is weak and unconvincing.

“Well, come on, Rayner. Let me see?”

Kyle’s breath freezes in his chest and he hesitates, clutching the sheet of cheep printer paper closer to him.

“Dude, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Jason taunts.

It’s not bad at all. That’s the problem.

It might be the best thing Kyle’s ever drawn.

He swallows hard and braces himself. Then gets up and sits on the edge of the bed as he hands it over.

Watching the smile slip from Jason’s face feels like getting punched in the gut.

It’s over now. Kyle got too serious. The Pit left Jason with something he can’t fully control and he doesn’t want or need a partner. It doesn’t matter that Kyle would understand that Jason would still have to… do what he does. It doesn’t matter because the last thing Jason needs is some useless serious relationship cramping his style.

“Is… is this supposed to be me?"

The question surprises Kyle. Because it’s painfully obvious that the portrait is of Jason, down to the almost unnoticeable freckles across his nose and cheekbones. And the question is asked so timidly as Jason stares down at the sheet with wide eyes. Not an ounce of recognition.

"I couldn’t have made it more obviously you if it was a photo,” Kyle says lightly, hoping head off the worst of things.

But Jason stares for long moments, expression confused, until finally he pulls his eyes away to look up at Kyle.

“But I… I don’t look like this.”

Kyle blinks at him. “What? I mean… you don’t have a big, dark pencil line through you but–”

“No… I mean… this is… this is so…” He huffs. “It’s too… pretty. Didn’t really think you were the type to romanticize the subject. Sure you didn’t have Dickface on the mind?”

It’s defensive. Using humor to armor himself. Kyle can practically see the walls going up in Jason’s mind as he tries to rationalize things. As he tries to make what he’s seeing on the paper–what Kyle sees–fit with his own idea of himself.

Leaning in, Kyle takes Jason’s chin in one hand and pushes the book with the sheet of paper down to Jason’s lap while forcing Jason to look up at him.

“This is you, Jason. Every scar, every freckle, every bruise from last night. Just you. No one else.”

“But…”

“No. It’s beautiful because you’re beautiful,” Kyle says gently. Then he smirks. “And because I’m really talented. But I promise. That’s exactly what you look like.”

“To you maybe,” he grumbles, trying to turn away.

Kyle tightens his grip and gives a little tug to get Jason meet his eyes again.

“Yes. To me."

Jason’s eyes widen and he stops breathing.

"I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, Jason, but you’re objectively attractive,” Kyle continues. He looks into those vivid aquamarine irises and where once he would have bristled, felt the urge to challenge and compete, he softens. “And to me… you’re perfect.”

The room is deathly quiet. It seems like neither of them are even breathing.

Eventually Jason gulps and looks back down at the drawing.

Kyle glares at the headboard, kicking himself for letting things get this far; for having to come clean about his feelings; for putting Jason (and himself) in this awkward position. For letting their friends-with-benefits agreement slide into murkier waters. A lifetime ago, when he did have a stupid, ill-advised, youthful crush on Batman, he promised himself he’d never actually fall for any Bat. They were all bad news in one way or another.

So of course it’d be the asshole black sheep of the family, the biggest bad news of the bunch (except for maybe the punk kid who’s Robin now), who he’s going to have to get over.

An indignant noise from below him draws his attention back to Jason.

Jason who is glaring up at him.

Kyle shrugs and splays his palms open in surrender. “What?”

The drawing gets shoved in his face. Only it’s not the drawing. Its the other side. The side emblazoned with the Coast City Police Department logo.

“You drew on my police report, asshole!”

He searches Jason’s face. The younger man isn’t kicking him out; isn’t telling him off. Hell, Jason isn’t even asking that they just keep things casual. Kyle knows he can be clueless about this kind of stuff (Jason honestly believes Ra’s is only interest in him is the sex) but there was obvious understanding in that gemstone gaze when Kyle spilled his heart.

“Those aren’t supposed to leave the precinct. You shouldn’t even have it,” Kyle retorts.

Jason rolls his eyes so hard Kyle’s surprised they stay in his head. “No shit dumbass, that’s why I have to sneak it back in!”

Trying–and failing–to stop the smile tugging at his lips, Kyle says “Oh… whoops” and goes to shift back, put a little more space between them. But Jason’s hand snaps out and the next thing he knows he’s flat on his back with Jason towering over him, those fucking thighs straddling his hips

“Don’t worry,” Jason practically purrs, “you can make it up to me.”

“Oh no. What a great inconvenience,” Kyle smirks as Jason leans close.

The kiss is softer than usual. Less desperate; less demanding; less competitive.

“And then?” He whispers it against Jason’s lips when they part to get some air. He can’t help it. He has to know.

Jason hums and mouths at the pulse point in Kyle’s throat.

“And then I’ll be hungry so you can take me to breakfast.”

He swallows hard against that talented tongue and the pointed roll of Jason’s hips against his groin.

“A favor?” he asks, hardly daring to hope.

Jason kisses his mouth again before answering, cheeks bright red and eyes averted. “A date… if you want.”

Kyle threads his fingers into the curls that stick up every which way and when he pulls Jason into the next kiss, it’s got all the desperation of the ones before and then some.

“I want.”

#Jason Todd #Kyle Rayner #JayKyle #jason/justice league #I have to find a better tag for this stuff #fluffy #Anonymous

155 notes · View notes

the-uninformed-zennial · 3 years

Text

Dick’s Apartment Chapter 2: Bruce

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28088298/chapters/68953245#workskin

Introduction:

The day following Jason’s death had gone by so quickly, Bruce didn’t know what had happened, not really anyway. All he could see was Robin, Jason, his son, so bloody and bruised and broken. He was almost unrecognizable. Almost. But Bruce knew, he had seen that smiling face far too many times to not know. Jason was gone. He was gone and it was Bruce’s fault. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. He didn’t know where he was. Somewhere in the city, definitely not Gotham. The next thing he knew, he was looking down at Dick, sleeping peacefully in his bed, just like he used to on long nights after patrol. Dick who had been in countless situations just like the one that got his broth… that got Jason, killed. Was he even real? Was any of this real?

Dick

“Dick.”

His name, someone was calling his name. Breath flooded Dick’s lungs and he opened his eyes, jumping back at the sight in front of him. Batman...er, Bruce in the lightest layer of the batman suit, leaning only a few inches away from his face.

“Bruce?” His brain could not process… why was Bruce in his apartment? What time was it?

“Jason...” Bruce’s lower lip started to quiver. It never quivered. Something was very, very wrong.

“Bruce, I’m Dick, not Jason.” Definitely something wrong with his brain. Maybe a new strain of fear toxin? But then why would he be here and not the cave? And where was Jason anyway? Weren’t the two of them supposed to be in Africa or something?

“No, Jason, he’s…” Tears actually started flowing down Bruce’s face. Dick had never seen Bruce cry, not even once. This wasn’t fear toxin, this was real. That could only mean one thing… no. No, Jason couldn’t be.

“Bruce, where’s Jason?” Despite how much he tried to keep it steady, his voice still shook at the name, his brother’s name.

“Gone.”

Gone. The unspoken word followed without pause. Dead. Taken from the world, never to be seen again. Jason. His brother. He couldn’t… he couldn’t do this. First his parents, now his brother? The brother he had just started to get to know. The brother who relentlessly teased him about every little thing. The brother who always wore that baggy red hoodie no matter what the temperature was like outside. The brother he would never see smile again.

Unbidden tears started to flow down his face. He stared at a blank space on the wall in front of him and tried to slow his breathing. It helped, a little. As soon as the world slowed down it’s spinning he turned to look at Bruce, who was now kneeling on the floor next to Dick’s bed, with his head in his arms. He’d gone catatonic. Dick had only ever seen him this way once before, when affected by one of scarecrow’s fear toxins he had yet to build an immunity to. He and Alfred had been able to calm him down, but only after they had shot him with an extra dose of antitoxin and Dick accidentally caught a punch with his face. But this time was different, there wasn’t a cure for this because it wasn’t drug induced. Jason was really gone, and Bruce was going to snap, if he hadn’t already.

Dick cautiously reached out to touch Bruce’s arm. His head snapped up instantly, and it took everything in Dick’s power to not reach for the knife concealed right behind his nightstand. That is, until he looked in Bruce’s eyes. The man couldn’t stop crying. He was broken. Bruce reached up to touch Dick’s face, and after initially pulling back, Dick eventually leaned forward and let his former guardian touch him.

“It’s okay Bruce.” he cooed, trying to keep his tone steady, “I’m still here.”

That must’ve sunk in, because Bruce started to take some deep breaths, calming himself down, just like he taught Dick to do in emergency situations. Pretty soon, he was able to stand up on his own. At which point he kind of awkwardly leaned against the wall in the bedroom. Dick took the chance to glance down at his clock, 3:00 AM. Well, there went any hope he had for sleep before work in the morning. He grudgingly climbed off the end of his bed, so as to not disturb Bruce, and shuffled his way into the kitchen. Coffee. He needed coffee, and maybe a drink. Bruce probably did too.

“I-I should go.” Bruce mumbled, from his position in the bedroom.

“No way.” Dick said, a lot more coherently than he felt, “You don’t get to break into my apartment and wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me terrible news with no explanation and then ditch me after having a come-apart on my bedroom floor. Not gonna happen. So, do you want coffee or bourbon or both?”

Bruce just grunted and made his way over to the small, cluttered table that was the closest thing to a dining room Dick had in his tiny apartment. The two of them just stood there in silence for a few minutes while the water got heated. Jason, dead. That couldn’t be possible. He’d just seen him like, what, a week ago? He had just helped dismantle a drug ring that was terrorizing the city, most of the guys hadn’t even been prosecuted yet. How could he be gone? Dick didn’t notice the stray tear falling down his face until the coffee pot started making that screeching noise that indicated it was almost done. He wiped it off his face before getting down two mugs and pulling the milk and sugar from his fridge.

Bruce always said he liked his coffee black, but Dick knew that he secretly preferred a small splash of milk to dull some of the coffee’s sharper tastes. He poured the black liquid into the two cups then took down the bourbon and splashed a bit in as well. This was going to be a long night (morning?), whatever.

“Here.” The force with which Dick set the mug on the table made a little of the hot liquid splash onto some stray papers.

Bruce stayed leaning up against the wall, looking at the open window like a bird, or a bat, ready to take flight.

“Sit down and tell me what happened.”

Bruce simply glared at him.

“Bruce,” Dick chided, “how did he… what went wrong?”

Bruce still stood aloof next to the window, but decided to reach for the coffee and took a sip.

“If you aren’t here to talk, why did you come?”

He put the mug down, “I need you to stop.”

Dick raised his eyebrows in confusion, “Stop what?”

“Nightwing.”

Dick’s jaw clenched automatically. His head shook a little with the effort it took to contain his ever amounting rage. Hadn’t they already had this conversation before? Didn’t Bruce remember where this conversation got them last time?

“Will you ever stop...” he began, but couldn’t finish. Treating me like a child ...or... being batman … Dick couldn’t decide which would be the more fitting end to the question. Somehow, Bruce knew exactly what he meant. The answer to both questions forming in his mind was answered in a simple,

“No.”

The rest of the morning was spent in relative silence. Bruce had made it fairly clear that he would not tell Dick about what had happened with Jason, and Dick was honestly too tired to press. He figured he’d just hack into the batcomputer next chance he got and find out what happened for himself. Bruce would eventually need to answer his questions, but Dick figured they could remain unanswered until Bruce got his head back on straight. Besides, his mind was too full of all the memories and emotion that he didn’t think he would really hear Bruce even if he did explain himself.

Fifteen minutes until five and Dick finally broke the silence, “Look, I have a meeting with the Titans in a couple minutes and you need some sleep. There are some sheets in the nightstand by my bed and the couch is pretty comfortable, so crash there if you need to.”

Bruce lifted his head up in slight acknowledgement of what Dick had said, but quickly regained his brooding stature. Standing there in the dim morning light he looked more like a gargoyle than a real person. For once, Dick thought he could understand why Bruce chose to name himself after a bat, the two creatures shared an eerie similarity; the natural ability to strike terror into the heart of a bystander.

Dick eventually left to go get ready for his meeting. By the time he came out of the bathroom, he found that Bruce had pulled the sheets out of the drawer and laid them on the sofa. He also noticed half of his bottle of bourbon was gone. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Bruce drink. What could have gone so wrong? But there was no time to pry answers out of the stubborn bat, they would just have to wait.

So as Dick turned to leave for the day he looked at Bruce for just a moment and said, “I expect you’ll be ready to actually talk to me when I return.”

With that, he left.

---

Dick came back to an empty apartment. It looked exactly as he had left it, not a trace of Bruce anywhere, save the unlocked window and the empty bottle of bourbon in the trash. Dick could almost pretend it was a dream, just another bad nightmare. But deep down he knew Bruce had told the truth. Jason was dead.

The weight of it all slammed into him at once, and he found himself crouched on the ground gasping for air through tear soaked sobs. Jason was dead. He couldn’t move, so he didn’t. Dick stayed there, frozen on the ground, paralyzed in sadness until dawn rose to greet him once more.

Notes:

This takes place in a slightly altered version of canon where Dick wasn’t off-world at the time of Jason’s death. However, I tried my best to make it so that the events of New Titans #55 could still make sense (with a few minor adjustments), because I think the way they wrote it was actually pretty well done.

#batfam #batboys #batman and robin #jasontodddied #aftermathofdeath #nightwing #batman #dickgrayson #bruce wayne #bruce wayne is a bad parent #dc comics #dc fanfic #batman fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3 author #fanfic

3 notes · View notes

shewhowillnotbenamed1 · 4 years

Text

Atrium - Part Two

Part two of the Library AU for @mistkissedmoon

Part one

————–

Jason walked under the pyramid skylights in the atrium. There was a warm glow filtering in through the large windows on the ceiling. It touched each aisle, filling the rich mahogany bookshelves in turn with sunlight. Funny. It often seemed as though rays of light could only travel through muted grey clouds. Where the library and the manor were concerned. And much of Gotham.

But now, it was radiant. The place hadn’t gotten as much foot traffic or attention in recent years. Though since Raven had come around, it already looked brighter. Alive, even.

It moved him to see the place like this. She had done a fantastic job so far. Jason knew that there was something about her. He could tell from the first time he looked at her that she had come to Wayne Manor with a purpose. Despite the initial mishap about what that purpose entailed, he knew he was right.

Oh.

Speak of the she-devil and she might appear.

Jason could see the slim contour of her body. It was bent toward the desk by the fireplace in the front of the room. Thick, black framed glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose. Fair fingers twining the cord of the old rotary phone as she spoke. She nodded, no doubt, agreeing with the words uttered by the party on the other line. Her profile turned. She was facing him as she replaced the filigree gold and white handset on the switch hook. Scribbling something down quickly. Rachel tapped her cheek twice with the arm of the glasses, before setting them down on the desk.

Black kitten heels echoed through the lofty space, as she drifted over to him. In her black button-down and dark wash denim, she was every bit the picture of casual meets sexy-sophisticated. “Jason.” She had at last dropped the formalities with him. This was something he was increasingly grateful for. Rachel extended an arm with a bag in hand. “Here, for all your efforts.”

“Well, what’s this?” He asked. His fingers furled with deviousness, as he peered into the paper bag peace-offering. Appearing much more enthusiastic, than he should have been, for whatever she handing him. “Looks like I’m getting my compensation in the form of -” He paused. “Is it a severed head? From one of those useless volunteers?”

And surprising him once more, she actually let out a little laugh. “It’s actually lunch. My lunch.” He motioned for her to elaborate, his face split into its usual grin. “Well, Jason. I was wondering if you would split a sandwich with me.”

The grin faltered.

Another fragment of the veneer that kept him concealed, chipped away. There was a surprising amount of vulnerability in that simple request. And in Rachel that moment. She was just a girl standing before a boy asking him if he would… split a sandwich with her. That was it. Yet, he found himself dumbfounded - unable to speak. And it was crazy. It was crazy that a simple request would render him speechless. That he was nearly incapacitated by a single utterance from her. He cleared his throat and repeated her question. “A sandwich - you want me to have your… sandwich?”

Rachel stared honestly and earnestly into Jason’s uncertain and uneasy blue. “Yes…” She nodded. “I get it - Alfred’s food is legendary. Even I know this, with my limited experience with his repertoire… But, I hoped you might still consider it.”

Jason shook his head immediately. “No - no - I… it’s not -” He paused. Then, he tried once more. “Rachel, I would love to share your sandwich.”

The two of them found themselves seated on the hard ground beneath the dark wooden bookcases. Their bodies leaned back on long ladders. Such ladders were normally used for ascending to higher learning. Which, of course, one could take quite literally. After all, wasn’t that the supposed purpose of a library? To allow one to obtain things that appeared out of reach - to make them out of reach no longer.

Maybe this was why it was there they sat. To eat two halves of a pastrami sandwich out of a paper bag.

Jason didn’t mind sitting on the floor at all. He had found it difficult to notice anything aside from the girl next to him, and the richness of the meal she was sharing with him. If Rachel was experiencing discomfort, she hadn’t felt the need to mention it either.

Yet, just across the way from where Rachel had come, was the desk. Not far from it, a ring of comfortable leather chairs situated near the grandfather clock. But, this seemed more fitting. Jason couldn’t shelf certain thoughts in his head. About how normal this seemed. The two of them at ease with one another like this, in one of his favorite rooms in the manor.

“Here…” She fished into the wax paper, and passed him one of the two halves of pickle. “Cheers.” Rachel touched hers to his, a little laughter in the depth of her indigo eyes, and she took a big bite.

Jason took a little bite of his own. “This was, uh, really good, Rachel…” He swallowed.

“Don’t mention it.” She licked the juice from her lips slowly. Unconsciously, his pupils traced her pink tongue.

“I’ve never had a sandwich like this one.” Jason told her. It was true - in some ways more than others. “Did you make it?” He asked her curiously. He was trying not to appear as though he was prying. But he was.

He definitely was.

“That’s because it’s special.” She tilted her head towards him. He could see her loosening up. Her left arm looped through a rung on the ladder. “And no, I bought it. I get these sandwiches from a little store.” The purple-haired girl took another bite of the vert, vinegared vegetable between her fingers. “This hole in the wall Jewish deli my mother used to bring me to when I was young. She’s Jewish.” Rachel’s throat moved as she gulped down a piece. “Every time I need a little pick-me-up, I stop there.” She gestured with the remaining piece of pickle. “Sometimes, I miss it… Those easier times.”

The entire time she spoke, Jason listened to her with rapt attention. For a split second, he stared off into nought. He hadn’t known any of that. Or much of anything about Rachel, really. He hadn’t asked. Until now, he hadn’t asked. But, he knew - he wanted to ask. He wanted to know her. If she was willing, he wanted to know her. But - one thing in particular stood out to him. “Why would you need a pick-me-up?” Rachel stared at the half-eaten pickle in her hand. She took a few thoughtful bites. And chewed it slowly and finished it. “Rachel?”

She turned to him, a somber half smile on her face. “I don’t… know what I’m doing, Jason.”

“What are you talking about, Rachel?” He shook his head. Rachel was the best thing that ever happened to this library. And the single best thing he had seen walk through the manor doors in a long while. She didn’t even know. “That makes no sense to me.”

“Correction - I meant - at all. I don’t know what I’m doing at all…” Rachel sipped from a water bottle, shaking her head slowly. “I mean look around. I can barely find my way around most days and I’m supposed to be the head of the project…” Her voice lowered to a murmur that he could just make out. He slid his own ladder closer, he didn’t want to miss it. “This place, this library - it’s the most amazing private library I’ve ever been in.” Her arms widened to denote its vastness. “It’s been my dream to do a project of this scale. But, this is Wayne Manor - I think I’m in over my head.”

“That's it, Roth.” Jason said seriously and then, he stood up. He dusted himself off and waited. When she didn’t join him, he gave her a quizzical stare. Still seated, she gawked up at him. He tapped his foot, impatiently. “Come on.”

“Come on? Come on, where?” Rachel sounded skeptical. He held out a hand. She lingered for 3 seconds, before she took it. And he gently pulled her to standing, her ponytail fluid with motion; Rachel was within inches of his lips. He followed her line of sight to his mouth. Their warm breath mingled for several moments. Rachel broke first. And she glanced off in the distance, blinking to refocus her gaze. Her other hand slid slowly down his bicep. After a second, his arm reluctantly released her waist. Jason grasped her hand tighter, his fingers weaving tightly into hers.

“I… want to show you something.” He explained.

“Okay…?” She agreed. Though he could tell by the twinkle of mirth in her eyes, that she was more than curious.

“So let’s go - right now.” Without any more warning, he broke into a run. His long legs forced her to sprint along behind him. As he ran, he marveled at his surroundings. Rachel was right, even though he grew up here, the place was truly massive. Like a maze almost. With multiple floors and multiple wings. It had several staircases in each wing and on opposite sides of the atrium.

But its size allowed it to contain its fair share of secrets.

Including his own.

After running for a couple of minutes, darting around shelves, around lamps, and dodging boxes and a book cart, she finally called over the wind in their ears. “Jason, where are we going?” Finally, after two more lefts, he stopped. They were both panting, but he was excited. To show her. “W-what… is this?” They stood before what looked like a large wooden cupboard or pantry.

“You’ll see, Rachel.” He said in lieu of an explanation. “I want to see if I can still get in; it’s been a little while.” He dropped her hand to finger the outside of the cupboard. “Ah!” He exclaimed, as he pried it open. The door opened with a creak. It wasn’t a cupboard at all, it looked like something else entirely. There were pulleys and cables. A small platform. It was large enough to crawl into. It looked like a miniature lift, but not quite.

Rachel was confused, as she watched. “Jason… what is it? I don’t -”

“Shh… it’s a library…” He put a finger to her lips. “And this… is a secret.”

——————-

He stroked a path down her mouth, before he let his fingers fall off the slope of her chin. They silently took each other in for several moments, before he turned back towards the dark, half-sized room.

“It’s my little hideaway - from when I was first taken in as a kid…” Jason offered. “It’s a dumbwaiter - for servants to leave food for anyone in here. All so they could eat without ever having to leave.” Rachel slowly nodded, taking the contraption in, as she peered inside. “I think over the years, it’s been forgotten…” He had never told anyone about this before. But, he was telling Rachel. “I used to have hidden spots all over the manor and all over this place. But this one, was my favorite…” He smirked. “No one ever thought to check the library for a scoundrel like me.” He snorted.

Rachel smiled. She watched him closely before she asked a question. “Why was it your favorite?”

“I liked getting lost in here - in the library.” He shrugged, his feet shuffling. “I would get lost in here for hours reading or thinking… When I was feeling unsure, or like I didn’t belong, I would come here… I’m still glad for it, this place taught me a lot.”

“What… did it teach you?” Her face mystified and awed by his confession.

“Many things. But mostly, that I was wrong.” Jason admitted. “I didn’t need to be in some hole in the wall. I did belong - I was exactly where I was supposed to be.” Jason faced her, his hand on her own. “And so are you.”

She glanced at the dumbwaiter, processing this. Her face angled back toward the ground, before she came up, with a wistful stare.

“I don’t want to say… I get it or I understand… As no one ever quite can - get it - I mean.” Rachel tried. She licked her lips. Rachel hesitantly reached up and skimmed his face with her index and middle fingers.

“Yeah… Tell me about it. Everyone says that, but the truth is, they really don’t.” Jason nodded, he was grateful for this. He was glad that she wasn’t one for generic replies, especially to his admission. But truly, if anyone could grasp what he was saying, he felt she would.

“What I didn’t say before was, well… was.” Jason waited patiently for her to elaborate. “My mother… She was Jewish. "I lost my parents - too…” Oh. He felt a turning in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t hesitate and he pulled her close. Rachel froze, before she settled into his arms.

When he let her go, she spoke again. “Going to get a pastrami sandwich with her, is one of the last true, dependable memories I have of her.” Rachel’s voice wavered. But then, after a moment, it sounded full of something akin to hope. Or was it acceptance? “It’s almost like it gives me guidance, or answers to questions I can’t ask her… It… fills something inside me. More than an ordinary meal does.”

“Food for the soul.” Jason agreed. She did understand… She really did. He knew it as he saw Rachel’s deep sparkling eyes search his.

“But, like you, I found family in unexpected places… It’s so much more than blood ties, isn’t it?” She gave him a soft smile.

“Yes.” Jason thought of Bruce. His brothers. Alfred. Ace. Though it had seemed unlikely at first. And they were the oddest bunch of misfits he knew. They were a family. What they had become and why they had become it, was mixed up in the wonderful and the terrible. But, he wouldn’t trade for anything. “It’s whatever or whomever you need it to be.”

“And that’s what matters.” She finished. He couldn’t have said it better.

“Yes. Yes it is.” She knew what it was like to lose family. How he must have never felt quite right or the same, until he found his place, his people. And if he hadn’t known then, he knew now, how a sandwich could satisfy a different kind of craving. As that meal had sated him in immeasurable ways. It had filled the cracks and fractures inside him in ways no meal before it had managed to. It was his heart that felt sated.

“Thank you for showing me this, Jason.” Her words were measured and careful. But, he could tell that this talk had invigorated her, especially when she said, quietly, “I think I needed that.”

“And thank you - for lunch.” Jason clarified. “That really was some sandwich…” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head. They walked slowly. Ambling around the shelves listlessly. Neither ready to leave each other’s side just yet.

She shifted a lock of hair away from her face. “I told you it was special.” Rachel brushed his shoulder and blushed, when she realized what she was touching him with such ease.

“No, it’s not.” Jason told her. And he could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t getting it. Or maybe she had yet to figure it out. “It’s not the sandwich, Rachel.” His low voice speaking as he moved closer, the corners of his lips turned up. “It was never the sandwich that was special.”

#jayrae #raex #redrae #jason todd #red hood #raven roth #me #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #au #libraryau #request #raven #ravendc #red x #Part 3 is happening!!!!

76 notes · View notes

mobius-prime · 4 years

Text

270. Sonic Universe #3

The Shadow Saga (Part 3 of 4): Old Soldiers

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Jason Jensen

So it appears that despite this being the morning of the final battle against his arch-nemesis, Eggman has suddenly become very preoccupied with the fact that Gamma rebelled against him over a year ago. We've not heard anything from Gamma in all this time, but apparently ever since it left the Egg Carrier during the Sonic Adventure arc it's been traveling the world, fulfilling its mission from the game to "rescue" (read: murder) all of its brothers, and expanding out from there into attacking various bases belonging to Eggman. Commander Tower back at the GUN base explains all this to Shadow and Rouge, requesting that Shadow track it down and find a way to ally with it, as it's so far refused to actually ally itself with any of the global Freedom Fighter chapters despite sharing a similar goal. At the same time, we finally see who Eggman is explaining his side of the story to: Omega, of course! It seems that Omega was built not long after Gamma was, but has been stuck in storage ever since, and is not very happy about it.

Oh, come on Shadow! That iteration of Metal Sonic existed for a grand total of like, three hours! Even a robot isn't about to change its mind about the purpose of life in such a short amount of time. As Shadow boards the helicopter that will take him to his destination, Eggman watches Omega depart while Snively informs him that the Dark Egg Legion is ready to begin the final battle against the Freedom Fighters. A few hours later, they're over the drop zone, and Shadow straight up leaps out of the helicopter without a parachute like an absolute madlad, because apparently if you're the ultimate lifeform you don't need silly things such as life-saving safety equipment. He notices tracks in the snow, and soon finds himself face to face with Gamma, who is uncertain about his presence here.

This is honestly fascinating and great, because in no other canon do these two ever actually meet. It's interesting to see how they interact with each other, given their histories and past affiliations. However, no sooner have they agreed to work together than Gamma detects another robotic presence, this one broadcasting Eggman's signal. Sure enough, Omega bursts out of the treeline behind them, guns blazing and ready to murder them both. It's excited about the chance to face off against Shadow, which it considers an even greater test of its abilities than Sonic, and is perfectly happy to annihilate Gamma as well while it's at it. Shadow tries to cover Gamma's retreat to the extraction point, but Omega isn't having any of that.

I don't know why, but the mental image of Shadow wedging himself into Omega's gun arm with a loud "THOOMP" sound effect is incredibly amusing to me, more than any other sound effect in this entire comic so far. Gamma hides from Omega while Omega does its best attempt at a villain monologue, going on about how outdated and poorly-maintained Gamma is and how its firepower can't match up to Omega's own. Gamma retorts from cover that Omega is unwieldy with its size and weight, that it's very loud and can't cover ground as easily as Gamma can, and this is because ultimately, Omega is a walking arsenal while Gamma is an assassin, proving its point by sniping Omega with several potshots. Omega concedes the point, but Gamma, as it turns out, actually isn't looking to win this fight at all.

Fun fact, by the way - in this issue Omega is portrayed as being massive, far taller and larger than Gamma, and yet it's exactly the opposite in the games. The difference between their official heights in the games is actually hilariously dramatic - Gamma is a whopping 7'1" or 215cm, while Omega is a paltry 4'11" or 150cm. This seems absolutely absurd, but if you look at their character models when compared to other characters in their respective games, it's totally accurate - Gamma stands taller than Eggman, who is already 6'1" or 185cm, while Omega is shown to be not actually that much taller than Shadow or Rouge when standing next to them. That said, Omega actually weighs far more, so Gamma's assessment of its abilities is pretty accurate in this issue.

Anyway, Omega unleashes a deadly barrage of ammo on Gamma, just as Gamma announces that it's completed an "upload." All that's left of Gamma after the blast is a smoking crater, with the Flicky bird that's served as its soul all this time flying away happily, finally free of its metal prison. Shadow arrives just in time to see it all happen, and is horrified at his failure to protect Gamma, but then Omega starts freaking the hell out, yelling about a virus in its systems. The voice of Gamma speaks through Omega's body, revealing that it uploaded the portions of its code pertaining to free will into Omega. Their two personalities merge into a new being, a fully sentient one that's capable of feeling emotions, though it's still largely based on Omega's original personality. Omega is confused, not knowing how to handle suddenly going from an "it" to a "he" with a personality and feelings, so Shadow offers him the same deal he offered to Gamma before.

Omega, much like Blaze, has a pretty different personality from his counterpart in the games. Not completely unrelated, of course, but compared to game Omega's fairly composed personality, focusing more on consistent barrages of firepower and occasionally bragging about its abilities but also having the capacity for deeper, more emotional thought (such as its chat with Rouge at the end of the Team Dark story in Heroes), comic Omega is a bloodthirsty, murder-happy killing machine who practically worships fire and death. It's also worth noting that Ian has actually been wanting to introduce Omega into the world of the comics for years before this point, with Sega shooting him down for whatever reason several times. While I do love Omega from the games, Omega in the comics is known for how absolutely hilariously over the top he is, and truth be told it's probably my preferred characterization for him. Case in point, after Omega helps Shadow construct a small grave marker out of stones for Gamma, he threatens Shadow with maiming and death if he ever tells anyone else about his moment of emotional weakness. Once they get back to GUN's headquarters, Hope enthuses about her discoveries about Omega's construction while Rouge listens attentively and Shadow mopes. He blames himself for not being able to save another living weapon, even though he… kind of did? I mean, after all, while Gamma as a fully actualized personality no longer exists, the parts of it that made it sentient still do, and it willingly accepted its fate, so it's not like Shadow is some giant failure here. Hope then informs Shadow and Rouge of their next assignment, which cheers him up somewhat - she's finished recalibrating her teleporter, meaning they're about to take a trip into the Special Zone in search of another Chaos Emerald!

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #su 3 #writer: ian flynn #pencils: tracy yardley #colors: jason jensen

8 notes · View notes

kingdommad300 · 4 years

Text

KH DnD: Between Dawn to Dusk Aithne’s Report

Warning!!!

For my current DnD players, until you find out more details in-game. Please do not read this. This is for those that following the campaign through this blog and for the player of Aithne.

Aithne gasps as she finds herself in The Dark Realm. She feels a dense pressure in the atmosphere, mainly on her heart. As if on instinct, she told the current cloak off and put her own, holey one back on, feeling the dense pressure disappear, making it easier to breathe. Vanitas remarks that she at least remembered one thing. Aithne asked him why they had come to the Realm of Darkness, only for Vanitas to tell her to wait and see.

After walking for a while and feeling the Heartless from the sidelines watch them, Vanitas shows Aithne a ruined town, half swallowed by the darkness while traces of burns on the buildings. As Aithne walks through the ruins, she felt the sense of familiarity despite not knowing what this place is. When she questioned Vanitas, he explained that this was her home once. From what Aithne had told him in the past, the ruined town was called Dawn and she had peacefully lived here with her father and brother. She was a gifted magic user when she was young and had developed a way to create ‘blue fire’. One day, a keybearer saw Aithne’s gifts as signs of darkness and had attacked the town. Heartless ended up attracted to the burning town and had taken the remains of the building into the dark realm, leaving Aithne to be the only survivor.

She had started to survive on her own at the age of 8 and had come across Vanitas when she was 9. Since he had a keyblade, she tried to kill him off but failed miserably. Seeing her magic abilities as a useful tool, Vanitas decided to take her in as a student and taught her how to be a bounty hunter. Eventually, Aithne got ‘too cocky’ for her own good and decided to take up a job for the ‘Man in White’, which was the last time Vanitas saw her.

Vanitas gives Aithne the option on whether she should use her position to target Ventus and Kairi or decide to stick with him. Aithne questions why she should truly trust what he is saying. Vanitas goes on to explain a little more about the Corruption, explaining that because of Ventus and Kairi’s actions to try and bring Sora back, they ended up creating the Corruption, ending the lives of thousands and thousands over the last 3/4 of a decade. He goes on to explain that they seem to be trying to find a way to ‘cure’ the Corruption but nothing can cure it. You can become a monster or let the Corruption consume you to become someone else.

When Aithne mentions that both options seem back, Vanitas makes a comment that she just hasn’t seen both options yet. Aithne, who is holding her anger towards Ventus and Kairi in at this moment, asks if Ventus and Kairi were looking for him, since they seemed eager to look into the appearance of the Unverse. Vanitas explains, while taking his helmet off, that they needed him to prove their theories.

Aithne takes in the face, recognizing it before Vanitas puts his helmet back on.

Vanitas asks the same question again and Aithne decides to stick with him. With her mind made up, Vanitas begins to lead them out of the ruins. While walking, Aithne asked why she needed to put her old cloak on and why the Heartless was not bothering them. Vanitas explains that the cloak that she is wearing not only protects her from the darkness but according to the Heartless, she is darkness while wearing the cloak. It allows them to get through the Dark Realm without being bothered. She asked how long Vanitas was looking for her, which he response ‘a year’, and asked if he cared about her. Vanitas mentions that she is just a tool to him but she doesn’t fully believe him.

The two of them reach a small camp, seeing a mix of those affected by darkness, nothingness and the corrupted. Aithne did notice a few people with shadow like marks on their arms, similar to what Jason has. While going through the camp, they watched a rapid Corrupted humanoid, snatch the head off one of the head of the darkness controlled human and acted like a beast in their cage. While Aithne was horrified, Vanitas explains that those affected by the Corruption can become Rippers, the creature they see in front of them. They carry on and come across a large tent with a sign saying ‘The Cavern’. A bounty hunter guild.

Vanitas finds he lost his membership card, when Axton, the Nobody Doorman, explains no card, no entry! Aithne interrupts, explaining that it was her fault he lost his card. Persuded, Axton decided to let them in, saying to Aithne “welcome back”.

Aithne enters the guild to see it to mainly be a seedy like bar. As Vanitas seats down and talks to the barman, Aithne looks at the huge bounty board. Not sure what everything meant, she goes to take a seat next to Vanitas. She received a drink from a Heartless Orc called Bruce and gave him a stale cupcake in return.

As Vanitas handed his jobs in, he asks Aithne if she remembered anything before explaining to her the board that she was previously looking at. He explains that the bounty board is a ‘Keybearer Deadpool Board’. Bounty Hunters who put their name on the Keyblade Wielder who will be the last one to live on the board. They can only pick one wielder and they win a huge amount of munny for it but the catch is that other bounty hunters will go to kill them, as they are still marks, giving a sense of competition. After explaining, he tells Aithne to look again.

Aithne goes back over to the board but stops when she had put a wager on a keybearer to stay alive. She saw that she put a wager on Jason.

Before she could question why Jason was on the Deadpool Board, another bounty hunter comes into the room.

A short red haired guy, early 20′s, a bag of keyblades on his bag similar to Vanitas, his right arm a pure red shadow like claw shows off his cocky smile and sits next to Vanitas while giving Bruce his keyblades. Aithne watches the two for a second before coming over just as the guy asks Vanitas ‘why he should tell him anything.’ After explaining that she wanted to learn more about the ‘good’ side of corruption, the guy grinned at her and introduce himself as ‘Devon’, one of the newer bounty hunters in this guild. He shakes Aithne hand with his claw and Aithne decides to hold on a little longer, seeing his claw flare up slightly when she squeezed harder while she introduced herself.

After the introduce and the power play with the handshake, Devon explains a little more detail about the Corruption. Firstly explains that the corrupted is the tainted light within a person that can get blinded by their actions and let the light consume them, similar to how people can let darkness consume them. Secondly, he explains that the corruption has multiple stages to it, each being a test to the person affected and that the weak heart tend to fail quite quickly. First comes a voice, a voice that will target a weakness of the person’s identity (e.g. mention their fears, confidence, regrets, guilt ect.) He explains that if the person goes out of their way to prove the voice wrong, the voice will then send the person in a dream and ask them to accept what they will give them. If you say ‘No’, you die or become a Ripper. Says ‘Yes’ and become someone completely different.

When Aithne asked Devon what he meant, Devon asks for a drink as payment. After a bit of banter between the two of them, involving a agreement to trade information for information and Aithne explaining how she met Vanitas, Devon continues.

He explains a little about his background, telling her that he used to be a Keyblader Weilder under the Foretellers and that he was never able to meet his masters expectations and his angry issues affected his ability to work with the other weilders. When he first got Corrupted two years ago, the voice kept telling him that they were better off without him, playing on his anger and his lack of confidence. When he was near the blink of turning into a Ripper, he decided to face the music by standing up to the Foretellers and left the group. After some soul searching, Devon had managed to keep his anger and corruption under control now that the main issues were gone. When the voice send him to the dream and asked if he wanted its’ assistance, he had said ‘yes’ and didn’t look back. He explains to Aithne that he had gained a magic abilities from the corruption and felt more confident than ever, making him feel like a new person.

He eventually goes to ask a question to Aithne, asking if she knew anything about the Man in White, making Aithne curious. Vanitas jumps in at this point, telling Devon that the Man in White is off-limits and he should focus on the bounty board before telling Aithne that they were going.

Devon mentions that Aithne still owns him a questions and Aithne promises that the the next time they meet, he can ask whatever he wants and she will answer. She watches Devon talk to Bruce before she leaves the guild with Vanitas.

As they leave The Cavern, Vanitas creates another portal, telling Aithne they need to head to the safe house now to discuss a plan. Aithne nods in agreement and the two go through the portal.

After a moment, Aithne finds herself in the wasteland type area with keyblades scattered everywhere, even watching Vanitas swap some of the keyblades in his procession with the ones in the ground. As they carried on, they come across another cave with the same sort of sign at the front before the two of them entered.

Aithne saw on one side of the cave seem to have her belongings from before she left. She went over and found a bounty hunter log, a spell book and few pieces of equipment. While she is looking around, Vanitas explains that they need a plan for you to take Ventus and Kairi down. They first mention that the party would look for Phoenix feathers for Aerith and Kairi but both agreed that there was no guarantee that she will find the same Phoenix as the party’s due to them being a few. Vanitas then explained that different parties seem to be gathering crystal like orbs and decides that if they look for the crystals, they can introduce Aithne back to the group. Vanitas even creates an Unverse Fox called ‘Blink’ to be Aithne’s companion during her journey so that Vanitas can travel with her through the fox and that she can just hand the crystals to the fox.

Aithne agrees, but senses a problem, shes naturally bad at lying, so she needed to come up with a plan where she wasn't lying.. Vanitas gets an idea, he asked Aithne to walk out with him.. After a little while walking, Aithne notices that Vanitas stays behind a little, she turns around and he summons 5 Floods Unverse after her and Blink. Vanitas explains that he needs to see if she is ready anyway.

The Flood start to attack and surround Aithne and Blink and in a panic Athine casts Fireball point blank, creating a huge fiery blast, consuming the Flood at herself.

Everything goes Black… Aithne hears a voice “i thought you could be better”, her heart starts to lead to the place where sky and sea meet, finding some peace...Her heart gets caught though as she’s sucked back into the darkness, feeling cold and scared and alone. She gasps awake, noticing a figure over her with a keyblade pointed at her chest, a voice saying “the weak one’s awake”, Aithne notices with horror that her hair gone, her body burnt and a blue flame mark on her chest. Taking a moment to remember what is going on, Vanitas turns to Aithne and says “As your saviour, you will live for me. DO everything I tell you, got it?!”, Athine nods......suddenly remembering the feeling of dread from being with this twisted man.

#dnd shenanigans #DnD 5e #kingdom hearts dnd #dnd homebrew #dnd #vanitas #kingdom hearts 3 #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts spoilers

2 notes · View notes