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dxrknessexploredarchived · 11 months

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Harvey and Lily - — finding out what each other’s love language is (p.s Harvey's love language is acts of service/gifts/physical touch)

New relationship prompts: @lixnhearted

● A month in. That's all they were to whatever this was between them, neither party quite having figured it out. Though they were at each other's places often enough that it didn't feel odd. Harvey had pulled a late night, far later than usual, thanks to the boy scout. The sun was already rising as he trudged back to his apartment. All he wanted was a drink and to get some shut eye. When he stepped inside, however, he was greeted with first the sight of a few of his suits in dry clean bags tossed off the arm of one of his chairs. A top of that, a new fedora from the looks of it. What? Brow furrowed in confusion. He closed the door and stepped forward, only to spot a lump on his couch hidden under a blanket. Lily. Despite the frustration and exhaustion, a smile tugged at his lips. She had taken care of his suits after he had complained the other night about half of them being ruined. A warm spread through his chest.

● The week had been trying at the best of times. Lily was feeling pressure from the board about her own research and the fumbles from a few students. Stressed was the understatement of the century, and it was bleeding through to everything else in her life. She had tried not to take it out on Harvey, not let it affect what they were building, but it was impossible. Unintentionally, she had distanced herself a bit. Sitting in her office, eyes burning from the lack of sleep the past two days, hair tousled from her constantly running her fingers through it, and blouse sleeves shoved up, she was the perfect picture of a crazed, stressed, professor. And oblivious to what was going on. A knock on the door startled her, actually causing her to jump from her seat. Harvey stood there, a tray of drinks in one hand and a large bag in the other. "Time for a break. You gotta eat." Lily blinked for a moment. When was the last time anyone had actually kept track of that for her? He stepped forward without any invitation, setting the food down and taking a seat across from her. "Whatever you're doing can wait ten minutes, sweetheart. Eat."

● The stupid faculty get-together doubled as a university fundraiser. Sanctioned begging. A necessary part of her job but one that she dislikes nonetheless. All she really wanted to do was be at home with Harvey, curled on the couch, watching some cruddy movie on the television. Instead, she was done up to the nines out of obligation. When it had been mentioned in passing that it was required for her to go, Harvey had offhandedly inquired if he should accompany her. It hadn't been a ploy on her part to get him to ask or say yes, but somehow, he had managed to get himself there. Lily could see the discomfort written on his face. Hell, she would have been able to see it from across the large room. After doing some necessary smoozing, she slid up to his side and slipped her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Almost instantly, his fingers were lacing with hers, some tension leaking from his shoulders, and she took up the conversation that he had been stuck in. He had been kind enough to show up. She could at least provide him an out from the uncomfortable situation.

● Harvey's sweet tooth wasn't a secret. Most of Gotham probably knew about it by now. There were a few places that he favored more than others for some of his pastries, and lately, it hadn't escaped his notice had Lily always had a dessert from one of those specific locations. Some far out of the way from the university or station. Almost every morning now, she either met him outside the precinct or dropped by his apartment to hand over some breakfast. He wanted to tell her it was too much, but damn if he wasn't enjoying it as well. That morning, instead of a bag in her hands, it was a small Tupperware container. She handed it off with a simple peck to his cheek and a smile, promising to see him later. Opening the lid, the smell was heavenly. The Danish itself looked soft and flaky and his favorite flavor. It only hit him when he was halfway to work and halfway through the container. They were homemade. How did he get so lucky?

● Lily hadn't expected any company that evening. Curled up with a book, she knew that Harvey was supposed to be working. So, it was a surprise to find him standing at the door, grinning and seeming pleased with himself. Beard trimmed and hair actually tamed. He looked sharp in the suit even if it was one of his normal work ones. "You gotta go get dressed," he greeted as he leaned in and kissed her cheek, stepping into the apartment at the same time. The question didn't even fall from her lips before he was turning her shoulders, giving a playful slap to her rear. "Don't ask questions, just go get dressed. Doesn't have to be fancy." Lily did as she was told despite the confusion and came out about fifteen minutes later, out of her sweats and into something more acceptable for going out. Harvey placed a hand on the small of her back and led her out to the car, even going so far as opening the door for her. A small smile tugged at her lips, glancing towards him. It was quiet in the car before they pulled up to a small, cozy joint towards the edge of town. Nothing fancy as promised and the sort that was focused more on serving good food than aesthetics. There wasn't a special occasion, no birthday, no anything. She realized he had just decided they needed a night out and some time to themselves. A way of showing he cared.

#lixnhearted #▪︎▪︎ ch: lily young ▪︎▪︎#♡ pairings: lily & harvey ♡#☆ explored; meme responses ☆

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there.

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super.

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door.

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down.

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t d i d i f u c k i n g t e l l y o u , d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection.

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father.

okay that was funny.

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm.

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends?

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead.

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping.

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that.

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them.

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there.

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

taggggg list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer @buticaaba

#river thinks too hard #nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing 83 #dc #nightwing review #nightwing meta #dick grayson review #dick grayson meta #nightwing 83 review #nightwing 83 meta #dc review #dc meta

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thr-333 · 3 years

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Mismatch- Part 25

In my defence I didn’t forget about updating here, I just didn’t want to.

First < Previous

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“How do I look?” Marion asks as people fuss around him, not least of all Marinette herself.

“I hoped that would be obvious seeing as I designed this look,” She smirks at him eyes sparkling he can tell since the whites of the Domino mask are removed.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the greatest and all that,” He waves her off as a stylist tries to tame his hair to fit the messy look she wanted.

“Well it is true isn’t it?” She teases, someone also trying to follow her with a brush and comb as she flies around the room in a whirl of designing.

"Perhaps," Marion hums, gaze drifting over to the door where he notices a familiar figure, Marinette follows his smile.

“Luka!” Marinette exclaims, wrapping her friend in a hug, “When did you arrive?”

“Last night," Luka smiles, she was glad she got the chance to become his friend again as MDC, not that he knew their secret identity, "This city is so majestic,”

“Gotham at night?” Marion scoffs, turning in his seat, only to get scolded by the stylist, “Are we talking about the same place?”

“CD maybe you just haven't taken the time to really hear the city’s song,” Luka strums a few cords to demonstrate, “You should its melody compliments your own,”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Marion shrugs, sitting forward again, “Do you think you can use it to reach out to the Gotham audience? I really want to connect with them,”

“Will do boss,” Marion sticks his tongue at him, Luka only ever called him that in jest.

Luka gives a playful wave leaving to go sort out the music. He had his own responsibilities as the opening act. Marinette feels someone watching them and dismisses the stylist, congratulating her on a great job. She looks a tad peeved as Marion's hair is largely the same as when she entered, but many employees are used to the twins randomly leaving anyway. The door to their dressing room clicks closed and the presence makes itself known.

“What can we do for you, Batman?” Marinette asks, offering him a seat, although she knows he won’t accept it.

“MDC,” he inclines his head, not showing if he was taken aback by her catching him out, “We have reason to believe the concert will be attacked tonight,”

“Yeah, we thought that might happen,” Marion gets up, stretching, “Just try to keep whoever away from the crowd and we can handle the rest,”

“You don’t seem to understand, after the last attack-”

“Sorry to cut you off,” Wow it was weird acing professional around the same guy they had been tormenting the past few weeks, “But that was an impromptu event this one has been planned out for years,"

Officially not but they had designed the building to help them catch akuma in Paris while keeping an event going, they just applied that design to Gotham.

"If you would like to call in the rest of your coworkers we can show you the defenses we have in place so you can work with them,”

Batman seems surprised. What did he think they were just air-headed celebrities? Well, that wasn’t going to be the only surprise of the day then. Sure enough, he calls everyone in and Marinette’s a little hurt to see he invited everyone but Sparrow and Songbird to join in the fun. She hides this fact leading the ragtag group through the backstage area. Spotting their manager she walks over.

“Could you please clear our schedule we want to give them a personal tour of our security measures,” She asks Kate, to her credit only looking mildly surprised to see the whole Batfam trailing after them.

“I thought you might, I’ve already worked it into your schedule, just make sure you're there in time for the costume checks,” Kate looks down tapping away at her tablet, “Also call your uncle arrived in town last night he’ll want to wish you good luck so watch out for him,”

“We couldn’t do it without you,” Marinette beams, letting her go to attend her other duties.

They must make an odd sight, two superstars guiding a pack of vigilantes like ducklings through the backstage. They go over all the security protocols. Safe rooms that the staff was instructed to go to under certain circumstances. There were carefully lain traps that only a few people could trigger to set off. On the stage itself was a secret compartment Marion could make a quick getaway to get change in, a tunnel leading backstage. The entire backstage was a maze in itself all the staff specially trained to navigate it.

To protect the audience they hadn't packed it nearly as much as they could have so it meant it easier for them to reach the exits. Indeed there were hidden emergency exits that people could escape through if villains blocked the obvious ones, they were set to reveal themselves if that was the case. There were also hidden trapdoors in rows of seats that would glow if people were forced to duck behind the seats. It leads to underground tunnels that would lead them safely away. There were even tunnels connecting to the staff safe rooms so they could come and direct the audience as needed. Marinette had made sure to make the tunnels look inviting ad pleasant so no one would panic at being underground.

Then there were the special (comfy) perches that they showed to the Batfamily, each situated to look over everything and be hidden by the lights. There were wires leading to the stage and audience in case they needed to get down quickly and quietly. They also made a web above that they could run along and run any interference with ariel attacks. They also gave them each a blueprint of the stadium so they could see all the secret tunnels that were perfect for a surprise attack. There were ones leading into the entrance subtle enough someone could be pulled in while walking into the building, for the purposes of catching criminals before they even entered. There was also a trap door that could open underneath, she gave them each a remote control to these, warning them to use them wisely. Each hidden door leads to a room suited for fighting, carefully crafted to give the bats and edge.

It had taken a long time and a lot of money but they had invested, making a safe place they could rent out to other performers so there could be more shows in Gotham conducted safely. She could tell that by the end of the tour even Batman was impressed as they headed back to the stage through the empty audience seating.

“Hey! Superstars!” Jagged's voice booms across the arena, waving from the entrance of the place.

“Uncle Jagged!” Marion jumps over seats to reach him, Marinette a step behind him as they both tackle him into a hug.

“Good to see you too,” Jagged ruffles their hair, Marinette sends a silent apology to the stylist, “This place looks Rockin!”

“You bet just wait till I take the stage,” Marion grins, as they both hug Penny and Fang as well.

“Why wait! Show me what you got,” Jagged sends Marion off, who runs to the technicians asking if they can do an early mic check, everyone scrambles to make it happen.

“So how’re you finding Gotham?” Jagged asks her, walking with a side hug back towards the Batfamily.

“Oh, you know… busy,”

“I’d say the news with Marion? That was wicked!”

“Yes… wicked,” Penny pales at just the memory, and yeah fair enough.

“Yo Batman great to meet you!” Jagged boisterous nature meets Batman’s stoic one but the poor guy barely has a chance to adjust before Jagged’s moving on.

“Yo Red Hood right?” Hood looks a little shocked as Jagged claps a hand on his shoulder, “You saved my nephew, I really owe you one!”

“Oh-that's not- I just,” Marinette shares a smirk with Jagged which would have surely had Marion screaming.

“Yeah, he really looks up to you!” Jagged has him spluttering more, she would show him mercy but they only have so much time before Marion catches on.

“Oh Uncle Jagged I wouldn’t phrase it like that,” Marinette says in a suggestive tone, the stage is still empty of Marion.

“Of course, no I’d say it more that...” Marinette could actually laugh as Red Hood practically vibrates from anticipation, “He likes you,”

I think we just killed him, Marinette notes as Red Hood internally combusts. Well now wasn't the time to show mercy.

“I’d say that's putting it rather lightly,” Marinette smirks as Red Hood is sent into another spluttering mess, and oh how she wishes he wasn't wearing that helmet.

“Right it’s more like-”

“Stop it both of you,” Penny’s reprimand has them both doubling over with laughter. The Batfamily looking absolutely bewildered. Minus of course, Red Hood who they may have to call an ambulance for soon if he doesn't start breathing.

“What are you two laughing at?” Marion walks to the edge of the stage, someone fusses with a microphone not too far away.

“Nooothhinggggg,” They chime simultaneously, with matching grins.

“Penny?” Marion all but whines, fidgeting nervously.

“They haven’t said anything bad,” She assures him, Marion foolishly relaxes.

“Hey is this the guy that saved your hide?” Jagged asks, having the guts to swing his arm around Red Hood’s shoulders.

“Uncle Jagged,” He hisses at the same time Penny hisses ‘Jagged’.

“You should thank him... sing endless!” Jagged exclaims, and Marinette couldn’t be sure he hasn't been planning this from the start, “You wrote it for him didn’t you?”

“Not for him its not-” Marion makes a bunch of vague gestures, “You know?”

“Not at all,” Jagged grins, dragging Red Hood closer to center stage seats, he plops down Red Hood right in the middle of the stadium. The rest of the Batfam take seats around them. “Sing Endless!”

Marion is scowling but doesn't have much other choice as a stagehand tell him he’s all set. He takes the microphone. Marinette mimes at him to breathe, he rolls his eyes but does anyway. The music starts Marion hitting his cue and with just the first few words she could see the tension drain away.

“And the world starts slowly caving it~”

It was such a gentle song. So many people had told him and still told him that it didn’t fit the violent vigilante. The producers had argued they should just fit it to someone else, someone people liked more. In the end, they had caved to Marion's arguments probably because it wasn't made to be an upbeat pop song so they weren't too attached to the money making aspect. That didn't stop the audience from arguing about it afterwards. Some claimed they just randomly selected the song, or that they shouldn't have done one for him at all.

Marion pointedly told them they were all wrong. And looking at Red Hood now, completely enthralled with Marion's singing she could tell that, yeah it had fit him perfectly all along.

"All the words you said were they true? or just selfish li-es~"

Marinette broke her gaze away from Marion to look at the rest of the Batfamily. Suffice to say they were all enthralled, hopefully they wouldn't be this distracted at the concert tonight. Although she supposed it was a good thing they were doing the mic check now so they could watch now and focus later. Then again she doubted Red Hood would be much use regardless, he was leaning forward in his seat the rest of the world dead to him. To fair Marion wasn't much better. In a crowd he would look around or at least pick a random stop to sing to no one. This time however? this time he was locked on to Red Hood sinign directly to him and he probably didn't even realise.

"Gave all I ever had try to make you laugh try to please you~"

Batman looked uncomfortable at the line. Judjing by the times she had seen them spend together there was a tension between them a past she didn't know. How Marion managed to pick up on that long before they came to Gotham she doesn't know. It was almost like he could see into his soul, a connection there despite never having met, like the pull of a miraculous.

"All I know is gone, now I'm all alone~"

Marion wasn’t testing out the mics. That much was obvious. He was straight up performing. And no he hadn’t written the song for Red Hood persay. But she had watched him every night and day agonize over the right words to use, the tune, the feeling behind it. Scraping up every bit of information he could it was probably more thorough than any police investigation done on Red Hood. It was then she realized, their room covered top to bottom in pictures of him covering the ones she had of Adrien, that Marion had completely and utterly fallen for the guy. No, it wasn't a song for him, it was a love letter for him, to him, about him. It was a picture that painted exactly how Marion saw him.

And she was willing to bet that the only people that didn’t realize it were them, both completely captivated by each other as Marion finished.

“What is it~” He holds the next note until the music fades out into nothingness, “Inside~”

The music stops, Marion opening his eyes, almost seeming startled that there were other people sitting before him. It’s only then he seemed to realize that there was more than just one other person in the arena and spirited off to check with the sound. It was as he turned to walk away Marinette could tell Hood had seen it, the robins newly stitched up the back of his jacket.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #ML #bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #bio dad bruce wayne #Mismatch #marinette is mdc #twins au #vigilante AU #Popstar AU #MLB #salt #Slight salt #lila #lila lies #class trip au #maribat

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danddymaro · 3 years

Text

A Touch of Happiness Pt.1 |Arthur Fleck x Reader

It’ll have like three little parts. something sweet and loving.

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word count : 2013

Part 1 : Thank You

She took in a large breath, letting a sweet, relaxing glob of air fill her lungs before she decided to step closer to the lonesome clown, and truth be told, it took her more than that one attempt to gather herself entirely.

She’d fumbled with the hem of her new suit’s jacket, pacing back and forth over and over before she fought against her better senses that told her to just walk away.

And inwardly, she cursed at her nature, despising how easily she caved at the sight of the defeated man because, in Gotham, she shouldn't be so trusting.

She shouldn’t be so eager to walk through the filthy ally just to reach some stranger she knew nothing about.

‘But here I am,’ She mused just as she came closer to the man, each step that crunched under her little pumps making her heart fasten furthermore with anxiousness.

‘He could be a murderer.’ her consciousness chided her, ‘Or a robber at best you idiot!’ it went on,

‘AT BEST! So, Turn back....just turn back...Go back...’ It went on, the little voice rising with more distress and alarm as she was finally only just a few steps from him.

For just a measly second she stopped, swallowing down thickly as she made her final decision,

‘TURN BACK NOW!’ Her inner self barked one final time before she shook her head to rid herself of the negative thoughts, deciding to go with the little aching muscle in her chest that told her to help him.

Upon coming nearer she noticed was far too thin to be called slender, and that perhaps sitting alone in a filthy alley wasn’t his only problem.

He was terribly underweight, greatly concerning her, and with knitted brows she knelt to him, her voice soft and sweet as she tried to appear harmless to him in order to coax him out of whatever misery that clouded him,

‘Just a smile, come on now,’ She inwardly encouraged him, cheering for him.

‘Sometimes, just forcing a smile will get you through the day,’ She went on, ‘And other times when that doesn’t work... it takes a fool like me to infect someone,’ She mused, wanting to spread to him a small percentage of herself just to lift him up.

‘Sometimes I have A hard day too,’ She reasoned, wishing that during those times someone would walk over to her and sit with her.

Not talk.

Not even listen.

Just sit.

‘Just knowing that someone is there...That someone in this awful city cares...’

The stench of garbage made her face scrunch up, but swallowing down the squeamish side of her, she focused more on getting the poor man out of there, momentarily shutting off her nose.

She made sure to keep her legs pressed together as she hunkered, her hand hesitant to actually touch him before she spoke, “H-Hey there,” She said with uncertainty, seeing him lift his head up to the sound of her voice.

“Huh..?” A little sound left him as he gazed up at her, and with that single motion, she could see his face properly.

It was masked by a thick coating of makeup, something she’d been expectant of, however, the heavy smudges which had bunched up and left his skin naked made her breath hitch.

Vibrant, large green eyes glowed at the sight of her, ones she would have stared at longer had it not been for another color that stole the show,

‘He’s...he’s bleeding !’ She thought with horror.

Scarlet dribbled down both his nose and mouth, causing her heart to ache at the pathetic sight, and what was much worse, it seemed as though they weren't the only marks on him.

Purplish hues slipped through the thin patches of white that let her know that he had endured so much more in the past.

“...Oh...Oh no,” She said worriedly, frantically touching the side of his face with her shaking head, feeling the oily mix of makeup and sweat as well as sticky, warm blood greet her flesh.

Her eyes dashed left and right to find someone to help her, but finding not a soul there with them in the filthy spot, something she was partially grateful for because she would have been terrified to find anyone else in the same alleyway.

It was only natural to search for help, the only reason she even bothered to look around, and it took that single glance to remember just where she was,

‘I really hate Gotham!’ She thought with dismay, despising its cruelty, much more the way it’d jaded its community.

She knew that if there had been anyone else to see the dilemma they would have walked away briskly, choosing to ignore them altogether to save themselves from any one else’s troubles.

“Oh...oh no,” she muttered again, “Oh God, are you alright?” She asked with worry, her eyes finding him again, peeled wide open and attentively.

Through his blurry, miserable sight, he saw an angel, A literal angel in every sense of the word came down to help him and he was so stunned, he laughed.

And laughed …

And laughed…

He laughed like a madman, croaking out soon after as he felt his already knocked out air leave him.

He could see it in her face: the clear as day fright.

she was obviously freaked out, but nonetheless, she stayed.

All the while, her face was full of discomfort, but she held it in, biting her tongue as she helped him up instead, choosing to save all the questions for afterward. Knowing he was in for a particularly stressful fit he fumbled with his pant pocket, taking out a laminated little card that seemed to have been folded and bunched more than once, shakenly forcing it onto her hand so she could take a hold of it.

“What’s thi-” Stopping mid sentence she read the words, soon understanding just why he was so eager to get her to read it,

“Forgive my laughter,” She said softly, reading the front, “I have a condition,” she went on, wondering just what type of condition it was.

‘I’ve never heard of it... much less seen it for myself,’ She thought while she continued to watch him let out the sounds of amusement that all sounded pained and heart wrenching as though every moment of it was pure hell.

Turning over the little laminated piece (f/n) continued to read, "It's a medical condition causing sudden... frequent... uncontrollable laughter that doesn’t match how you feel, “ She continued, “ It can happen in people with a brain injury or certain neurological conditions." She added with a touch of sadness and as she uttered the final words, she felt a powerful jab to her chest that rendered her weak.

She then felt guilt for having wanted to back away when she heard the first burst of giggles escape.

However, despite the urge to flee, something in her heart had refused to let her move, urging her to help him, to give him the much-needed hand that he’d been denied until then.

And just then, she was thankful for that small part of her that was ‘stupid.’ because it’d kept her there.

“- That’s right, come on,” she encouraged him, patting his back, not knowing what else she could do before she tried to help him up. Grimacing, she used all of her strength to help him out, inwardly wondering how the hell someone so small could be so heavy,

“Let’s get you out of here,” She said anxiously, not willing to stay any longer out of public view, not trusting the smelly, narrow path.

So, steadily she helped the man make his way out onto the decently populated sidewalk as he struggled with his ongoing fit, soon standing before the old, beaten building’s large ‘out of business’ sign.

“Much better,” She muttered to herself, offering him a pretty smile, clearing the (h/c) colored strands that had annoyingly fallen into view during her struggle.

And soon enough he too began to compose himself, slowly growing calmed.

They spent a moment in silence before she shot her arm out to him, her hand set right before him,

“Um...I’m (f/n) by the way,” She said with uncertainty, not knowing what else to say.

She wanted to ask more about his illness but didn’t want to seem rude, or much worse make him feel bad about it when she knew he didn’t want to live with it.

She was certain no one would want to live with what seemed to be a painful, inescapable moment.

‘ (F/n) ’ he thought to himself, all the while staring at her, unable to draw his eyes away.

“(f/n)” he repeated, his green eyes gleaming.

He felt drunk on a sweet feeling he'd never been washed by before.

It was a lovely mix of appreciation and awe, as well as admiration sprinkled with something more he just couldn’t place, but he knew made him happy.

It made him feel alive and whimsical, something that’d only been an experience when his mind would wander to all the impossibilities that could never occur in his life, but he so desperately desired,

“I- I...I’m A-”

She continued to smile before she suddenly seemed struck by alarm, not letting him finish his introduction, her hands immediately flying towards the sides of her head and slapping there with a little sound that made him wince,

“The bus!” She exclaimed, her voice high and screechy, “I’m going to miss the bus!” she said with wide (e/c) colored eyes, double-checking the time on her cheap, little watch.

“If I miss it...” She trailed off, horror written over her face as she thought of what would occur if she did happen to miss the transportation.

‘No....no...I’m going to make it!’ She thought determinedly as she swallowed up a large, exaggerated breath, kicking off her little heels before she made a mad dash down the street, the pumps in hand after she hastily reached down to them, racing against time to reach her destination.

“Arthur...” He said softly, his hoarse voice small and weak as he watched her run from him, his heavily bouncing heart giving one final leap before it stopped, constricted as he realized that not only had he been left with the words in his mouth, but also with the 'thank you' she deserved.

The sweet woman had been just a chance encounter he knew he’d dwell over, hurt because all in all, he couldn’t tell her just how much her selfless, little act had meant to him.

And then there was another thing that left him with his head hanging,

“My card...” He breathed, “She...She took my card,” He added, feeling utterly stupid as he’d watched her scrabble away with it in hand, her mind probably scrambled with how hastily she’d left, not really meaning to steal it.

He felt defeated, yet within the bitter feeling of disappointment was a sweet, little touch of warmth that made him force a gentle smile,

‘To think... she stopped for me...’ He thought to himself.

He’d seen one too many people pass him up, not just then, but in the past.

It’d hurt until he became numb to it, by then expectant of the cold shoulder of the world.

However, with that single person that presented their hand to him, he couldn’t help but smile.

He felt something he thought had died somehow spring back up with new life,

“Thank You (f/n),” He said out to the wind, wishing that the air would magically carry out his words of appreciation to her, letting her know that his day had brightened from it’s normally grimy filter thanks to her.

It wasn’t much, but for once in a very long time he could see hints of soft colors begin to surround him, and he had her to thank,

“Thank you...” He said again, wishing he had a chance to properly express to her how much it really meant.

#arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck x reader insert #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur x reader #dc joker #dc comics #joker #the joker #the joker x reader #joker 2019 #dc reader insert #the joker x reader insert #the joker x female reader #the joker fluff #arthur fleck fluff

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years

Text

For Wandering Dreamers (Pt. 2)

Synopsis: After hearing your parents argue about something for what feels like the zillionth time that night, you escape to your books and comics for some escaping of reality. Just as the argument ends with slamming doors, a note and locket landed on your bed. Inscribed on the note was a promise of new adventures and a better life awaiting you.

Notes: Y/F/D= Your Favorite Drink Y/N= Your Name Y/N/N= Your Nickname Y/F/P= Your Favorite Playlist

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1979

You woke up to the sound of someone trying to wake you up and small beams of golden sunlight peaking in through the curtains of your bedroom.

“Y/N, it’s time to get up.” You rolled over and rubbed your eyes to see Damian stepping back. His emerald green eyes sparkled in the light and you smirked some siting up and taking your hair out of the two braids that it was in, revealing wavy hair

“What time is it?” You mumbled yawning.

“it’s 9:15 in the morning. Alfred has breakfast prepared downstairs.” He informed you as you rolled out of bed fixing your shirt.

“Thank you. I’ll be downstairs shortly.” You said, “Wait, where is the kitchen?”

“So, you can make your way to the Batcave and the Fortress of Solitude but not the kitchen?” He chuckled, “You surprise me more and more every minute.”

“Well, I have seen blue prints on Google of the house but it was how someone imagined it so I cannot guarantee that that is actually how to get downstairs.” “And also, you will find that I am in fact very impressive in multiple ways.” You smiled getting out one of the outfits that you packed.

Running into the bathroom as Damian waited outside on the bed for you, you changed into your favorite colored thinner hoodie, denim jacket, dark grey ripped jeans, black and white Adidas, and you put your hair up. After that you brushed your teeth and then headed out to go downstairs with Damian.

“Try and take the lead.” He challenged, “Just see if you can make it to the kitchen.”

“Fine.” You replied walking down the hallway, eventually to a set of stairs.

“Oh, what floor are we on Damian?” You asked.

“Just the second.” He answered.

“Cool.” You walked down the flight of stairs which seemed never ending and then to a double staircase that led to the massive living room and to the side, the kitchen.

“It wasn’t that hard.” Damian remarked behind you.

“Mhmm.” You rolled your eyes getting a small laugh from Jason who was leaning on the counter.

“So, you must be Y/N?” Jay asked.

“Yep.” You answered, “Oh Jason, just for your information, all of Tumblr wants you to know that you’re awesome.” “It’s a social media platform where I’m from.” You explained, “I don’t know if you guys have it.”

“Finally, some recognition around here.” He threw his hands up in exasperation, “And what does Tumblr say about the rest of the crew?”

“It’s pretty unsurprising really.” You answered, “Dick is the mother hen, you’re the awesome one that everyone loves, Tim is the sleep deprived little bean,” you laughed some and continued pulling up a link on your phone, “According to this, Damian is a small deadly cupcake, Cass is an amazing and beautiful person who everyone would seriously die for, Steph is a waffle queen, Babs is just a queen... no a goddess, Bruce is the mom jeans dad, and Alfred is superior to all. Oh, and Kate is a badass, Duke is the sane one, and seriously at the end of this it says that the writer would die for every one of you guys.” “So yeah, you guys are pretty popular.”

Jason was wheezing laughing at Tim and Damian’s description and Dick was slightly offended before be introduced himself. You guys talked a lot much to what seemed to be the to the jealously of Damian for some reason. You wouldn’t admit it but Damian was your favorite Robin. You had had a crush on him but you know, that didn’t need to come to light.

You sat down at the table and was talking to Damian again who was seated next to you as everyone sat down. They were asking questions and introducing themselves little by little. It was just as you had imagined it on the nights that you dreamed of leaving home or scrolling through some sort of fan fic. The breakfast was amazing and was enough to make you remember that you actually had a life outside of this. Plus, would Bruce pay for education? You weren’t really expecting that but it was the summer time so you assumed that there was no need to worry about that yet.

A few weeks later...

You were walking around Gotham with Damian the day after the third gala that you had attended. It wasn’t hard to become fast friends with Cass, Babs, and Steph seeing as how they were literal queens of the entire Batfam and the rest of the family welcomed you with open arms, but recently you and Damian haven’t been spending as much time as the two of you would like to. It was something that he had “voiced” after kind of ignoring you for a few days which led to some interrogation on your end, plus some slight teasing.

Finally, you guys were doing something that didn’t involve six other people, even if those *other people* were very much welcomed. The two of you walked down a sidewalk into a coffee shop where you proceeded to grab a table for the two of you and Damian got the drinks. He came back and smiled some, sitting down and passing you Y/F/D.

“Thank you.” You said taking a sip from the drink.

“Anytime.” He answered before the look of an idea graced his face, “There’s a book store not too far from here that you’d probably like.”

“Is it a Barnes and Noble or just corner/ local shop?” You inquired.

“It’s a corner shop just down the street. Trust me, it’s better than any Barnes and Noble you’ve ever seen.” He answered.

“Wanna bet on it Dames?” You chuckled some.

“Only if you’re prepared to lose Y/N/N.” Damian challenged, “If this is the most impressive book store you’ve ever walked into, I get to take you out on a date Friday night.”

“Well, then, I might purposely lose, Wayne.” You smiled at him some, the look of brilliant trouble glazing over your eyes, “And if I win, you can take me out and kiss me after the store.”

“I might do both regardless.”

You raised a brow, “Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go see this awe -inspiring book store.”

You guys walked down the street, swarmed by the media and paparazzi as they were getting pictures of Gotham’s newest unconfirmed couple. The two of you stopped in front of a store that read, “Corner- Shop Books.”

“Straight to the point I see.” You said sarcastically as you guys walked inside.

“Mhmm.” Damian looked to see your reaction which was almost immediate.

The shop was bigger than you expected. There were shelves everywhere and a small sitting area near the middle of the store. In the back, there were stairs that lead to another floor of books and the seemingly infinite sea of literature drew in anyone that gazed into its glass doors. You were still for a second, admiring the large room and then walking around some, leaving Damian behind for a few seconds.

To Damian, watching you was like watching a kid in a candy shop. You gently ran your fingers over some of the intricate spines of the books, making your way to the classical literature, and then myths, history, and up the staircase to where the fiction and fantasy was.

He smiled as you looked so at peace in the world. It was the first time that he had really seen you this comfortable aside from some of the moments where you two were alone in the library reading or out in the gardens having conversations on whatever subject or topic you were interested in discussing. The thought that you guys might be here for hours crossed his mind, but was quickly brushed away once he saw the excited look on your face as you found something that was interesting enough to grab hold of your ever -wandering attention.

“What is this one about?” He asked referring to the hard -back book with a beautiful pale pink and gold cover, and what looked to be part of a castle on the spine.

You were reading the synopsis of the book before answering him, “It’s a book about a princess that comes from a lineage where the first of the family was a “god killer” of sorts. He defeated the goddess of death when she decided to take over the land and now the goddess, 300 years later, is back to reclaim her throne.” You stopped for a second, “It’s also got a male character who acts as an assassin for the king and may or may not be the romantic interest of the trilogy.”

“The boxed set is right there if you’d like it.” He picked it up and handed it to you.

“I’d like to not spend a ton of money on books until I find a job or something.” You said putting the book down.

“I’ll get it for you. Just get what you’d like, the bookshelves in your bedroom are looking empty as of late except for the few you managed to bring. I can see how you stare at it sometimes with the look of dissatisfaction during some of our conversations.” Damian offered, joking some at the last part.

“Dames, it’s okay I-“ He cut you off.

“I insist Y/N.” He said handing you the box of books.

You gratefully smiled at him and offered a thank you before continuing along in the store to hunt for more books. It was maybe three hours before you guys left. You had a few bags of books and thanked Damian profusely. He insisted that it was totally fine and you kind of stopped once you reminded yourself that he was, in fact, the son of a billionaire.

Once back in the manor, you had run upstairs to start organizing your shelf, you know, as any book worm might. It wasn’t long before you got a knock at the door and you were pretty sure you knew exactly who it was.

“Come in.” You turned off Y/F/P and waited for the person to come in.

Damian walked into your room and shut the door, “So, about the bet.” He asked, “Was it the most impressive book store you’ve ever seen?”

You thought for a moment, “Well I mean, the one in New York was really cool that one time, oh there was that one from Jersey...” You looked up and smiled, “Just kidding. And yes, it was by far, the best bookstore I’ve ever seen.”

He smiled and walked to you, putting his hands on your waist, “Then I hope that you will keep your end of the bargain and accompany me to dinner Friday night?”

“I will.” You replied, your breath hitching some at how close you two were, “I am slightly disappointed that you didn’t lose though.”

“And why is that Y/N?” He asked.

“Because now, you don’t have to kiss me.” You smirked some as he stared you intensely.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” With that, he pulled you into a long kiss, you ran your fingers through his hair at one point, and he pulled you dangerously close to his chest.

Once you broke apart he spoke up, “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

“That’s an offer I cannot pass up.” You answered, “100%.”

“Well then beloved...” You smiled at the name remembering it from the fan fics, “I hope you have something to wear for our date.”

“I’ll find something.” You looked at your stack of books debating whether or not to start shelving them.

Your thoughts came to a stop when you heard that dinner was ready, you would just do it while Damian was on patrol. You were a night owl anyways, so it wouldn’t matter.

Ya’ll I’m dying I haven’t had literally any sleep but here we are lol. I hope that you guys had a great Easter and are doing well. If you have any requests, please send them in. I hope that you guys are staying safe and are well have a good day and keep sane! 😊

#damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x y/n #damian wayne imagine #robin x reader #robin x y/n #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #dc comics #dc x reader #fan fic stuff #fan fic #for wandering dreamers series

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harley-quinnn · 5 years

Text

Home

Joker x Reader x Harley Quinn

Prompt: Hello! I loved what you did with the Buried Treasure request! I was wondering if i could request a Joker x Harley x Reader. Where the reader is joker and Harleys daughter that got separated from them at birth and they find out that Bruce Wayne has been raising her and try to get her back?

{A/N} Hi puddin’s! I know a couple of you were looking forward to this one! I hope I did it some justice. I was considering continuing it down the line but I’m not sure! If ya have any ideas (or want) for a part two, let your favorite jester know!

xo Harley

Warnings: A kidnapping.

Wayne Manor was a perfect vision as snow fell from the sky on a cold winter’s morning. The windows were frosted with ice and the large fireplace that you’d always adored in the winter months growing up was burning brightly with logs, the woodsy scent filling the air. You approached the hearth, leaving your slippers in front of it to warm them up as you plopped beside your father, Bruce Wayne. Or as the rest of Gotham knew him: Batman.

“Mornin’, dad!” you said, curling up beside him as you waited for your slippers to warm.

“{Y/N}, you’re up early,” he said, averting his eyes from the television for a moment to look at you.

“Yeah, something wouldn’t let me sleep. It was like I kept hearing someone talk to me, but no one was there. Weird.”

Bruce only set his eyes back on the news, shrugging gently.

“Maybe it was a dream.”

“Probably,” you agreed.

Bruce was the perfect father to you. He truly deserved the ‘best dad ever’ mugs you saw everyone with. If there was a problem, he’d fix it. If you were sick, he’d nurse you back to health, and if you needed anything in this wide world, he would get it for you. You’d never met your mother, or really even heard anything about her, but at a young age you came to terms with the fact that Bruce was more than enough. Though he was gone for work quite often, he did the best he could.

Growing up, you never really saw the same similaries in his features that you did with you friends and their parents. In fact, when you looked in the mirror, you saw none of his features at all, but decided that whoever your mother was, her genes must’ve been the more dominant ones.

You were a normal girl growing up, nothing out of the ordinary ever really happened to you. But when boredom struck, you’d daydream about impossible things, like coming face to face with Gotham’s worst criminals, or their best heroes; joining forces with good against evil. But in your deepest, darkest fantasies, evil against good.

There was always an unknown force pulling at you to be deliciously bad, but the way your father raised you, you never acted on any impulse such as that. As you grew older, your mind began to shift and blossom with strange ideas. You pushed them down as far as possible. There was nothing you wanted less than to disappoint Bruce. Lately though, you’d been dealing with a new phenomena- the voices in your head. Not being used to them and their chatter, it kept you up more often than not.

“I just hate that they’ve been keeping me awake,” you sighed.

Alfred approached then, bearing a hot cup of tea, steam rising from the porcelain as he carefully handed you the small plate and cup.

“Miss, {Y/N},” he began before turning to Bruce with a glint in his eye. “Master Wayne, might I suggest you turn in for the night? Now that it’s the morning.”

You sit upright, almost spilling your tea in shock as you set eyes on your father.

“Dad! You haven’t slept yet?”

“Thanks, Alfred,” he offered a knowing grin before turning back to you.

“Not yet, sweetheart. I’ve been..”

“No excuses,” you interrupted, sipping gingerly from your cup before speaking again. “Please go to bed. It’s not healthy to stay up the way you have been lately. I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”

You cared deeply about your father. There was no one else on the planet that you could’ve loved or trusted more. You only wanted to help him, and if that meant bossing him around like you assumed your mother would’ve had she been around, you’d do it with a smile.

He sighed, ultimately defeated. His weakness had always been you, and though you always knew that, you only used it when it benefited him, if only in the long run. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he geared up to head upstairs.

“They’ll be there in the morning, Master Wayne,” you heard Alfred say quietly to him before he handed off the remote to you.

For a moment, you wondered who he was talking about, but respecting their privacy, especially since he’d been around far longer than you, you politely ignored it. Bruce leaned down, kissing your forehead delicately and squeezing your shoulder.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he smiled.

“You’d lose a lot more sleep!” You quipped, and he made his way up to his room, clearly exhausted.

“Alfred?” You called, turning to face him, but he had disappeared, too.

You shrugged. Guess it’s just me, myself and I today.

-x-x-x-

“Puddin’!” Harley exclaimed as she bounded through the large double doors to the master bedroom. There The Joker stood, leaning against the window with his palm pressed against the freezing cold glass. He was deep in thought, that much was certain, but Harley didn’t care.

His jaw tensed up, his eyes slowly coming back from the daze they were in as he turned around to face her. She reeled back only slightly as he spoke.

“Now Harley, what did I tell ya about interrupting me when I’m busy?”

“I.. I’m sorry, puddin’.. But, Mistah J, I.. I found her..!” She squeaked, holding up a piece of paper.

On second glance, it looked like she’d been crying, and while J didn’t exactly care, deep, deep down he hated to see her of all people in such an emotional state; if only because it was so darn annoying.

“Who?” He drew out, his eyes wide as he lifted his hands.

“Our baby, J. Our little puddin’..”

Harley’s voice was soft, something The Joker wasn’t used to anymore either.

“She’s been with… With that stupid bat! Tha whole fuckin’ time!” She exploded again, back to her firecracker disposition.

He simply turned around again and cracked his neck slowly, his eyes drifting about the snow that fell just outside of the glass. The voices in his head chattered a million miles a minute as he tried to wrap his head around what she’d just said. Unable to quiet them down, he let out a loud growl before pulling a gun from the holster he wore at all times and cocking it before swiftly turning around on his heel.

“Then let’s go get her, baby,” he purred with a wide grin.

-x-x-x-

The fire roared in its place as you dozed off on the couch, casting a soft orange glow upon everything before it. Winter had always been your favorite time of year and you were snug as a bug under a large knitted blanket. The television was on low volume, and everything about that morning felt cozy as you floated through dreamland, finally catching up on some of the sleep you’d missed thanks to the chattering in your head the previous night. All was calm… until-

“She’s so beautiful, J,” a voice whispered.

“Shut up, you’ll wake her,” another whispered back.

“She looks just like ya..”

Thud.

“Ow! Okay, okay!”

You stirred in your sleep with an audible sigh, coming out of your slumber just slightly as you figured the chatter was back, though the voices were not ones you’d recognized before, or as coherent as usual. At least you’d enjoyed the peace and quiet while you could, but after a soft gasp emitted from one of the voices, a strange smell filled your nostrils. It was only seconds before you were back in dreamland, and the voices fell radio silent.

When you woke up again, you were no longer in your cozy spot on the couch, tucked under your favorite blanket. Instead, you were in the middle of a large bed, surrounded by a black comforter and red pillows. It took a few seconds to realize you weren��t in your home anymore, jumping curtly the moment you were coherent enough to take notice of your new surroundings.

“Oh my god!” You yelled, bolting upright. “Where am I? What’s going on?!”

Panic set in as you untucked yourself from this new blanket in someone else’s bed. When you lifted your head to scan your surroundings, you saw what felt like your worst nightmare sitting the in corner in a large throne-like chair.

“Oh good.. You’re up.. Harley!” The man called, and before too long, a blonde leapt through the doorway.

The man who sat in the chair had striking features. His hair was green, his teeth were metal and his eyes were bluer than any you’d ever seen before. The word “damaged” was written across his forehead, and the way his eyes fell on the girl who ran into the room, you knew they were the kind of item everyone said they were.

The blonde on the other hand, was just as tattooed and her hair that was usually seen in pigtails on the news laid in waves around her face instead. Her lips were red and her skin was like porcelain. They were a sight to behold, two gorgeous people in one room. But as you looked at them, you saw something familiar: something you just couldn’t put your finger on. What could I possibly see in the infamous Joker and Harley Quinn that would be.. familiar?

“Don’t be scared!” Harley urged, holding her hands up. “We.. we’re not gonna hurt ya. We just wanted ta’ see, ya, sweetheart..”

Your brow furrowed as you listened to her speak, unable to form a true sentence as The Joker stood from his seat, approaching the bed.

“What do you want from me?” You asked cautiously through the emotion catching your vocal chords.

To remain unphased by this kidnapping would be impossible. To actually believe they weren’t trying to hurt you was even more impossible. The Joker didn’t speak, he simply eyed you, a look of longing in his eyes as he turned to face the window again. You were frightened, that much was certain. All you could think about was if your father was alright; if he could sense how much you needed him in that moment.

“I know ya don’t recognize us, well, for what we are. But.. You’re our daughter!”

Harley Quinn apparently had no tact or bedside manner.

“No,” You retort immediately. “No way.”

As the cogs in your mind began to work in overdrive, the room around you spun. Trying to process the information she’d just nonchalantly spilled onto you was overwhelming.

“No..” you said again as your eyes studied her features, and then J’s profile as he stared out of the window. “That can’t… But my father…”

A wide grin crossed Harley’s lips as she nodded, clearly excited despite your fading into an emotional blackout. The voices in your head seemed to laugh at you as your ears rang and stars filled your eyes. In what felt like seconds, you were opening your eyes again in a panic, clutching onto the blankets with trembling fingers underneath you as a hand wiped a cloth over your forehead.

“There she is,” Harley whispered, a concerned look on her features now as you came to once more. “I thought maybe we lost ya all over again!”

You shook your head, completely disbelieving of the story you were being fed. Still, in your hazy state, you weren’t sure what to believe anymore.

“Prove it,” you mumbled under her hand, closing your eyes again as you tried to calm down.

It crossed your mind that your father might not realize you were gone thanks to his lack of sleep. You didn’t have your phone with you, and you knew he’d be a worrying mess when he did wake up and you weren’t there. Before you had time to ask, a piece of paper was being held before your face by a pale, tattooed hand.

“Your birth certificate,” The Joker purred.

You opened your eyes again, your brows seemingly in a permanent state of furrowed as your eyes met his intense gaze before landing on the paper before you, scanning all the pertinent information.

Gotham City, USA.

Arkham Asylum.

Mother: Harleen F. Quinzel. Father: blank.

“They wouldn’t put Mistah J on the dotted line, can ya believe that?” Harley griped as you continued to read.

There it was at the bottom, your very birthday and the time you were born, and at the top, your name. You had seen this exact document before, though the names weren’t Harleen and unknown, and you certainly weren’t born in an asylum. It clicked though, and it clicked all too well. Your features never resembled Bruce Wayne. They resembled Harley and The Joker.

Your eyes fell shut as he took the paper away, not wanting to believe this was actually happening. Your father was your world, but in that moment you didn’t know how you felt anymore. It felt wrong to want to be happy to know where you actually came from. Regardless of anything, Bruce raised you your entire life. You couldn’t just hop onto their side. A pang of hurt and anger pulled at your emotions, too. How could they just abandon me? As though she knew what you were thinking, Harley spoke up.

“They locked my ass up in Arkham when I was pregnant with ya. I wasn’t quick enough to get away, I guess,” she started, a soft giggle emitting from her cherry lips.

“But they kept me in there, an’ the moment you were born…” she paused, and you watched as anger and sorrow filled her eyes in the form of faint tears. “They took ya away from me, {Y/N}.. From us.”

A loud crash echoed through the room, startling you as your eyes immediately landed on the direction it came from. The Joker has thrown everything off of a table in the corner; his own fit of rage at the loss they suffered.

“An’ then when I asked where ya were, what they did with ya.. They laughed at me. They’d already given ya ta’ the first person who walked in. We thought it was someone else, someone who only wanted ya for some kind of sick reason.. We looked for ya up an’ down, no dice every time. Come ta’ find out it was just Bats wanting to do good for an ‘otherwise disadvantaged child,’” she said, spitting out her last statement as though it were completely despicable.

“B-bats..?”

“Oh sweetie, ya didn’t know?” Harley asked, her tone just below condescending.

“What do you think your father does at night?” The Joker spoke up finally, his slender fingers hanging air quotes around the word father. “Hangs out at.. business meetings at 3 AM?” He laughed abruptly.

“He’s been doin’ nothin’ but causin’ us trouble. We shoulda known,” Harley chimed in.

The emotion in her voice was raw, and the lack thereof on The Joker’s clenched jaw spoke just as many volumes. You’d seen them on T.V., spoken about them to your friends, even feared them on walks home from school growing up. These people were criminals, psychopaths… but they were your parents. And to find out the man who’d been raising you was no ordinary man, either, was more than you could handle. There was far too much information to wrap your head around, causing you to feel faint all over again.

While it all seemed like some far fetched story to hold you hostage for some kind money or precious item from Bruce, you had more reason to believe them than not. They didn’t ask for anything, they didn’t necessarily keep you there against your will. As Harley set the cloth down, she stared at you the way only a mother could; a way you’d never felt before. It was then that you knew it had to be true.

Maybe it was it was vulnerability you were feeling, maybe it was the lack of being able to process things correctly. But you sat up, ignoring the head rush that plagued you and wrapped your arms around Harley in a tight embrace. Her arms immediately engulfed your frame, and you felt the smallest sob swell in her chest against you.

Tears pricked your own waterline as she held you, petting the back of your hair tenderly. Suddenly, you felt at home. As though the cosmos had aligned and put you exactly where you needed to be. You loved your father, you always would; but a new door seemed to present itself to you, even if it was in the form of a kidnapping. For a moment you began to wonder if the crazy ran through your blood, too, for thinking that way. The voices kicked up again, and you winced, bringing your hands to either side of your head quickly.

“It’s tha’ voices, in-nit? Don’t worry, ya get used to ‘em after a while. In fact, they kinda become like built in friends,” the blonde grinned, and it was contagious as you found yourself grinning back.

“Alright, enough of the chit chat..” The Joker said, turning to face you both as he pulled a gun from the worn out leather holster. “We’re going to have a very angry Bat on our hands, Harls…”

She sighed, the usual chipperness you’d seen in her on television seemingly gone for a moment.

“Why don’t we just bring her back, puddin’? Now that she knows everythin’, he’s gotta let her decide!”

“Are you crazy?” He asked her, clearly amused at his own joke.

She looked a him with a blank expression, as though he were serious. “Well, yeah.”

#joker x reader #jared leto joker #fanfiction #the joker #joker fanfiction #harley quinn #jared leto #suicide squad #fanfic #one shot #joker one shot #the joker fandom #jared leto fanfiction #joker #the joker one shot #joker fandom

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redrobinfection · 6 years

Text

Coffee, Coffee Everywhere, Pt 9

<< Part 8

Steph plucked at the strapless bra that was starting to dig into her ribs and sighed gratefully as the cool air of the ice cream shop they’d just entered washed over her flushed face. The other ‘batkids’ filed in behind her, dressed to the nines and newly escaped from one of the many infamous galas Bruce demanded they attend to keep up outward appearances.

Dick, Tim, Damian and Cass were all required to attend, of course, as official members of the Wayne family, but they’d found sufficient excuses to drag her and Jason in as “plus-ones” for Cass and Tim respectively, and Babs had already been in attendance - it was a charity gala benefiting the GCPD, as it happened - so they’d had the whole gang in one place for once.

That fact hadn’t sat too well with Oracle - who had called in the Birds of Prey to cover the city while the Batfam schmoozed - or with Batman, for that matter, so after the Gala, the two of them had headed straight back to watching over the streets of Gotham. The kids, on the other hand, had made a beeline for the their favorite late-night ice cream parlor, fancy dresses, tuxes, and all.

Steph’s beautiful one-shoulder, deep eggplant dress looked kickass [1] - Cass and Tim had helped her pick it out the week before - but she was so done with the clingy folds of silk and the tight bodice.

“Welcome to Gotham City Scoops,” the freckly guy behind the counter welcomed them. “What can I get for you guys tonight?”

“Ahhh,” Dick looked around at each of them expectantly, then stepped forward to act as the de facto spokesperson of their group. “I have a pretty good idea of what I want, so I’ll order first to give you guys a minute, yeah?”

Damian and Cass nodded. Jason attacked the bow tie at his throat with a vengeance while Tim squinted up at the menu board. Steph turned her attention to the menu, keeping half an ear tuned-in to hear the others’ orders so as to maybe steal an idea for her own.

Dick ordered his customary double scoop of rocky road, then turned to the rest of the group expectantly. Nobody stepped up. Steph kept her eyes firmly fixed on the forty-two flavors above their heads.

“Come on, guys. I’ll pay - my treat - but anyone who doesn’t get their order in before I finish my cone is on their own,” Dick warned them, licking a wide stripe up the side of his ice cream with an over-the-top stink-eye. Jason snorted at the goofy expression and Cass favored them with a small smile. She stepped up next, pointing soundlessly to the grass-green matcha ice cream and holding up two fingers for two scoops.

Rocky road? Matcha? No, Steph wasn’t feeling either of those. She glanced over at Jason, who ran both hands through his slicked back hair, subconsciously mussing it back to normal again as he considered his choices.

Steph turned her head at the sound of Damian’s voice. The kid had stepped forward, but he quickly retreated and tapped a finger against his mouth.

“I think.…maybe that…hmm, no, perhaps not,” Damian equivocated. Steph giggled.

“Havin’ trouble deciding, kiddo? Which ones are you split over?”

Damian whirled to glare at her then turned back with a huff. “Of course not, Brown. I’m not a child. I was simply weighing the merits of consuming chocolate at this hour versus not.”

The clerk raised an eyebrow at Damian’s verbiage but looked relieved when the kid finally stepped up to the counter.

“I’ll have a double scoop of french vanilla, please.”

Steph laughed. “All that for plain vanilla, Dami?”

Damian thanked the clerk for the cone then turned to glare at her. “Vanilla is not a plain flavor, Stephanie Brown. There are subtleties to the flavor that take a discerning palate and much patience to appreciate.”

“Nah. If I ever had to eat vanilla ice cream as a kid, I always drowned it in chocolate sauce and sprinkles,” Steph replied, grinning when it got the expected rise out of Damian.

“Sacrilege!”

“Tasty,” Dick chimed in around a mouthful of Rocky Road. Cass stepped up to Damian and laid an understanding hand on his shoulder. Damian murmured his mutual appreciation for Cass’ “refined palate” and flavor choice and then turned away from the rest of them.

That left only Jason, Tim, and herself to pick. Steph studied the board again for a moment then found her eyes drifting to Tim. A sudden thought had her smirking smugly.

“Well… at least we all know what Tim’s going to get, even if he’ll play coy and wait until after everyone’s ordered to make it seem like he didn’t have his eye on the prize the entire time.”

Tim turned to her with eyebrows raised and Jason laughed.

Coffee ice cream. It was a classic flavor, and Steph knew it was Tim’s favorite. Heck, even she liked a good mocha chip every now and then. Tim stepped up to the counter. Dick nodded knowingly and Damian shook his head silently. Steph grinned. Everyone knew what was coming…

“I’ll have a double scoop of the salted caramel and vanilla, please,” Tim requested with a polite smile.

The family froze at the unexpected plot twist. They stared, lost for words as the server tacitly retrieved a clean scoop and a fresh cone. Jason finally broke the thick silence with a chuckle as he stepped up beside Tim.

“And I’ll have a double scoop of strawberry, please,” Jason added. He turned to Tim. “Wow, Timbo, color me impressed - you actually skipped the coffee for once!”

Tim grimaced. “I don’t eat ‘coffee everything, all the time, always’ - give me a break!”

Steph blinked. Dick scratched the back of his head. Cass shrugged and turned her attention back to her ice cream.

“Well, forgive us if all of your wild ideas over the past few weeks have set a certain precedent,” Damian remarked drily.

“Yeah, really!” Jason agreed. “All other coffee experiments aside, I thought coffee ice cream was you favorite? Why the switch up?”

“Coffee is my favorite flavor, yes, and it always will be, but it’s late, I’m tired, I’m actually sleepy for once, I don’t feel like giving myself a caffeine buzz - however minute that would be from flavored ice-cream - and” - he paused momentarily to thank the clerk as he handed Tim his cone - “I actually really like the salted caramel here,” Tim explained coolly. He took large lick of the ice cream with a grateful hum. "Thanks for buying, Dick.”

A chorus of ‘thank you’s followed Tim’s. Dick chuckled and waved them off as he bit into the top of his cone. “Y’re w'lcome,” Dick slurred as around the bite. He swallowed and winked over at Tim. “It’s good to see you enjoying some variety, Timmy. Maybe I’ll try the salted caramel next time since you like it enough to pick it over coffee of all things.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I didn’t pick it over coffee; I’m just not feeling-”

Dick waved his freehand as if to swat away the words. “No, no, no, let us have this moment. Please.”

Tim laughed, shrugged, and turned back to his cone. Meanwhile, Steph felt as stunned as she would if someone had thrown a brick at her face and then run off without a word. Of all the times for Tim to break with form and be spontaneous…

“Steph?”

Steph jerked slightly, turning toward the sound. “Are you going to get anything?” Tim asked her. Steph glanced around - everyone was staring expectantly - then looked back to Tim, who was studying her with a little concern.

“Yeah, Steph. This ice cream is almost devoured; if you’re gonna get anything, now’s the time to do it,” Dick reminded her with a grin, taking another large bite out of the rapidly disappearing cone.

Steph floundered. What did she want? What was she in the mood for? She scanned the board, but nothing popped out at her. Rocky Road? No. Vanilla? Ha ha, no. Strawberry? No. Peanut Butter Fudge? No, not tonight. Chocolate? Not quite…

Steph stepped up to the counter slowly, shaking her head and feeling renewed heat suffuse her slowly cooling cheeks as she finally came to a decision. Dick popped the tip of the cone into his mouth and stepped up to the register.

“Last chance, Steph. What’s is gonna be?”

“I-I’ll have, uhhh…” - she grimaced, then forced herself finish - “a single scoop of mocha chip, please.”

There was a beat of silence, then Tim laughed out loud and Jason snorted shortly after him. Dick shook his head as he pulled out his credit card. Damn. They’re not gonna give me any peace for the rest of the night, are they?

Nope. Of course not. “Welcome to the Dark Side, St-” Tim began, a shit-eating grin on his smug little face.

“Shut up,” Steph barked at him, waving her newly acquired cone in his face like a weapon. Tim chuckled, but backed off.

She licked at her cone sullenly during the silence descended over the group as they all focused on enjoying their frozen treats - all except for Dick, who flitted off to the bathroom to wash his hands. After a few licks of delicious coffee and chocolate chips blended with cool, sweet cream, Steph dared to argue back, “Well, hey, at least I only got a single scoop while the rest of you got two; that has to count for someth-”

“No.” Tim shook his head at her with mock seriousness and an amused twinkle to his eyes. A chorus of other ‘no’s and a tsk from Damian followed.

“But-”

Tim laughed and shook a finger at her with a grin. “Nope!”

AN: I have no idea if these guys have any canon favorite ice cream flavors - I was just making these up as I went. If you know of any canon favorite flavors, or you have some headcanons, send me an ask - I’m curious!

I originally planned this drabble to be the conclusion to the Coffee, Coffee Everywhere series, but I keep coming up with new ideas in spite of myself so… once I catch up on all the writing, this series will return ;)

This is the dress I imagined Steph would wear to the gala, in case you missed the link in the text: https://www.jjshouse.com/Sheath-Column-One-Shoulder-Floor-Length-Charmeuse-Bridesmaid-Dress-With-Beading-Cascading-Ruffles-007051842-g51842?filterColor=grape

Part 10 >>

#christmasriverswrites #my writing #stephanie brown #tim drake #batfamily #coffee coffee everywhere #mine #fluff

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roguepythia · 7 years

Text

Meta: Characterizations to Cling to

rose-for-dead-alice replied to your post “Honestly though, I was a hardcore Spuffy shipper. S6 wrecked our shit...”

Honestly yeah as much as I kind of hate the loss of a potential canon gay romance on a hit TV show....At least it isn't like what Buffy did with that attempted rape scene, Buffy got way too sexual and I always felt so violated by that part of the show.

So many people felt the same! And “violated” is the perfect word choice too. It’s exactly how the entire fandom felt.

Putting this under a read more as I meta about Spuffy and Nygmobblepot characterizations, world-breaking, and fandom/show relationships. It’s a long one people, grab a snack first.

BtVS S6 just got so dark, dealing with themes like self-hate and using sex as self-punishment. They had spent the entire season completely objectifying Spike and turning him into basically a giant sex toy. And made it seem all “a-okay” to do cause he’d had his own sex toy for awhile in the Buffybot. Plus, Buffy was the “hero” so she “couldn’t” do any wrong. It was all Spike’s fault that he was willing to put up with it. Either because he loved her so much he was willing to take on her pain or he was a monster that couldn’t tell the difference between love and self-hate therefore didn’t think she was doing anything wrong. Considering his keen ability to see through the bullshit my take was the first. He knew she was hurting and wanted to take that pain from her, if he got his leg over in the process so much the better for him.

And then they pulled the rug out from under us when all of sudden he attacks her. They completely ignore all of their world-building to make him out to be the bad guy that can’t see where the line is, when she’s been crossing it all season. Even though at his most evil self he had limits. And then it’s been proven that Buffy is 10x more powerful than Spike but because she got a little banged up earlier that night, all of a sudden he can overpower her? It was also so completely out of character for both of them. Buffy the “hit first, ask questions later” Slayer begging Spike “Love’s Bitch” to stop rather than just kicking him through the wall. Which she can do as she’s a Slayer. Which leads me to my next point.

The audience reaction. They didn’t make this show in a vacuum. There was an audience and a large fanbase. As a college-aged young woman watching this show, I identified with Buffy. She was for my generation what Wonder Woman is now to this one. We looked up to her. She fought the good fight. She stood up to right the wrongs of the “demons” that tried to take her power. She was a metaphor for girls to say to themselves, “I matter. I have power. I have a voice!” So of course when she gets attacked like that, by someone who claims to love her, we all feel attacked as well.

And the Spike fans were doubly betrayed. We identified with Buffy and Spike. The Heroine and the Outsider. They had been such a powerful team and Spike was on his redemption journey already. He spent the entire summer being The Protector to her younger sister and asked for nothing in return except for someone to buy him Wheetabix every once in awhile. Yes, he was still a demon but he was fighting his nature to be something better than himself. Even without a soul he was still trying. That character development was completely destroyed in one scene. The only way to reconcile what happened was to headcanon that even Spike was so appalled by his own behavior that he sought his soul. He basically said, “THIS ISN’T WHO I AM! Screw this, I’m outta here.” Which as noted by the below, might have been their plan.

The following quotes are from the wiki page on this ep and very enlightening as apparently the scene was shot in such a way as to evoke sympathy for Spike....while he was attempting to rape Buffy. Let that sink in.

In the DVD commentary, James Marsters said that filming the scene in which Spike attempts to rape Buffy was one of the hardest he ever had to do. He has since said that he will never do such a scene again. That scene has also generated controversy between fans and the writers,[2] but writer Jane Espenson says that moment was necessary to set up a powerful motivation for Spike's quest to gain a soul.[3] As James Marsters points out, "How do you motivate him [to] make a mistake that’s so heart-rending that he’d be willing to do that?"[4]

Marsters would later say in 2012 that he understood the idea to have come from "a female writer, [who] had a situation in her life where she was and her boyfriend were breaking up and she decided if she just made love to him one more time, that they wouldn't break up. She ended up trying to force herself on him and decided to write about that. The thing is, if you flip it and make it a man forcing himself on a woman, I believe it becomes a whole different thing... I'm not really sure it expressed what the author was intending and on that score it was not successful." [5]

In her essay on sex and violence in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Gwyn Symonds calls the scene itself "technically and emotionally intricate" in that, unlike most depictions of attempted rape, it "encourages a complex audience engagement with both... the perpetrator and the victim."[6] The action was "very carefully choreographed" according to James Marsters,[4] with the camera alternating between close-ups of Buffy and Spike separately to reinforce the audience's shifting empathy with both Buffy and Spike.[6] Writer Rebecca Rand Kirshner agrees that the viewer "could feel how [Spike's] very innards were twisted into this perversion of what he wanted," and she found that experiencing the scene from his perspective was additionally disturbing.[7]

The above makes it clear that the most egregious crime of that scene was against the fans. Not only was it bad decision making on several levels to portray an attacker as a victim but to also believe that you can swap genders in such a scene without a problem. But the most obscene aspect of all, is the world-breaking. In the Buffyverse, Spike is a Demon. Buffy is a Slayer. They are NOT HUMAN. They don’t live by human rules. But the fans are human and we do live in a sometimes ugly, cruel world. By making these supernatural creatures act within human boundaries, the analogies were broken. It was no longer a metaphor. This brought a show that wasn’t just steeped in supernatural elements but solidly based in them, kicking and screaming into the “real world”.

The fandom reacted. All of a sudden fans were labeled “rape apologists” or had to relive the most harrowing moments of their lives to explain how deeply the show had hurt them. Sometimes both. I don’t think the show or the fandom ever recovered. It was a breech of trust that the show writers could never mend.

Even now as writers for the show head other projects, BtVS fans know who they are and what they’ve done. When I found out Steven S. DeKnight was taking over directing duties for Del Toro on Pacific Rim 2, I wanted to barf. Now the story I love about all of humanity coming together to fight a common foe; full of love and pathos, resolute in its determination to never give up, to go down swinging, to stand up and maybe even pay the ultimate sacrifice to protect those that cannot..... “Today we are cancelling the apocalypse!“ Now it’s in his hands. It’s now going to take a dark and twisted turn full of some type of self loathing and hatred, I’m sure of it. Ug. Fifteen years later and I’m still so appalled at how all this went down.

And if anyone is still reading this long essay at this point, (you get a virtual cookie) but I guess you’re wondering how this all relates to Nygmobblepot. Well, my main point of contention about the above is that they took the characters out of their world. They took supernatural creatures and made them act as if they were human. It wasn’t just that it was OOC for both characters, it wasn’t BtVS either.

The Nygmobblepot and Gotham fandoms are “alive”. Our feelings about the show, the characters, and the fandom itself shift with each new piece of content we receive. And unfortunately, we receive this content in a lot more ways now.

When BtVS was around, we didn’t have “social media”. Facebook didn’t even exist until one year after BtVS concluded. There wasn’t a twitter page dangling our ship in front of us with colored hearts and cute images or coy phrases. There was an on-line presence, yes, but fans only really interacted with fans and fansites. We didn’t have a direct line to the creators and/or actors on the show on a daily basis like we do now. And maybe we were better off? It is a double edged sword. We can now make our voices heard so much easier but then we are subjected to constant pandering to get “all eyes focused here!!” so advertisers can rake in the money every time we click on a site.

But that isn’t part of the show itself. It’s not. It’s the social media arm run by the PR department, whose job it is to generate buzz and a “click this!!” mentality. And it works! Every time we get sucked in and think something said on those sites will have some correlation to what happens on the show. And that’s not the case. We don’t even know if the PR team knows what will happen in the episodes before they post. For all we know, they have no clue. Somehow we’ve forgotten they are two separate things and the creators need to be reminded of this as well. Because looking back through the social media posts is painful. And it didn’t need to be that way.

The show itself has actually managed to do the one thing that BtVS could not, and that is to keep their world in tact. After everything that has happened to Oz and Ed, through it all, they have remained in character. The world hasn’t shifted out from under them, nor us. They are still who they’ve always been at their core. Even Ed, who is searching for his identify, has been handled in a way that stays true to his Gotham characterization.

There is a lot that can be said about how the story unfolded and how it didn’t go the way we wanted. Many sectors of the fandom are legitimately angry. Many of us, myself included, were casual viewers until this ship jumped off the screen at us. And it wasn’t social media that sucked us in. It was Robin and Cory’s portrayal of these two broken, damaged villains finding each other that spoke to us. Knowing that even if you are “irredeemable”, there is still someone out there for you. That there truly is a “lid for every pot”. It was that connection we fell in love with, romance or not. And now this beautiful friendship seems to have been ruined for little to no payoff. But at least the story line still all made some kind of sense. I think I’ll be more upset at this point over a lack of explanation for Isabella than anything else.

And the reason why, is that the show hasn’t broken my trust. Their social media PR team can kiss my ass. But the show stayed true to itself and therefore us. It made Oswald canonically gay but never made him into someone he’s not nor made him do things he’d never conceive of. And poor Edward, who falls so easily and simply can’t help himself at times, continued his decent into madness and villainy. Oswald and Edward remained Oswald and Edward, much to Ed’s consternation.

The show makes it clear that this isn’t “the real world” pretty much on an episodic basis. “This is Gotham” isn’t just a catchphrase, it’s a way of life for these characters. It’s how the show is able to make us care about serial killers and psychopaths that we would run from if we met in “the real world”. Their world is filled with color and flair and the characters continue to reflect that. For all of the show’s purported faults in the story line this season, failure to understand their characterizations isn’t one of them. They have not committed the ultimate sin. At least not yet, not in my eyes. I guess we will see what the finale and S4 holds for us.

#nygmobblepot #gotham #meta #nygmobblepot meta #fandom meta #rose-for-dead-alice #thank you for the comment #it truly sparked a lot of feelings #I don't think I've ever written a meta this long before #wow #not everyone will agree #that's okay #let's just be good to each other

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inadequeer · 7 years

Text

title: Hang Me Up to Dry

relationships: jayroy

summary: When Jason happens to be state side training with another teacher Talia set up, he runs into someone from a past life.

a/n: Set during lost days. I wanted to write Jason helping Roy get clean instead of Dinah and Hal

[on ao3]

Star City was a shithole, but in a different way than Gotham was a shithole. Star City was where you went to make it big, and where you died of an overdose in swimming pool fifteen years later. A sprawling southern California city and the center of the nation’s film and television industry. Where Gotham had endless families of organized crime and psychopaths in masks, Star City just had crime, plain and simple. Gang bangers and Pushes ruled the city while the rich movie stars snorted cocaine in their beach homes and pretended the world didn’t exist outside of Star Hills.

The air reeked of pollution and sweat, and something left sitting out in the sun for too long. You couldn’t throw a rock without hitting a homeless person or an aspiring actor. Jason didn’t know if he would burn Gotham or Star City down first if he had the chance, at least Star City had beaches so you could at least pretend it was pretty Gotham didn't even have that. He was only here on business, he never would have set foot in the hole otherwise, learning how to make poisons and toxins from a cruel Chinese woman who doubled as a heroin supplier. (Another pointless errand from Talia.)

He was sprawling out on the couch watching some Spanish soap opera that he had gotten invested into while he waited for Soo to return, when he caught the tail-end of a conversation between two thugs who ran the streets for Soo, selling her product. In other words— scumbag drug dealers. They were both Mexican like him, one with a close shaved head and a tacky goatee, and the other was decked out in gang tattoos, including a tasteful teardrop inked onto his cheekbone.

“If we're short again this month, she’s going to kill us.”

“Relax. We just need to find Harper. He’s gotta be itching for his fix by now.”

“Haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe he finally ate it.”

“I hope not. He's a piece of shit, but he’s a regular.”

They whispered to each other in hushed Spanish— as if they thought because he was from Gotham he couldn’t understand them. The chatter was nothing interesting, but the name caught Jason’s attention. It was a name from a past life, a lazy grin, messy red hair, memories fleeting behind his eyes like a forgotten song. A person, he’d actually remembered a person, that almost never happened.

“Hola,” He greeted, stormy eyes bright and intense as he stood up and gave the two gangsters a casual grin. “Who’s Harper?” He asked in Spanish. They gave each other uneasy looks, unsure of what to do when cornered by an eighteen-year-old who looked ready to snap either of their necks.

“He’s just some white trash junkie. He’s a regular, but he hasn’t been seen for a while.” Jason cracked his knuckles and tried not to think about it, a mysterious someone slumped over a table, blood running down their nose with the needle still in the other hand.

“Can’t be a good business practice to off your regulars, but I guess that can’t be helped when you’re dealing drugs.” He mused to himself. After a month of working with Soo, it was clear that heroin was the deadliest thing she created. “What’s he look like? This Harper guy.”

“Like every other junkie living on the street. Why do you care kid?”

Jason whipped out his gun from the waistband of his pants and pointed it evenly at the first man’s chest without ever looking away. “Just answer the fucking question before I get mad.” He growled, finger tapping the trigger lightly. The one with the goatee responded by pulling out his gun, and snarling something at Jason. But the tattooed one just gave Jay a funny look.

“Hey hey— Whoa. Easy ese.” The tattooed guy said, raising both hands in the universal sign of ‘Don’t Shoot.’ “His name is Roy Harper I think, pasty, gangly sonovabitch with long red hair and usually wearing some stupid trucker hat.”

“I hear he’s a mutant.”

“Used to be one of those fucking superhero types, I heard, but now look at him. No better than the rest of us.” He scoffed, but Jason had stopped listening. Words weren’t his strong suit but Roy, that sounded right. So he had known… one of those hero types? How the hell? Had he really been in deep enough shit as a kid to get mixed up with capes?

Talia had told him not to go looking for his past. And she was right, it didn’t matter anymore, his past was just a distraction. But the opportunity was right there. What if this Roy had been his friend? And now he was hooked on some bad stuff. These guys said he was a regular, and if anyone knew what that looked like it was the sellers. Jason mulled this information over, chewing on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully before he finally made a decision. He slid his gun back into his waistband and gave the two of them a cheeky salute, tapping two fingers to his temple and then extending the hand towards them.

“Well, that’s all I need to know. Thanks a million you guys.”

Jason had learned (remembered?) a long time ago that if you wanted to find a junkie the best place to look was Chinatown, so that was his first stop. He wasn’t sure what was really driving him to find Roy, god knows he had more important things on his plate than some barely remembered junkie, but Jason had so few shreds of his old life left to him. No matter who he is, this Roy deserved better than dying alone in the gutter.

Anger boiled inside of him, as he swerved through lanes of Star City traffic in his motorcycle.

Just like home he thought bitterly pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up. Every big city in the world had their ‘bad parts of town’ and they were all pretty much the same, and no matter how hard he had tried he had never escaped — not really. He had made sure to park in the more touristy area because he wasn’t a complete dumbass and he didn’t want his bike stolen. From there he looked for the shadier areas, back alleys and rundown shops and the like. If you knew what to look for picking a drug dealer in a crowded street no problem. He watched a hooded man make a sale, palming off cash for a packet of white powder before he approached.

“You sellin’ smack?” He asked in a hushed voice, making a show of looking paranoid, and glancing around.

“Aren’t you a little young for H kid?” Great, a drug dealer with a conscience. Not where he expected a morality lecture.

“Who cares?” He snapped, crossing his arms. “If you’re too high and mighty to sell to a “kid” like me I’ll just go find someone else.”

“Hey, slow down it’s not like that. You have the money?” Jason reached into his pocket, then to his other and winced.

“Shit.”

“Sorry kid, you don’t have the cash you’re shit out of luck.”

“Please man! I just gotta find a buddy of mine, you know a guy named Roy Harper? He owes me big time, once I find him I’ll be able to pay the rest. Maybe you could float me until then?”

“No way in hell mijo, but if you want to get that money you’re owed be my guest. I know Harper and there’s a loft just south of here— old brick building where he and a couple’a other junkies go to shoot up. You go get your money and I’ll be right here.” Jason looked pained, ran a hand across his brow, where he didn’t even have to pretend to be sweating since it was hot as hell outside.

“Fine. Fuck you man.” He snapped, stalking off in the direction he had been pointed. The act dropped but his scowl didn’t. Shit. What the hell was he getting into. He shouldn’t care about some random ass junkie he didn’t even know anymore. So why did he anyway? Maybe he wanted to be the good guy for once. Maybe because he knew what it was like to die alone.

Either way he didn’t stop, not until he was in front of the boarded-up brick building and forcing the door open. There was probably a secret entrance people used, but when you had super strength you don’t need a secret entrance. The smell of garbage, mold, and piss hit him and he groaned out loud. Yep, just like home, he thought as he pulled his shirt up over his nose, and flicked on the flashlight on his phone. He had stayed in places like this, he remembered that now. Jason had suspected he was from the street for a while now and this was only confirming it. Honestly he wasn’t surprised; how could anyone forget a smell like that, how it clung to you wherever you went, filling your senses and suffocating you.

Jason picked his way through the building carefully. From what he could tell it was an old department store, leaking pipes drooping from the ceiling and half assembled mannequins watching him with their painted on eyes and Jason didn’t care for that shit at all. The dealer had said they shot up in the loft, so finding the first floor empty wasn’t surprising. He moved towards the stairs, his gaze sweeping across the empty room with what some might call paranoia. He just wasn’t a fan of dolls, mannequins, or bugs and could you blame him? No.

He was staring at a large black blob on one of the mannequins naked bodies trying to determine if it was a gargantuan cockroach or not when he stumbled on a disembodied mannequin head with a loud crash as he swore and grabbed the closest thing next to him. Which was a portion of the rotted wooden staircase, which he easily tore off as he fell.

“Fuck! Fuck shit son of a piss fucking bitch—“ He seethed, throwing the ruined wood to ground and jumping to his feet. Well if anyone thought they were alone in this building they sure as hell didn’t anymore. He was immensely grateful that no one had been there to see that as he brushed himself off and tried to calm down. “Okay, there was my heart attack of the day. Let’s not do this again.” He muttered to himself, shaking his head. He climbed the stairs, scanned the second floor before continuing upward. The building had five stories, and when he did finally get to the top floor he knew this was the right place. Tables were set up set up and littered with old Chinese food boxes and other garbage, with a couple of lamps scattered about, connected to long orange power strips that ran around the whole room. There was a shitty couch pushed up against the wall. It was clearly the place the dealer had been talking about, but it was empty, and judging by the smell of that take out, no one had been back here in days

“Damnit.” He hissed, climbing out onto the fire escape, unable to bear the smell any longer. The sun had set by now but it was still hot, street lights lighting up the city just as well as the sun. He took a moment to clear his head and think about where else he could look, probably the shelters, ask some other junkies if they knew Roy. When he stepped off the metal and landed in the road below he heard a low groan from behind a pile of trash and a couple of garbage cans.

“Unnnn…” Jason kicked the cans out of the way and the person who had been hiding behind it flinched backwards. Jason got a look at him from the light thrown down the alley by a passing car. He was scrawny, and dressed in a shitty tank top and tucker hat, with long red hair and green tattoos decorating his biceps.

“Roy.” He breathed out. Holy shit. Just seeing the guy’s face was bringing a burst of memories, if only scraps. Roy’s grin, his jawline when it was shaved, his laugh, Jason’s pulse racing at the sight of his arms…

Oh, god, oh god. Roy had been. His crush. Well, that answered the question of if dying had made him gay.

"Please tell me you're here to kill me,” present Roy moaned. This Roy was hardly recognizable from the snapshots remembered. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who had been to hell in these last few years.

“Nope. Sorry.” He reached out a hand to help Roy up, but he smacked it away.

“Fuck.” Roy swore vehemently, “If you’re not going to kill me then get me some goddamn drugs.” He whispered, his voice hoarse, his chapped lips cracking and bleeding. “Please, please please please. Common man, I’m dying here. I’ll do anything.” Jason grit his teeth and this time just fucking grabbed Roy.

“Not gonna do that either. Come on.”

“Get off me man! Let me go!” Roy snarled.

“I’m trying to save your life asshole!” Jason yelled back, shaking Roy violently, and sending him cross eyed.

“Fuck, oh fuck. Ouch it hurts, it hurts it hurts!” He sobbed, gripping his stomach and falling to his knees in pain. As he pulled Roy up once more another car drove past, once again casting it’s headlights down the alley and illuminating the them. Roy went pale and stumbled backwards.

“You’re—!!” He choked out, staring up at Jason in shock. “You’re supposed to be dead. No this isn't real, you’re dead.” He insisted to himself. Jason didn’t argue with him on that front, he was clearly going through withdrawal and right now Jason’s priority was to get him off the street. He picked Roy up easily, the guy was thin as a rail and even without super strength Jason probably still would have been able to lift him like he weighed nothing.

“Jason…? Jason I’m sorry.” Roy was babbling, clinging to the fabric of Jason’s sweatshirt desperately and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. This was a bad idea. If Roy ended up telling everyone he was alive that would really throw a wrench in things. Roy probably knew other mask types and that was a group he did not want up in his business.

“I don’t know who Jason is man, my name is Peter Reyes.” The lie felt wrong on his lips but it’s what he had to do. Better to let the world think he was still dead.

“Oh…”

“I think you’re going through withdrawal. How do you feel?”

“Cold, Shit— Ahn my gut is on fire.” He grimaced, and Jason nodded. All symptoms of heroin withdrawal.

“Alright, I’m gonna get you some place safe. Hold tight buddy.” He adjusted Roy on his shoulder, hoping the man wouldn’t throw up on his hoodie and walked south until he found a shitty motel. He helped Roy lean against the outside of the front desk and gave him a stern look.

“Wait here okay. I’m gonna get us a room.” Roy didn’t answer, instead he doubled over in pain his shoulders shuddering as tremors ran through his body.

The woman at the front desk didn’t even blink as she handed Jason the room key, and Jason figured she had seen a hell of lot weirder things. He dragged Roy up to room and to the bathroom, helping him kneel over to toilet as he began to wretch, holding his greasy hair out of his face.

Deja-vu made his head spin, the feeling like he’d been in this exact same situation before and when he looked down it wasn’t Roy puking into the shitty hotel toilet it was… some woman, with messy hair dyed bright red and smeared makeup. She looked like she had been crying, and looking at her made Jason feel angry and sad at the same time. She had the same track marks up her arms that Roy did, and the look she gave Jason was a complicated mix of pity and disgust.

“Drink some water.” Jason grunted, his brain snapping back to the present, to the man before him. “You need to stay hydrated.”

“Thanks…” Roy said wearily, taking the water bottle Jason pushed into his hands. He took a few slow sips, his hands still shaking before he asked “Do I know you? You said you’re not Ja— who I thought you were so who are you? I don’t know any Peter Reyes. Did Angel send you? Because you can tell him to go fuck himself.”

“Don’t know any angel. I’m just a guy who wants to help.”

“Yeah sure, and I'm Superman. What were you doing snooping around in that place anyway?” Even going through withdrawal he was still observant as hell. Jason had a feeling that Roy was a hell of a lot smarter than he let on.

“None of your business."

“Right, whatever guess I’m in no position to argue. So why are you doing this? I assume you’re trying to help me and you’re not actually a deranged psycho killer who brought me here to rape and murder me and then leave my disfigured body in the bathtub, because right now this whole situation kind of reads like a Criminal Minds episode.” Jason snorted at that and shook his head.

“Nah, you’re not worth the trouble.”

“Wow, fuckin’ rude.” Roy’s laugh was thin but genuine and he pushed himself up a little so he was leaning against the sink. “But seriously, what do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“I saw, fuh-fuck shit… I saw you jump out of that building. You a mutant?” He grunted gratefully when Jason brought over the comforter from off the bed and let him wrap himself in it. “You know about me? You gotta… That’s- that’s why you came. You want me to build you somethin’.” So he had a tech mutation or something? Jason was lucky that he had recognized Roy’s name, the fact that he couldn’t remember the details of his mutation— or if he was a mutant wasn’t surprising.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what is it. Why the fuck are you doing this?”

“Maybe I was hoping that you’d, y’know… Fall in love with me.” Jason wasn’t sure why he said it, and the second he did he felt like a fucking idiot, but he smiled boyishly and owned it. Roy laughed out loud when he said it and Jason liked that laugh.

“Oh yeah, that is such bullshit.” He said, grinning as he wiped his runny nose and scratched his face. “Trust me kid you don’t want me to fall in love with you. My ex-wife can tell you that much.”

Jason just shrugged in response, sitting down in front of Roy on the hard tile floor with a sigh.

“Can I ask you something?”

Roy raised a curious eyebrow but shrugged. “Sure.”

“Who’s— Who was Jason? The person you thought I was…” There was something in Roy’s eyes that he couldn’t place— grief maybe. Over some street rat kid like him?

“He was a kid I knew…” Roy looked up at the ceiling for a moment, shifting restlessly. “He was a good kid, he was smart, god he was so smart, and he was funny and brave, like crazy brave, like run into a burning house and save the puppy brave… and he died when he was fifteen.” Jason swallowed hard and looked down at his hands. “I used to be one of those superheroes you know, running around in a mask and shit— I know right, funny huh. I knew it was dangerous but none of that had ever seemed real until he… He saved my ass when we were kids, this one time in Pasadena he pushed me out of the way of some gunfire and ended up getting his dumb ass shot.”

Jason’s side tingled, his body remembering the sensation of a bullet passing through it. “He never let me hear the end of it, always making jabs at me reminding me how I owed him my life and how he got shot for me and shit but I never got to thank him, not genuinely you know? That eats at me every day. I think if he ever saw me now, and how I ended up he would kick my ass. ‘I saved your life for this? So you could become some piece of shit junkie?!’ but he showed us all what it really meant to be a hero. To wear the mask.” Roy shook his head to himself and Jason was shocked into silence. Was that really how he was remembered? As a hero? The thought left him shook to his very core and suddenly he couldn’t stand to hear about it anymore. He had to get away. He pushed himself up so violently it startled Roy.

“You don’t know that… Maybe he wasn’t as great as you think.” He said through his clenched jaw, his fists curled into a tight ball before he crossed the small distance to the hotel room door and slammed it behind him. He scrubbed angrily at his face, rubbing his eyes until he saw stars behind his eyelids. Then he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit up, taking a long drag and letting it burn to the filter before he even considered going back inside that room. He smoked a second cigarette before he did, slower this time his hands no longer shaking.

This was a mistake. Coming to this city was a mistake, looking for Roy was a mistake. Fuck even just leaving Talia’s protection was a mistake. He would take being a blood bag for fucking Ra’s over this feeling. It felt like it was eating him inside out, hollowing him and filling the hole with molten rock. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to start a fight, he wanted to run. He smoked another cigarette instead.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!! He ground the cigarette out on the wall of the motel with venom (the stucco was already disgusting, another black mark wouldn’t make a difference) before he came back inside. The smell of cigarette smoke drifting in with him, clinging to his clothes and making Roy sit up straighter, his fingers itching at his arms idly.

“You good?”

“Yeah. Just needed a smoke.”

“Got one for me?”

“My last one, sorry.” It was a deadass lie and Roy knew it, but he didn’t push the issue. “I’m gonna order pizza. What do you want?”

“Pineapple, anchovies with mushroom.”

“You’re disgusting. No, fuck you we’re getting meat lovers.” The ghost of a smile played on Roy’s lips and he shrugged.

“Whatever you say bossman.”

#jayroy #mutant batfam au #hang me up to dry #mine #mine: writing #jason todd #roy harper #side note star city = LA

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