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littleoddwriter · 3 years

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Hello dear! Can i request a Roman Sionis X Male!Reader where the reader is a metahuman with the ability of manipulating blood (aka a vampire) and tries to hide it from his lover until Roman finds out when Reader saves him from a mobster? Fluff please + Roman as proud as hell of his lover? Thanks in advance!

Life's Good | Roman Sionis x VampireMale!Reader

I am so sorry it took me so long to finally write this! I'm slowly catching up with the last few requests I've received before my break. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I've done with it (I admit, it got a little away from me because I was super invested in the scenario I came up with, so it is probably less fluffy than you may have wanted, sorry)!

summary; see above.

notes; CW // Blood-Drinking (mild Dub-Con for that at first); Gun Violence; Being Threatened; Murder (not graphic). Vampires; Kind of angsty?; Fluff; Aftercare (non-sexual, but you know, after feeding from someone).

Unlike most people would think you’ve actually been born this way. Your parents were vampires, conceiving you naturally, which of course meant you’d been born a metahuman. You’ve lived quite a normal life, despite the fact that instead of eating, drinking and sleeping like other humans would, you only slept rarely, only ate people food when you had to fit in, and otherwise you fed from humans, drinking their blood. You’d never killed anyone with it, though. Enough people who wanted you to feed from them existed, establishments were you could find them were all around the world. It was a pretty good life.

Still, you usually opted to keep it secret, unsure as to how people might react. While the general opinion of vampires has changed in all these centuries, standing in front of one was still a wholly different thing for most. You understood and respected that.

So when you met Roman – his scent so enticing, you had trouble keeping your fangs in – you stood in front of the question once again. Should you tell him?

Eventually, you decided to go with the flow and see where it’d take you. You didn’t immediately want to ruin your chances with him before you’ve actually gotten to know him at all.

At first it was a casual relationship anyway, no need to tell him your big secret then. But as time went on, your relationship became more serious. You stayed over at his loft more frequently, forced to eat his food and drink his beverages, so as not to let him suspect anything. It didn’t hurt you or anything, it was just unnecessary and you’d never get really used to, well, actual food and such. All the different textures and tastes and what you could do with what to change it. It was fascinating, but not exactly your favourite thing.

Of course, one fateful day it had all come to a head.

You had just admitted to yourself that you loved Roman a couple of weeks ago, not daring to say anything to him, as you didn’t fancy ruining what you two had with those three simple, yet powerful words.

Now though, you regretted that decision more than ever, terrified that maybe you would never be able to tell him how you felt.

It all happened so fast, too. One moment, you and Roman were out on the streets, way into the evening, having just had dinner at an expensive restaurant he’d invited you to; and you were laughing, talking about something – you couldn’t remember what – when you turned into an alleyway. In the next moment, a rival mob boss shot at the two of you. Warning shots, missing you both on purpose.

“What the fuck?!” Roman exclaimed, livid, but you could smell the underlying anxiety change his usual scent from when he was enraged. You hated it.

The gang leader – whatwashisface, you could never keep up – stood now in front of you two, having Roman at gunpoint. His men had surrounded you two, pointing their guns at both of you.

“What do you want?” Sionis spat at the other mob boss, glaring at him with a piercing, wild look in his eyes.

You stayed silent, your hands raised out of instinct. The bullets wouldn’t be able to kill you, unless they were specifically made for it, but that was so unlikely, you weren’t overly worried. You were concerned about Roman, though, anxious that this might have been it.

“Set an example, that’s what. You can’t scare us into submission. You can’t control us. You really think getting a hold of the East End would give you enough power to do that? Fuck you, I say!” the leader yelled.

“Well, fucking go on then if you’re really so tough! Or are you only bark and no bite? Cowardly ambushing me in private like that, I’m inclined to believe you are nothing but a talker. You can’t scare me either, you fuck.” You really wished Roman would shut up for once, lest he’d really get himself killed this time.

Your mind was racing with all possible outcomes this situation could bring. Only one was sure to get Roman out alive; and boy were you glad you’ve fed from someone yesterday.

Even though you had never killed anyone and didn’t desire to do so, you were ready to do anything for Roman, no matter what. You didn’t care that he’d know then, know that you were a freak of nature, as some hateful people liked to call people like you. You didn’t care that you’d take lives. They weren’t innocent, dared to threaten your love and you just couldn’t see past that.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, focusing your abilities into play and onto every single man of this rival gang. It was rare for you to use any of your powers that didn’t exist and activate naturally, like your strength. Your parents had taught you to only use them for self defence and this situation was practically screaming for it.

Snapping your eyes back open, now glowing red, all of the men around you gasped and crumbled, letting their weapons clatter to the ground, grasping at their throats, or chest, trying so hard to save themselves. Moments later, they were all just lifeless bodies, lying around Roman and you, as if you were some victorious kings. And in a way, you were exactly that, weren’t you? Roman was soon to be the King of Gotham after all.

All too suddenly, all the strength left your body, your legs giving out. Roman, despite his apparent shock, caught you, steadied you. Gently, he lowered you to the ground, keeping his arms tightly wound around you.

It had taken a lot more out of you than you had anticipated. You desperately needed to feed.

“Y/N? Baby, hey, look at me,” Roman spoke softly, something only reserved for you, you had come to realise.

With half-lidded eyes, you looked up at him, a strained sound passing your lips. “You okay?” you asked, still unsure if everything had truly worked out the way you thought it would.

He scoffed, “Yes, quit worrying about me. Are you okay? What the fuck was that anyway?”

“Just gotta eat,” you murmured, slurring your words heavily, “Sorry about the- that. I’ll explain later.”

“What do you mean you have to eat? Baby, I can’t follow you. I hope you realise that I’m missing some of the fucking context here,” he chuckled, which bordered on sounding hysterical.

“Blood. Vampire. Now, Roman, or else- fuck. Won’t make it.” Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your voice just barely above a whisper anymore. Fuck, you hoped he understood. Even more so, you hoped he was okay with it and that maybe he liked you enough to save your life. You didn’t exactly fancy feeding from him, when he was basically pressured into it. But he had a choice, you told yourself.

When you were slowly lifted up a bit and felt skin against your lips, you forced all your last strength to open your mouth – your fangs had automatically unsheathed when you unleashed your powers – and bite down.

The first taste of Roman was as intoxicating and overwhelming as you had always fantasised it would be. A shaky moan came out of him when you started sucking in earnest. Pretty quickly, you regained more and more strength, feeling increasingly less dead. You cupped the other side of Roman’s neck with your hand and pulled him further in. Shit, you couldn’t possibly get enough.

After a few, long moments, you felt Roman push against you, as well as pulling at your clothes, calling your name. Reluctantly, and almost as if you were just waking up from a trance, you let up and licked up the excess blood on his neck, simultaneously licking his wounds closed.

Roman was breathing heavily, and you were still feeling out of it, as you two just kneeled in this alley, holding each other, amidst the dead bodies of Sionis’ former rivals. It was bizarre.

“I think we should go home,” Roman said eventually, his voice sounded so soft, as if he was barely present in the real world.

You nodded and got up, helping Roman to do the same. He was swaying a little and this time you were the one who steadied him. Drinking someone’s blood always took a toll on both parties and you knew you had taken more from him than you usually dared to do with anyone. It made you feel guilty. You had to make it up to him later – if he still wanted you then – that was for sure.

When you had arrived at Roman’s loft, you helped him lie down on his chaise longue, legs propped up on one of his many pillows, to help his blood flow to where it was most needed. Then you went over to the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.

Roman nodded in thanks when you pressed either item in his hands, standing above him. You felt so uncomfortable, didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, or if you were even supposed to still be here. He’s been so unusually quiet the entire time, albeit it was most likely due to shock and blood loss.

“So, you’re a vampire.” Roman stated, looking at you, and you hated that you couldn’t place his expression into any kind of category. You just nodded in answer. “Right. And why exactly didn’t I know?”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times, looking for the right words. “I was afraid of losing you over it,” you settled on telling the truth eventually.

Again, Roman only nodded; his expression was still so indecipherable, but then a certain shine caught in his eyes. You’ve only witnessed it a couple of times thus far.

“You killed for me,” he practically gasped. “Have you killed before? Being a vampire and all, I’d presume you have.”

You shook your head, “No, that was the first time, actually.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, in an instant, his expression morphed into something prideful, a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes brighter than any stars you’ve seen in the sky above – it was breathtaking. “You killed for me,” he repeated, sitting upright, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise longue, planting his feet on the ground.

“Y-yeah, I did,” you replied, a weak chuckle leaving you. You still couldn’t quite believe that you’ve done it, especially when you spared a thought on how it made you feel – powerful, so far above others, good.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Fuck, you’re a dream come true, my little prince! You’re so special. A vampire! And you killed for me, because-“ He couldn’t finish it, realisation dawning on him, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his smile slowly vanished.

“Because I love you, yes. I couldn’t lose you over some stupid mob boss who thought he could ambush you like that.”

Roman licked his lips and nodded, placed the empty glass and half eaten energy bar on the table in front of him, and got up.

“I’m proud of you,” he then said, taking you by surprise.

“What? Why?”

“For not letting your fears get in your way. You were afraid of losing me for being a vampire, but you were probably even more terrified of losing me to my mortality. And you pushed through it. Almost fucking killed yourself, only to save me. I’m proud of you for doing that. I’m grateful, too, naturally.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Roman,” you snickered.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Roman pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back, hoping to show him just how grateful you were with that single kiss.

Then you remembered your guilt from before and broke it. Roman glared at you for a moment. “What?”

“You never gave your consent, I- I fed from you and you never-“

“I did. By offering myself to you. I had a choice, you know? So quit it. You’re not guilty of anything, my boy. And just so you know, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever feed from anyone else again, ‘kay?” He was smirking, but his eyes had an edge to them, which let you know that he was serious about his threat.

Giving a short laugh, you nodded and kissed him again. Life really was good.

#murder tw #vampire #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #reader fic #reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis fanfiction #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #mlm fanfic #mlm fiction

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consumeconstantly · 4 years

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Lady Cross (first aid)

Summary: Somehow, Marinette always ends up biting off more than she can chew. It started off with a kid and a nasty gash on their knee. The sudden escalation to treating the new head of Gotham’s underworld? It can only be explained by the fact that she’s catnip for trouble.

_____________________________________________

Marinette supposed she should have expected something like this to happen eventually.

Really, she patches up a few street kids and offers a meal and some resources and suddenly she's made a name for herself in the slums of Gotham. It’s not like she’s doing anything revolutionary. Well, okay, maybe she does cheat a little bit and uses her healing powers on a few of the tougher cases that really should have been out of her realm of expertise, but she’s living near the slums of Gotham for a reason. That reason being Marinette is just a little broke and can’t really afford to send everyone she comes across to the hospital, and the people who are injured certainly can’t. It’s not like she can leave them to die. That would be heartless.

When she stopped treating scrapes and cuts for kids on the streets as she came across them and instead found her apartment balcony frequented by families who needed her help, she couldn’t just say no. And so, more and more serious wounds started coming in. Kids brought their parents and friends. The parents and friends brought... well, if the police stopped by her apartment any time soon, she’s fairly certain they’d have a field day.

But again, it’s not like she’s going to turn these people into the police when they’ve come to her for help and have a small army of people who swear up and down that they’re good people and only doing what they have to do in order to get by.

Morality comes in such a variety of shades, who was she to judge? Ladybug and Marinette have both certainly had their fair share of mistakes that they’d gladly go back in time to rectify, and her hands weren’t clean of blood either. Sure, the Miraculous Cure may have brought people back, but their deaths were still on her. And Hawkmoth? Yeah, he’s alive now, but she hammered him into the pavement after dropping him from the top of the Eiffel tower, and she’s not going to pretend that she didn’t take a bit of morbid joy in that moment.

But back to the matter at hand. Which was, the notorious Red Hood—responsible for a coup amongst Gotham’s drug dealers and responsible for taking down a man whose morality truly vanished with the wind, Black Mask himself— was currently bleeding out on her second floor balcony, smoking a cigarette and lounging against the rail like he owned the place.

“Lady Cross,” he inclined his head.

“Red Hood,” Marinette returned his greeting.

God, she really didn’t want to get involved with Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to helping out street thugs and criminals, but Red Hood was a different league. He seemed to be a fairly decent guy, ensuring that kids weren’t dealt drugs and tried to keep them out of the circuit as much as possible. He took down plenty of worse criminals while he was at it. In fact, Marinette would go so far to say the Red Hood as one the good guys.

But the issue was, once she started treating people of a certain level, she’d be open game. And that didn’t seem very enticing to her. Not at all. Everyone knew that Red Hood had beef with the Bat Family for some reason or other, and also made enemies with almost every single rogue in Gotham, and a good number of enemies outside of it as well. Basically, Red Hood was a universal enemy of both the vigilantes and rogues. Someone she shouldn’t get involved with while she was trying to investigate the darkness surrounding Gotham whole running her online boutique and going to college at Gotham University.

Unfortunately, Tom and Sabine and her own stint as Ladybug taught her that she could never ignore someone in need. Marinette sighed and slid the mesh open, leading Red Hood to her living room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Real nice place you got here,” he said.

With the mask covering the whole of his face, Marinette had no facial expressions to figure out whether he was poking fun at her current living situation or not. His voice sounded genuine, but vocal emotions were easy to fake.

The apartment she was living in was not on the nice side of town. There were three bullet holes in the wall between her living room and bedroom that she just didn’t have time to patch up, some pretty nasty looking stains on the ceiling near her kitchen, and a huge, spray painted red cross on one of her walls, which was where her street name derived from. Her floor and coffee table were also in states of disarray; she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clean up after working on two commissions and the last guest whose wounds were heavy enough to warrant several rolls of gauze, which was now half stuffed into a garbage can sitting next to rolls of fabric. Perhaps not the neatest or most sanitary situation, but she didn’t have time to clean up before every single one of her unexpected guests came in.

Look, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have time to fix things up real nice and neat. She’d only been living in the apartment for a month and a half, and most times, she barely spent any time in it other than to sleep, cram last minute projects for her design course, or to help heal people. Her living situation wasn’t the biggest of worries.

“Sit,” Marinette gestured to the one of the few pieces of furniture that she specifically bought for the apartment. She didn’t mind the stained, half broken, and extremely creaky couch the last owners left behind for the first week, but after she started bringing back her first… visitors, it seemed important that the couch was comfortable, sturdy, and most crucially, cleanable.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she pulled out a tattered briefcase she thrifted a while back to keep all of her medical supplies in. Not the prettiest of things, but she tried not to keep expensive looking items in her apartment because she wasn’t a fan of getting mugged. The medicine she kept was already expensive enough, she didn’t need to attract everyone’s attention by owning one of those metal containers used in hospitals. Even though most of the people who dropped by her apartment were thankful to be treated, she had a few instances where people tried to steal things from her.

“What’s the damage, doc?” Red Hood’s voice came through rather tinny through his helmet.

Marinette grimaced. The helmet must have awful air circulation. It looked like some sort of metal, and wet and metal never smelled good together. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Thought you were supposed to be some mystic healer who came from the far east.”

She paused and looked at the man, trying to judge whether he was racist as well as rude. “That’s rather insulting.”

Red Hood shrugged. Marinette applauded the man for showing no outward sign of pain at that, even though there was a bullet embedded in his shoulder, and shrugging had to bite. “That’s what the word on the street is, though you sound French to me. Thought I’d come and check out who’s healing Gotham’s criminals. What’re you planning?”

“Sorry to foil your plans, but I’m not planning anything other than getting my college degree and not pissing off the people I live near.” She paused, flipping the lock on the briefcase upwards. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me as your go to healer from now on. You’re going to bring trouble my way.”

“Trouble? Me? Perish the thought.” His hand rested comfortably on the holister of his gun, ready to shoot if the girl pulled out a weapon from the briefcase. “We’ll talk about repeat appearances after I see how you do today.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Any wounds other than the obvious?”

“Just need the bullet out, and some stitches on the gash.” His shoulder and his abdomen, respectively. The gash looked nastier than the bullet; no shrapnel, but the cut on his stomach was jagged and wide. Not a normal, sharp blade. Probably needed a good cleaning.

She grabbed the tweezers, a sterilized needle, and medical thread. “That’s fine. Now are you going to undress, or am I going to have to cut your… costume… up?”

“Getting me naked already? We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Very funny, little Red Riding Hood. Now hop to it. I have class at 9 tomorrow and projects to finish tonight.” Somehow, trouble always seemed to find her when she least wanted it to. Not that she wanted to have trouble find her at all, but luck was a two way street, and for all that being Ladybug granted her good luck, she attracted criminals like catnip.

“And here my informants had me thinking you were a regular Florence Nightingale.”

Marinette snorted. “They wish. I’ve got to ask who told you, because everybody should know the rules. You know, the ones where they don’t speak of my existence to their higher ups?”

“I’m not a rat,” Red Hood said, taking the top part of his outfit off. “And it’s not like you would have gone unnoticed anyways. You might be treating small timers now, but people catch on to healers pretty easy.”

“Because some gauze and sewing skills make me such a prime target.”

“No, your magic does.”

Shit. Marinette never told anyone she was using magic, and she rarely used it unless it was a dire situation. If she could patch them up using regular skills, she did.

“Yeah right, if I had magic healing powers, do you think I’d be shoving my fingers into your shoulder to get a bullet out?”

“Not a very good liar, Lady Cross. You have this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about you.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’m also the deer that tramples through your windshield and takes a dump on the driver’s seat.” She maneuvered the tweezers a little rougher, hoping to make Red Hood hiss in pain. He just chuckled, amused. His high pain tolerance was getting rather annoying. She had half a mind to pour hydrogen peroxide over the wound just to see if that would make him show he was in pain, but thought better of it. Even though she didn’t like the man, she also didn’t want to piss him off. Or worse, have him come back and make her fix him up again.

Threading the needle, she made quick, small stitches on his shoulder, sewing the bullet hole up, then put some petroleum jelly to speed up the healing process and reduce scarring. At least the wound was in a position that didn’t require a lot of gauze. She needed to go out and buy some more soon. She barely had enough to wrap around Red Hood’s waist.

“So, the magic,” Red Hood started. “Is it a conditional thing? Can you not use it all the time?”

“Again, I don’t have magic.” Marinette did have to use some antibacterial on the knife wound. He would need to take good care of that one to make sure it didn’t get infected.

“So a meta, then. What are you doing in Gotham? Everybody knows Batman hates metas.”

“Not a meta, either, sorry to disappoint.” She tied off the gauze, then stood to wash her hands. “Make sure to clean the stomach wound well. Hope you have your tetanus shot, otherwise you should look into getting one.”

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to believe you on the not-a-meta thing. Back to the first thing, then. Magic. Why don’t you show me the old razzle dazzle? Do you have to say one of those weird spells like the godmother in Cinderella? Bibbity bobbity boo?”

“You’re hilarious,” Marinette dead panned.

“How’s this for magic? Bibbity bobbity boo, kindly leave. Shoo.” She followed his suggestion, made a show of jazz hands as well. “Pity I don’t use magic otherwise you’d be gone now. Anyways, it’s time for you to make your exit. It would be great if you didn't visit me again. Ever. Thanks.”

She ushered him out onto her patio, then slammed the sliding door. He saluted her before dropping off the side of the building. She could imagine the man under the helmet smirking.

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

#jasonette july #first aid #jasonette #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #gotham #original content #bamf marinette #sassy marinette #miraculous ladybug #maribat #dcu #red hood hears of a mystic healer and decides to check her out

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winterwolf0916 · 4 years

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𝗙𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗿

Jason Todd x Tamaran! Reader

Requested by anon: Hiya! I love your blog so much, and I just was wondering, if you're taking requests right now, could I request some Jason Todd x a Tamaranean reader? Like maybe she stowed away to earth when Kory made a trip to Tamaran and she's really cute and sweet and enthusiastic and fun and she had no family back home so Kory's like yeah alright you can be my sidekick and she has to get used to life on earth and meets Jason as Robin and they become friends to lovers to oh no he fuckin dead to lovers again?

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Language, Mentions of Death, Slow Burn & oh! did I mention fluff?

A/n: My heart... Also, I pray and hope you enjoy this one, love. This took me a while to finish but I got it done and I got carried away it. I wont lie, my writing isn’t the best but I hope this is something you what wanted or close to it.

Word Count: 3K

Kori loves your company

You were like the little sister she never had

A better sister than Blackfire of course

When she brought you to earth you were so amazed at everything

It looks so lively and green.

Flying around and feeling the cool waters from the ocean, the beautiful smell of the flowers and pines from the trees, and the shiny reflection on the buildings.

As Kori was going to take a visit to the cave to see Dick for a mission, she brought you along for an introduction.

He looked scary once you were brought inside.

“Kori! So nice to see you again. Oh, who’s this?” Dick glanced at your direction as you hid behind her like a scared kitten.

“Ah, this is Y/n L/n. A Tamaranean like me.”

“Hello y/n. I’m Nightwing.” You were mostly afraid of the masks because you haven’t seen anyone like him with that sort.

Dick noticed your fear then he took it off, causing you to relax a little, and shook your hand. “It’s so nice to have you on Earth.” You only nodded your head with a small smile. But there was a large slam of a door and stomping onto the stairs.

“Son of a bitch! Son a crusty no good bitch!”

“Jason. We have guests.” This… ‘Jason’ took a glance at their direction before giving a frown. Once again, you hid your figure behind Kori’s, scared onto the boy

Dick apologized to the two of you and went off to lecture his younger brother.

Kori only sighed and notified you that this was normal of him before Dick came back.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just having another rough day with our dad. Jason please come greet them!” He rounded a corner with his mask on and his suit with an imprinted R.

“Robin. Pleased to meet you.” He sounded so irritated that he wanted this introduction to be over with.

Still in uneasiness with the mask, Dick quickly nudged his younger brother urging him to take it off.

Jason didn’t.

He just walked past you guys and left the cave on his motorbike.

Oh how much ass whopping he’s gonna get from Dick.

The second encounter happened at the Titans tower.

You finally learned how to control your powers and perform such combat ability that you never knew you could do.

Dick and Kori were like parents in the Tower.

You really loved the Titans

Raven may be dark but you both have such a strong friendship due to your trauma back in Tamaran and hers with her father

You suffered from a torturous experiment that left you with very similar yet slightly different powers than Kori.

Also you both love books

Garth always makes you laugh.

When training he turns into a gorilla to lift a good 3000 pounds while you could lift a good 70 tons making him go EEK!

He would make very disappointing puns but it always amuses you while everyone cringes at the dinner table.

Cyborg is like an older brother to you.

You would sometimes help him with the mechanics and lift heavy parts around while he rants about his day and he would also cheer for you when you’re sparring

They were the closest friends while the rest of the members adore you and your sweet personality

But when Jason came along with Dick for a small mission for a few weeks, you immediately locked yourself in your room.

The Titans were concerned

You were so marvelous and bubbly to all guests. Even to the infamous Batman!

Did the small bastard do something to make you like this?

Planning murder

But Dick and Kori knew why

After a lecture with the boy, Jason came by your dorm at night, still in uniform, knocking on your door, you didn’t open up, only listened from the inside

“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t sincere really. “I know we started off on the wrong foot, um…” his hand went through his hair in frustration that he needed to do this. “Since we're working together, we’re going to need to become trusting of one another….I’ll...see you tomorrow I guess.” That was awkward of him.

As footsteps faded down the hallway, you started to give a small smile.

You start to warm up to him.

But when he starts doing the little things, the two of you grew a bond.

By little things, I mean correcting your moves when sparring, telling you stories of his previous missions, listening to you, exposing embarrassing stories about Dick, bringing you your favorite meals in a large amount because you’re a big eater, and lots of others.

When you first saw him without his mask, you were floating above him, pulling his face closer to yours while admiring the beautiful color of his eyes.

“Your eyes are the most gorgeous color I’ve seen here on Earth.”

Oh how your face fell when he had to leave.

Don’t get me started with Jason, he began to be more hostile when sparring with others

There was a time when he took out his feelings on a sand bag while Garth and Cyborg were questioning what that bag ever did to him.

Of course the ‘parents’ took notice of this and Dick would purposely bring you to the cave or Jason to the tower.

The two of you have such a friendship that you would sometimes prank one another yet enjoy each other's silence.

Carnivals or nights out in the city were always a blast.

Whenever the two of you would see each other, you would fly to him in a swift manner that he would sometimes stumble back to regain balance from the impact.

Soon, a single touch from him exchanging a book to you, caused you to feel such an electric current.

His smile and laughter made your heart paced faster than the speed of light

His cocky attitude and sweet side made your nine stomachs filled with butterflies.

You panicked and told Kori about it while she was sitting on her couch smiling as you explained.

“You like him y/n.” “Well of course! He’s my friend isn’t he?” “Oh dear, you’ll need to sit down for this.”

Wait, there is a different emotion called attraction?

AND IT DOESN’T STOP?

The more time you’ve spent with Jason, the more your ‘attraction’ feels stronger.

You would sometimes daydream the two of you blossoming into a relationship like Dick and Kori.

“Did you hear that Kori and Dick broke up again?” Raven stated before taking a sip of her tea. “What is this, ‘breaking up’ ?” you asked with curiosity yet wonder about this new term

When Raven sighed and gave details about it, you were 100x more terrified about the idea of a relationship

What if you and Jason will experience the same if you both ever become a couple?

You tried to distract the feeling of disheartenment with your enthusiasm

But of course, the feeling always returns

Your legs were pressed to your chest as you gaze at the ocean and it’s crystal shimmers of the moonlight, still in thought about your feelings. Jason found you on the rooftop of the tower since he figured something was wrong for the past week

As he questioned it, you asked, “Jason have you ever liked a girl that is a friend?” His foot on the edge of the building nearly slipped once you asked.

“I mean...yeah, there are times when I really liked her.”

“Do you still have feelings for one?”

“Very.”

“Really!? Who?” You were excited but felt such pain in your heart.

This boy choked onto her request. But he spoke, spoke about this ‘mystery’ girl. How adorable she is and brightening everyone’s day when it has been horrid, including his own. How he admires her caring behavior whenever someone was hurt. He really likes her and would like to take her out one day.

“Her name is Y/n.”

“What a wonderful name she has.”

“You do know I was talking about you, right?”

“Yes yes, she does have- wait what?”

Dreamy sigh

Ah yes

Young love

Kori wasn’t all surprised as she and Dick saw the two of you were walking in the streets of the city, hand in hand. She was delighted.

Dick was thrilled to see the two together yet gave Jason, the talk, if he ever does something stupid to you

The Titans congratulated the two and some exchanged money with one another after losing a bet

After a couple of months, Jason had to leave for a classified mission that’ll last a couple of weeks.

As he said his goodbyes, you gave a kiss to his cheek before rushing back inside and leaving him smiling to himself.

It was lonely for the past couple of weeks but the worst part was when it turned to a few months.

Dick headed to Gotham four weeks after Jason left.

You were frightened about your boyfriend’s well being

As Dick returns to the tower, he doesn’t look the same.

You thought he was acting in such a behavior to surprise you that Jason is back.

“Y/n...we need to talk.”

“Ok?” Kori gave a concerned glance at Dick’s direction, clearly unsure of how you’ll take the announcements. “What? Why are you both so silent? Please tell me.” You have had such a glowing smile, ready to hear it. The prank.

“Look, I know you and Jason are in a relationship but I have some...news.”

“I’m listening.” Your foot tapped in excitement while Dick grew uneasy.

“Four...four weeks ago, we located Jason in an abandoned warehouse. He was held captive there for God knows how long by the Joker. And, as Bruce headed to rescue him…” you wanted to laugh at how far Dick was taking this.

Except, he wasn’t pretending

“...He was too late. The warehouse exploded and my... Jason...passed away. I’m so sorry Y/n.” He added. You clapped your hands and giggled

“Amazing job! Brava! What an incredible and creative prank Dick. Very impressive. Now where is he so I can finally owe him a real kiss.”

The adults were silent. You took their silence as part of the prank and rushed to the bottom of the tower to find him.

But he wasn’t there.

“Ok I checked the 50 floors below us but don’t worry, I bet he’s on the roof. He’s always there.” You returned to the room where Kori and Dick sat you in.

“This isn’t made up.” Raven and a few others entered the room, you could see it in their eyes they weren’t faking but you still denied it. “He passed away y/n.”

“No he didn't...He isn’t...Jason! You can come out now! Jason?” You flew to the roof.

As you searched and it was empty that was when your stomach dropped.

“Jason!” You flew around the area. The more you searched, the heavier your heart became. As you landed on the roof and heard the doors open, you glided to Dick. “Where is he?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No…no no... this is a game, right? When I check the floors again he’ll be there, right?... Dick?” He pulled your hand and placed something on your palm.

“He’s gone Y/n. I’m so...so sorry.” Glancing to the object placed on your palm, your entire being froze at the sight.

From what you’re told, the R emblem is one of the only parts that are the easiest to clean and the least damaged on Jason’s suit after all of his missions.

What Dick gave you was the exact emblem but it was badly dented, burnt marks covered the R, scratch marks on the front and back while most of the edges are chipped.

Your legs gave weight as you fell to the floor, holding his badge close to your chest, and screamed your lungs out. Your vocals were so powerful that they made half of the windows on the Tower shatter. Tears made their way down from your cheeks to the floor as your eyes turned in a y/f/c glow.

You flew off, for time alone to grieve it all. When Kori found you, you broke down even harder in her arms

You weren’t going to turn to revenge.

Even though you saw it in Dick and a few others, you couldn’t.

Kori taught you revenge isn’t the answer along with the new Robin or better known as Tim drake

You weren’t happy Jason was replaced but continued with your bright personality.

But during the nights, you felt so empty and numb.

Why

Out of all people, why did Jason leave you

Your family and friends died due to the violence of the leaders that experimented on you.

But now the person you loved most?

More pain was placed on your shoulders.

You grieved and mourned whenever you’re alone or with Kori.

Two months later, you decided to explore the world on your own.

Saving Earth, countries, and other planets from danger.

Yet discovering the beauty onto nearly every destination

This continued for four years before you were called to Gotham for a meeting.

You greeted the Titans, other heroes you’ve met during your travels, and the bat family before the meeting starts

When it was over, you felt someone’s eyes on you.

As you located the orbs burning on your figure, you found a man with extreme built, a red helmet covering his entire head, a scarlet colored bat emblem imprinted on his black suit, and a coffee leather jacket.

You were confused as to why his eyes were wide and his body leaned forward as if he had found gold.

“Kori, why is he staring over here? Do I have something in my hair?” As your beloved best friend glanced at the man you were referring to, she let out a pearly smile.

“I think he likes you.” She snickered as you rolled your eyes.

In the past, some of your friends tried to set you up with many men. Key word: tried. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it just didn’t feel right. You did try to fall for them but it just doesn’t last.

“Very funny.”

“I’m not joking. He’s looking at you like, in slang terms, a ‘snack’.” You chuckled at her before returning your gaze to the mystery man. But the color of his helmet was not present to your sight, instead, the sight of an exit door closing.

You saw him once again during a mission on a tropical island.

Someone was making hybrids based on DNA from different heroes around the world.

So here you were…

Approaching the scene as the infamous Red Hood was getting choked by a 9 foot tall creature before you scared it off with a blast of your powers.

“Need a hand, big boy?” You reached out your arm, waiting for him to take it. He was hesitant.

“...Sure.” He took it and you couldn’t help but feel slightly surprised of how tall he was

As you found Kori and gave her a hug, you joined the team till the mission finished.

You really loved being in the group.

But mostly enjoyed the company of Red Hood.

There was something about him that made you smile warmly as he progressed with his idiotic plan

Kori and Roy offered for you to be an Outlaw and you gladly accepted

But the third member wasn’t all too happy about it.

The four of you all reserved an Overwater Bungalow resort on the island

A week later, you heard arguing from Kori’s home while you and Roy brought food.

“I don’t understand you, why won’t you tell her already?” Her voice muffled by the walls of the hut.

“She’s not ready.” His voice in the room as well

“Y/n has been far too ready to know who you really are.” You haven’t heard Kori this angry in ages and what did they mean about you knowing?

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh I understand plenty,” You and the red head’s eyes widen at her sass. “How long can you keep this act up? This, I want to hide this because I want to protect her, act? Your brother used that on me a few times, hmph, always knows when to make a woman angry.”

Brother? But the only brother you know she dated was-

“Don’t compare me to Dick, Kori.”

Oh...Shit…

Roy put two and two together and oh shit! He remembered his best friend mentioning a girl before his sudden death. Roy glanced at you as your eyes were wide and glossy at the truth. He kicked the door open causing the two heads to turn while you were hidden outside of the hut with your head down.

How could you not notice it before… Red Hood not revealing himself under the helmet when he was in legit trunks, constantly putting distance between the two of you, displeased when you joined the outlaws, and the worried glances between him and Kori!

“Got the food!” As Roy set the meals down and you entered the room, the air was so intense you could cut it with a knife.

“I’m not that hungry so I’m going to my room.” Kori glared at the helmet man, causing him to release a sigh.

“Do you-”

“Perfect! Now take these,” Roy gave a bag of two take outs to him and led the unresolved pair outside. “Have a good night.” He shut the door closed leaving you and the vigilante in silence.

“I can take the bag.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

It was so awkward the walk back to your huts.

He tries to make the situation lighter but it was no use.

All of that pain you felt years ago, returned and after realizing who he is...It felt so much worse.

“Hey y/n, do you want to know the story of my first kiss?” What is he trying to do now?

“That's pretty sweet! Random but sweet! Go on.” He paused in place under a shadow of a hut as a thick cloud covered the sun. His hand traveled to the back of his helmet and a sudden click was heard before steam escaped from the open cracks of his mask. It was dark and you couldn’t see his full features.

“It was a normal day, I was carrying some groceries with my butler but got lost in the crowd due to my sleep deprivation. And the craziest thing happened when I was struggling to find him, a cute y/h/c girl with bright y/e/c eyes came up to me and spoke a language I’ve never heard in my life. So I tried to understand her words but I was so clueless before she pulled my face and gave me a smooch.” Your stomach did a flip as you realized why the story was so familiar to you. “She apologized when she was done but spoke english. As she left me there completely bamboozled… I wondered, ‘I don’t know what the hell that was about but will I see her again?’ then my butler found me.”

It's a memory. Your memory and his. You dropped the bag.

“Jason.” As the darkness unsheathed and the sun’s light was visible, he took a couple of steps towards you and gosh… You didn’t realize how much you missed him when your eyes began to sting, shoulders dropped, and your bottom lip shaking.

You took flight and bolted in his arms.

“It’s you… it's really...you asshole.” you shoved him lightly while Jason expected the worst. “Asshole. Asshole. Asshole!” Every curse is a light punch on his chest.

“Easy...Easy!” He held your two hands by the wrists. “When did you learn how to curse?!”

“When you were dead!” Your eyes were covered by your signature y/f/c glow and tears streamed down your face.

“Calm down.”

“Calm down? I may be an alien and I may be nice, but I have feelings too. Feelings when we shared that first kiss, held hands, waiting for you to come back...hearing that awful news about you…” Your arms dropped and your head lowered. “And I’m feeling angry at you right now for not saying anything!”

In all honesty, he really wanted to tell you. But he didn’t know how you would take it. He's not the exactly the same when he was a teenager and he’s been through so much as Red Hood that he doesn’t want the bad guys to target you and your superhuman abilities. But his feelings for you didn’t shrink a single centimeter. It grew. Grew that he was so close to return to you and kiss you like there is no tomorrow.

“Didn’t...Haven’t you felt the same of how I felt for you, Jason? Did you hate me that much to leave me and start a new life? To get away from me?” You questioned as the glow in your eyes dimmed down to your y/c/e orbs but your water works didn’t stop. You were still shaking, thinking of how Jason never loved you. How he made you feel pain for years.

He made you feel like a human. Being an alien on Earth was quite lonely. But Kori was there with you through it all. But when Jason, a human, made you feel like you’re a human… You didn’t care about the negativity as much, you focused onto the positives. You discovered things about yourself from a different perspective. You learned how to love.

A warm embrace and the sun falling behind the horizon made your entire being warmer than the heat of the light beams. Your fingers trailed under his jacket to feel his body heat.

“Not even close.” He pulled a little before resting his forehead on yours. “It was the opposite and more. I just didn’t want you to see me in my dark life. I died and came back from the dead, every minute feeling empty. But once I learned more about myself, I wanted to change for the better. But I made so many rough decisions, that I couldn’t come back to you yet until I fixed them. I didn’t want you to love a mistake.”

“Shhh.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re never a mistake, only a good man who tried his best. The only thing that matters now, is that you’re here.” His teal orbs flickered to yours, your heart skipping a beat by the sight of your favorite colored eyes once again.

The sun was engulfed, the light dimmed till the sky was navy, and the stars were sprinkled all around the two silhouettes under the moon. The lock of your lips to his were the answer to your reunion.

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fluffybluekitten · 3 years

Photo

@badthingshappenbingo

Fill for the prompt Trust Issues, requested by @hereoncloudnine

Read it on ao3 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/31843678

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

They’ve only just pulled apart. Bruce can still feel his increased heart rate as he adjusts his pants and leans back against the unfamiliar car seat. He glances to the side, where Edward’s shifting in his seat to look at him, eyes bright even in the weak glow from the nearest streetlight.

He knows he should shut this down. If Edward’s about to admit to something criminal he can’t promise to keep him out of prison, and he won’t give out any more personal information than the man already has on him. He stays quiet.

“Where can you roost with birds and the city’s elite, on a night where masks wear masks in the chilled summer heat?”

Last time Edward asked him a post-sex riddle he responded with a detailed explanation of why trying to pin down and turn this intangible thing they have into something more concrete would be a terrible idea. Edward still brings up how completely wrong he got that answer all the time. He never should have let things get this far.

“The Iceberg Lounge May masquerade,” Bruce answers.

“Well done. Looks like you’re on the ball Bruce, so to speak.”

Bruce returns his gaze to the street ahead, to the seemingly empty apartment they’re staking out. Cars hum a street away, but nothing moves on this dark road. He can feel Edward still watching him, apparently another answer is required. “Batman has no reason to get involved with that.”

“No… Batman hasn’t.”

“Edward-”

“Don’t get too excited Bruce. It’s not as if I’m asking you on a date. I’m merely suggesting you make an appearance. I can even provide you with a companion if you’re in need of one. One of my clients, a nice young widow. Really should get out more, so you two already have something in common.”

Bruce looks at Edward. It’s still strange being so close to him in civilian clothes. They’re in disguise for this stakeout, well Bruce is, Edward has just gone for a more muted shade of green. “No.”

“What if I told you I had reason to believe the night will be an eventful one?”

“Sounds like the kind of thing you should be staying away from.”

“Yes, you’re not the first to tell me that.”

Bruce looks closer. Edward does look worried, under his usual bravado. He must be, to ask. What they do together has nothing to do with feelings, it’s a series of mistakes made barely tolerable in that it stops either of them making more dangerous mistakes, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see Edward hurt.

“In that case, don’t go.”

“It’s not purely a fun night out. I have to attend if I want to retain any status with Gotham’s villains.”

Edward loses him there. Edward’s continued relationship with the rogues can occasionally be useful, but his refusal to sever that connection to his old life worries Bruce. “Make your own mistakes if you must, Edward, but I will be watching.”

“A true mystery why I‘d even want to go when the heroes are so welcoming.”

The air inside the car has grown warm and still with the engine off and windows up. It smells like the dregs of his coffee, and the sickly sweetness of the remains of Edward’s pastry, balled up in paper towels next to his cup. He brushes the back of his hand over his lips in case any powdered sugar remains.

“Well, thank you, Bruce. At least you’re honest with me. It’s best that I know that I can’t rely on you.”

“Come on. I may not be there. But if anything happens, I’ll know.”

“Wonderful, perhaps you can fish my corpse out of the harbour.”

Edward’s disappointed, a familiar emotion coming from him. He’s disappointed every time Batman won’t answer his riddles, every time he loses his attention, every time Bruce won’t give a name to this thing they have. Bruce doesn’t know where he got such high expectations of him. But then, he feels the same every time Edward makes it clear he doesn’t really care about the people he helps now, only the game. But Edward has never disappointed him in the way Bruce expected when he first reformed. “You really think I wouldn’t find you in time? I can’t promise I’ll always be there to stop you getting hurt, Edward, but I will always save you.”

Edward looks at him with a strange expression on his face. This time Bruce definitely needs to shut things down. He reaches out a hand and runs fingers through soft un-gelled hair, something he’s wanted to do since he got into this car. Edward closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

A door slams down the street. There’s their tail, heading out.

Bruce leaps back into business mode. “Let’s go.”

The night moves fast after that, and it’s not until Bruce drops Edward back at his office in the early hours of the morning that they have a chance to speak about anything other than the case.

“Edward!” Bruce calls. Edward is walking away, brushing a little of the dust from the warehouse explosion off his suit. He turns back with a look that could be hopeful, or not. “I’ll be there.”

#bad things happen bingo #batman #riddler #riddlebat #trust issues

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crackspines · 3 years

Text

Just for the Night

Tim Drake didn’t think he was a bad kid, but the evidence was mounting. Parents of good children could stand to be in the same room with them without it dissolving into a screaming match about an A- on a spelling test. Parents of good children don’t have to fly around the world for ten months out of the year to get away from their kids, leaving their multi-million dollar company unattended.

And lastly, Tim thought as he dabbed his bloody lip with a square of toilet paper, if he wasn’t a bad kid, then they wouldn’t have to hit him.

So really, a rational mind could only come to one conclusion.

Tim’s eyes watered in the mirror, and he gave up on the lip. It was swelling now and most of the blood was trapped under the skin. Chapped lips and a backhand to the face is a recipe for disaster.

Heading back to his bedroom, he moved quickly and silently, inching the door closed behind him. In the wake of their family fight, the house had gone completely quiet. Even the sound of a nine-year-old’s slippers on hardwood was like a gunshot to Tim’s ears. His nerves felt like live wire, like every little noise and sensation was grating on him with a serrated blade.

After settling in under his comforter, Tim’s eyes didn’t close. His face ached fiercely, making him too uncomfortable for sleep. Even without the pain, his mind kept the events of tonight rolling through his thoughts on repeat.

He could see his mother’s hand swinging for his face. Beside her, his father had pulled off his belt and was brandishing it in the air. Both of their eyes were alive with a hate that Tim could hardly believe was directed at him.

He never thought he’d long for the days when they left him alone for months at a time while traveling. Six months ago, when they told him Drake Industries was in trouble, and they’d have to stay in Gotham semi-permanently, he’d leaped for joy. They finally had the chance to be a loving family living under one roof. It was his fantasy come to life.

And now Tim had to leave.

As quickly as he’d gotten into it, he slid out of bed. His school bag was stuffed with books and a school tablet. He placed it all neatly on his desk. Hopefully, Mrs. Mac could return it to his teachers.

Instead of books, Tim filled the bag with a few sturdy outfits, toiletries, a granola bar, and his camera. He knew the latter was probably a bad idea, but he couldn’t bear to part with it. His parents had given it to him for his seventh birthday.

He took a step back and stared at the half-full bag that contained what would soon be his only possessions. He bit his lip out of habit and winced as the gash opened, blood dribbling down his chin.

After wiping the blood away, he reached under his bed and pulled out his Batman blanket. His last nanny had given it to him years ago, sewing it herself. He knew he shouldn’t take it. It was childish. Something for babies. His parents had tried to throw it away, but he’d begged them to let him keep it.

After a moment, he hastily shoved the blanket into the backpack. He quickly zipped it closed, though there was no one around to see his moment of weakness.

_____

Jason Todd didn’t consider himself a good kid, but he’d definitely met worse. He may do what he has to to survive, but that never involved hurting another person. No gangs, no drugs, and no supervillains. That was more than he could say for most of the homeless middle school dropouts in his neighborhood.

His relatively clean conscience wasn’t the only reason why he stuck mostly to petty theft. Jason didn’t want trouble. If he wanted to stay alive and out of the foster care system, he couldn’t afford it either. He kept his nose in his own business, and people left him alone for the most part.

His personal rules went out the window, however, when he came across the batmobile, idling unsupervised in Crime Alley, just a few blocks from his squat. As soon as Jason got a good look at those custom, sleek, black tires….

Well, he considered himself a decent kid, not a fucking saint.

He’d already removed two bolts from the first tire when he realized he wasn’t alone. At the movement from the corner of his eyes, he jumped up from his crouch, brandishing the tire iron.

“Come out from behind the dumpster, creep,” he growled, expecting some two-bit thug or maybe even Batman to step into the dim light of the street lamp.

Instead, it was a little kid with dark hair, blue eyes, and a hell of a fat lip. Even from a couple yards away, Jason could see how his hands gripped the straps of his backpack like a lifeline, knuckles white. The bag was almost as big as him.

“That’s the batmobile,” the kid blurted out.

Jason raised an eyebrow, and the young boy’s ears went slightly pink. “I noticed. What are you doing out here, kid?”

Because it was obvious he didn’t belong. The kid was a little skinny for Jason’s taste, but his clothes were quality, and he’d definitely been bathing on the regular. There wasn’t a single speck of dirt under his nails.

Instead of answering Jason’s question, he eyed his shoes as he scuffed them against the dirty pavement. “You shouldn’t take Batman’s tires. He’s a hero. He fights bad guys and makes the city a better place.”

Definitely hadn’t been on the streets long, Jason thought.

The older boy rolled his eyes. “Since he’s such a great guy, I’m sure he won’t mind donating his tires to the cause.”

The other boy didn’t have anything to say to that, so they lapsed into silence. Instead of picking up the tire iron and finishing the job or heading for the hills, Jason eyed the kid.

“Your parents do that to your face?”

The younger boy’s hand drifted up to his bloody lip, seemingly without his permission. “N-no.”

“Lemme guess,” Jason drawled, “you fell.”

The boy’s eyes went wide, and Jason snorted. “Word of advice, kid: come up with a better excuse before child services catches up with you.”

“I don’t want to go into foster care,” the kid mumbled.

“Yeah. You, me, and every other kid in this city. It’s the stuff of nightmares.”

There was a rustle of movement on the roof above him, and Jason froze. He’d been perfectly willing to risk Batman’s wrath when it was only his bacon getting cooked.

“Run, kid,” he ordered, eyeing the roofline with suspension.

“Why?”

Internally groaning, Jason grabbed Tim by the elbow and pulled him along. The kid didn’t put up any kind of fight, which would get him killed or worse pretty quick on these streets. Jason put that out of his mind for the moment, though, running down the unlit alley with the younger boy in tow.

The kid kept gasping something about not needing to run from Batman. When Jason finally stopped to catch his breath, he said, “Second word of advice: Batman is not your friend, kid.”

A stubborn line in the other boy’s jaw appeared before Jason’s eyes.

“Yes, he is,” the boy said mulishly. “He’s a hero.”

Letting the matter drop for the moment, Jason appraised the boy again. He was painfully small and would be easy prey for predators, traffickers, and all manner of bad guys that roamed Crime Alley. Honestly, he’d be surprised if the kid lasted the night.

But that wasn’t Jason’s problem, he reminded himself. His squat was only a block or so away, and there was half a can of tomato soup and a few cheetos waiting for him. He could barely keep himself alive and fed. He couldn’t go involving himself with every runaway he happened across.

Jason heard himself ask, “You have somewhere to stay tonight?”

The kid glanced back the way they’d come, and Jason remembered he’d found him behind a dumpster. There were worse places to spend the night. The smell kept most people away, and it’d be warm enough on a September night.

Jason had certainly had worse, so why did the thought of this kid curled up on the dirty ground all night make his chest hurt?

“I’ve got a place,” he said slowly, regretting it even before the words were out of his mouth. This kid was undoubtedly trouble. “Nothing fancy. Four walls, roof, whatever. If you wanted--”

“I could stay with you?” The kid finished eagerly.

“One night offer only,” Jason amended gruffly.

There was a wetness to his eyes, and Jason hastily looked away before it could tug anymore at his heart. But instead of crying, the kid smiled.

“That’s ok! One night would be great,” the kid said brightly. “People don’t usually want me around longer than that anyway.”

Jason swallowed at that. “What’s your name anyway, kid?”

“Tim,” he said, and then stuck out his hand like a miniature of a businessman on TV.

Despite himself, he laughed. “Jason.”

The answering smile was blinding. “Nice to meet you, Jason.”

He finally gave in and shook the boy’s hand, if only to get him to put it down. “Let’s go home, kid.”

“Home for the night,” he said, walking along Jason without complaint.

“Right,” the older boy said doubtfully. “Just for the night.”

Let me know what you think/read more here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31240799

#batman #robin #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #fanfiction

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trellanyx · 4 years

Note

your jonathan crane (who i love so very much) and numbers 1 through... oh, lets say 25 ;)

(Send me a character and a number)

Have I told you how much I love you lately, Lizard? Because I do. Oh yes I do. 😂

Word vomiting about my Jon in 3, 2, 1...

1) Something this character is truly proud of.

His work, of course. Not just the toxin, but the breadth of his knowledge, his experiments, his successes and vengeances. Jonathan is an expert in his field, and considering what he went through to get there he’s damn proud of it.

2) Who they want to please the most.

Jonathan Crane does not give a single solitary fuck about what anyone thinks of him. The only satisfaction he cares about is his own. Considering how high his standards are, that’s a big enough challenge already.

3) Who depends on them.

No one. Jon may make you think you need him if that serves his end goal, but other than that he keeps his distance. If you’re in a position where you actually depend on Jonathan Crane’s services, you’re fucked.

4) What they would do if they had one month to live.

Work feverishly to A) preserve his work and B) push it as far as it can go before his body betrays him. Jon would be pulling such long, intense hours that it’s quite possible he’d drop dead before the month was up from sheer exhaustion. If he doesn’t, then he takes his magnum opus and goes out with a hell of a bang.

5) A cherished personal belonging.

Nothing. He has things he likes more than most: a tortoiseshell watch, a spring-loaded gun, his sturdiest boots, his sharpest scythe - the whole fear gauntlet, actually, impractical as it was - but nothing he’d go as far as to say he cherishes. Everything Jon owns is expendable, and no matter how attached he might be to something, there’s nothing he wouldn’t chuck in a fire instantly if he needed to.

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back.

“Unlimited access to test subjects wrapped in a stable paycheck. Arkham’s much more fun on the other side of the straitjacket.”

7) This character’s favorite character

I give up. It’s been days. Days that this post has sat in my drafts while I tried to think of this asshole’s favorite character, and I’ve got nothing. I’ve come up with a couple of disparate headcanons involving Jon and fiction in general, but I have no answer for this one. I offer this as a placeholder: “He doesn’t have any because he’s a contrary and insufferable bastard.”

8) What kind of car they would drive.

Dark, boring, older than sin. The gas pedal is the most abused piece of equipment in South Gotham. There’s a stain on the backseat floor that Jon says is coffee, and no one is brave enough to question him. Edward refuses to be seen dead in it. One day Jon’s gonna take that as a challenge.

9) What calms them when they are upset.

It really depends on the type of distress that it is. The basic scale is this:

Drumming his nails against things, or just tapping against the nearest flat surface if his nails aren’t long enough. (Common response to most grievances.)

Stepping outside for a smoke. He goes back inside when he either feels better or runs out of cigarettes.

Pacing inside or stalking through the streets like he’s on his way to kill somebody, taking small, petty pleasure watching people jump out of his way.

Stewing in a corner with a bottle of strong alcohol.

Actually killing somebody.

10) How they deal with pain.

Grits his teeth and bears it. The first lesson he ever learned.

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

As Scarecrow: His plague doctor mask, which replaced the traditional burlap after he stopped being able to feel fear.

As Jon: Custom winter gloves with longer fingers to accommodate his nails in the winter.

12) How they sleep.

I’ve talked about this before, actually! Here’s the quote:

Since he suffers from chronic insomnia and chronic I Have No Idea What Healthy Habits Look Like, Jonathan doesn’t go to bed very often. He’s more likely to pass out wherever he is - couch, desk, once on a morgue slab (don’t ask)… But when he does sleep in a bed, he tosses and turns a ridiculous amount. It’s not that he’s having nightmares (though with the way he moves, how could you tell), he just has a hard time getting comfortable. He’ll turn over at least 3-6 times before falling asleep, and he’ll keep shifting even after he does. It’s very common for Jonathan to fall asleep with three blankets and wake up with only one.

13) What kind of parent they would be.

*hysterical laughter* NO.

14) How they did in school.

He struggled with it a lot. Not because of a lack of intelligence or drive, but because:

Constant undernourishment and late night punishments made it difficult for Jon to stay awake in class. (His insomnia didn’t develop until he was in his early 20s.)

His homework was often late or mediocre because Jon did it after being beaten or kept busy with his grandmother’s laborious demands, if he was in a state to do it at all.

Jon’s glasses were almost never up to date. Constant squinting compounded by what Jon now knows were chronic migraines made class not only difficult to concentrate on, but physically painful.

Bullying. I don’t think I need to elaborate there.

Jon barely eked out a GPA high enough to get him into a local community college with the help of a scholarship targeted toward low-income families. Once his grandmother and bullies “helpfully” left the picture and Jon could focus on eliminating the obstacles above, he threw himself into his studies like a man possessed, and by the time he graduated, he’d secured himself entry to a post-baccalaureate program in Gotham. He used that as a stepping stone to med school and the rest is history.

15) What cologne or perfume they would use.

Jon doesn’t like either. His only indulgence in the smell department is almond-scented soap.

16) Their sexuality.

It varies depending on what version of him I’m playing, but it’s always either bi or gay.

17) What they’d sing at karaoke.

Something slow, creepy and mournful, probably not even on the set list, while he stares at you unblinking and makes you regret every decision in your life that helped force him onstage. You don’t ask for an encore.

18) Special talents they have.

Jon is double-jointed, a great whistler, sews all his costumes and is an adequate mechanic. See the “should be dead twelve times over” car he still drives. He’s also a better swimmer than people give him credit for, something that’s saved his life more than once.

19) When they feel safest.

In front of a fireplace. Jon can’t really explain it, nor does it make sense considering how much he hates heat in general. But there’s something about sitting in front of a fire that really relaxes him. (Don’t bother with the scarecrow/fire jokes, he’s heard them all.)

20) Household chore they hate the most.

Bathrooms.

21) Their fondest childhood memory.

“Killing them.”

22) How they spend their money.

Books, chemicals, caffeine, alcohol, weapons. And then living essentials. Maybe. Depends on how low he is on nicotine. (Jon’s spending habits are so predictable it became a running joke on campus, what did you expect.)

23) What kind of alcohol they drink.

He’s not picky, but nothing beats a finely aged whiskey. He’s also partial to Black Russians.

24) What they wish they could change about themselves.

Useful as it can be, Jon regrets the loss of his ability to feel fear. He also wishes he didn’t get migraines so often. Nothing on the personality front, though: Jon knows what he is.

25) What other people wish they could change about them.

Oh honey, there’s not enough hours in the day to list all that.

#lizard-hair #batman #jonathan crane #my headcanons #ask #i hope it was worth the wait bb #again THANK YOU #i could talk about my version of this asshole all day long

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years

Text

Planting Roots

Part of the A Garden in Gotham Series

Roman Sionis x Reader

Read the rest here

The days dragged on and you taught him more and more about your business when you could. You were also nearly done with your garden for the city. You’d left Roman with the shop to learn from your employees while you were finishing up this week. Part of you worried that he wouldn’t be as kind to your employees correcting him as he was with you, but you’d noticed that Roman was kinder lately, more patient. Perhaps it was because he was no longer spending so much time with Zsasz, or perhaps it was just because he was being good for you. Either way, you weren’t complaining. To be clear, you would have loved Roman no matter what, but to say you weren’t satisfied with the gradual changes you were noticing would be a lie. He seemed happier, and that made you happy.

After finishing the last section of your garden, you took a step back to admire your work. It was a symphony of color, a rainbow rising out of a city of gray. An oasis in a concrete desert. You didn’t worry about whether or not people would like it, because it was beautiful. It was one of those things where you knew its beauty could never be disputed. That was the thing with flowers that you loved the most. There was an innate perfection and beauty in all of them, from their petals to how the leaves grew on the stems. You took in a deep breath, breathing in the smell of the Earth mixed with the fragrance of your creation. No perfume was sweeter.

“You’ve done well,” a voice said from behind you.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I could never have done it without your resources, though,” you replied as he came to stand next to you.

“There’s a difference between having money and having a vision. Some people have one, some people have both. I feel like its the duty of those with money to help those with vision,” he replied.

You tilted your head up to him. “Don’t sell yourself short. Somehow... I feel like you have both. After all, you came up with this idea. You have a vision of a better Gotham, too.”

“More than you know,” he said with a cryptic smile.

“Well, it’s all set for the ceremony next weekend,” you replied, turning back to the garden.

“Are you ready for the ceremony?” he teased.

“What do you mean?”

“Your shop is already popular. However, when people see this, they’ll want more of your work. Perhaps it would be best if you hired some more employees to account for the sudden uptick in work you’ll be getting,” he replied.

Your mind drifted back to Roman’s proposal to open more shops in Gotham. Perhaps that may be your reality sooner than you had planned.

“Well, I have to get back to the office,” Wayne replied. “It was a pleasure working with you.”

“If you ever need any flowers, you know where to find me,” you smiled.

“Of course,” he smiled back before leaving.

You gave your garden a slow turn, double-checking your work before putting your tools away. A small smile grew on your face. You’d done well. You just hoped that Roman was having as good of a day as you were.

Roman sighed. “So, yellow roses mean friendship, but red roses mean love. Who the hell comes up with this stuff?”

One of your workers, Clarice, chuckled, “I don’t know. The meaning of flowers have been around for centuries.”

“Yes, well, as beautiful as it is, part of me wonders if we should have let it die, like we did with Latin,” Roman huffed.

“Now, Mr. Sionis, you can’t really mean that? After all, would you have won over the boss without the language of flowers?” Clarice asked, arranging a bouquet.

“Probably not,” he admitted, stroking a petal. “I’m not always the best with words. These flowers seemed to say the things I couldn’t.”

“That’s the beauty of them,” Clarice smiled.

“That’s not the only beauty,” Roman replied, eyes lighting up as he spotted you walking across the street.

Clarice blushed and then made herself scarce as you walked through the door.

“Well, darling, how is the garden?” Roman asked, coming over to wrap you in his arms.

“It’s... finished,” you replied, resting your hands on his chest, “It’s still hard to believe. For the past few weeks I’ve just been making little changes here and there, but now I’m officially satisfied with how it turned out.”

“That’s wonderful, though,” he smiled down at you.

“It is. I just... I feel like I need another project now,” you laughed, “I feel like I have too much free time now.”

“I’m sure business will be booming after the garden is opened,” Roman replied, kissing your forehead.

“I... I wanted to talk to you about that actually,” you said, looking up at him.

“What about it?” he asked, stroking your cheek.

“I think we should open another location,” you replied.

“I think that’s a great idea. Where would you want to open up shop?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’d like to open one in a low income neighborhood and have lower prices, but I also wouldn’t mind opening up in a high end neighborhood, either,” you replied.

“Why not open up in both?”

“Because I can’t afford that,” you replied like it was obvious.

“You may not be able to, but I can,” he said, gently tapping your nose.

“Roman, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you sighed.

“You’re not asking me to, I’m volunteering to. There’s a difference,” he grinned.

“I don’t want to be your charity case,” you said gently.

“You’re not my charity case. You’re the love of my life and I’ll do anything to make you happy,” he said adamantly. “Now, let me do some research and we’ll tour some locations next week.”

“Roman-”

“No. We’re doing this,” Roman insisted.

You sighed, knowing better than to argue with him when he had his sights set on something.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have about two more bouquets to finish,” Roman replied.

“Are we still on for a picnic later?” you asked.

“Of course. I’ll meet you at the garden at sunset. I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with it since last time,” he said before giving you a quick kiss. “Now, shoo. You’ve had a long day. Go home, take a hot bath and relax.”

You shook your head at him as you left. “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

There was a lot on your mind as you walked back to your apartment. Life these days was pleasant and easy with Roman. It made you want to go all in with him. As dangerous of a man as you knew he was, something about him made you feel safe. You knew that he would never hurt you. It was reinforced when you saw how devoted he was to making you happy. That was why tonight was going to be the night you asked him to move in with you. It would be easier for him to slip out of his old lifestyle if he wasn’t living on top of his club. You just worried that he wouldn’t say yes. After all, your apartment was a hole in the wall compared to his loft. He was used to the finer things. Would he resent you if he moved in with you? You had so many questions swirling in your head as you sunk down into the hot bath that you’d run. Regardless of your fears, you knew you wanted this with Roman. You wanted to plant roots to help your relationship grow even sturdier, and deep down you knew he wanted the same thing. After all, you don’t get into business with someone that you don’t plan on staying with.

Your bath did a lot to calm your nerves, but so did the glass of wine you had while you were in there. After you got out, you changed into some comfortable jeans and a nice shirt before setting up your picnic basket. It was a little nicer than your last picnic fare, but that was because you’d learned more about what he liked to eat. When you finished packing your basket, you looked outside and noticed the sun was starting to set. Pulling on your jacket, you picked up your spare apartment key and dropped it in the basket for later. Then, you made your way out and towards the garden for your date.

When Roman arrived, you’d already set everything up and turned on the fairy lights. His heart skipped a beat at how the light cast your body in a warm glow. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky, but he promised to himself that he would do everything to make sure he never fucked this up. Not like he fucked up everything else he’d touched.

“Darling, this is remarkable,” he stated, taking in the garden as he wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“You think?” you asked, leaning back into him.

“Of course. You’ve worked so hard. It’s really paid off,” he smiled.

“Shall we?” you asked, gesturing down to the picnic blanket.

He let you go and the two of you settled down to eat. He told you all about his day and how sometimes it was frustrating to learn, but he really thought he was getting the hang of things.

“I will never be as good as you, though,” he added, laying back on the blanket after he finished eating.

You laid down, settling into him and resting your head on his shoulder as you looked up at the sky. You loved the city, but you hated that you could never see the stars. “I think you’ll be a garden god in no time.”

“Your confidence in me is flattering,” he smirked, turning to kiss your forehead.

“Roman...” you gently ventured.

“Darling...” he said in the same tone.

You fiddled with the key in your hand, feeling the rose keychain in your fingers. Hesitantly, you placed it on his chest.

“What’s this?” he asked with a funny look, picking it up. “A key? Is it to your heart?”

“To my apartment,” you murmured.

Roman perked up, propping himself on his side to look into your face. “Are you...?”

“Am I...?” you asked innocently.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Yes, but, only if you want to. I know that your loft is so much larger, so moving into my apartment would be a downgrade and I don’t want you to-”

He cut you off with a kiss. His lips were soft as they pressed into yours, effectively shutting you up. Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back, reaching up to cup his face.

“Yes,” he murmured, pulling away far enough to look at you.

“Yes?” you asked giddily.

“Yes. I want to move in with you. I just... I don’t know how all my things will fit,” he replied.

“Well, if you have nicer furniture than I do, we can replace mine. My closet is huge for Gotham apartment living, and if you still want an office, I’m sure we can convert the storage room at the shop to one,” you offered.

“And the bouquets?” he asked.

“The dried ones?”

“Mhm. What about those?”

“Roman, you can’t keep them all. You can keep one or two,” you replied.

“But-”

“Roman, I work in a flower shop. As sweet as it is that you’ve saved all the bouquets that I’ve ever given you, we can’t feasibly keep them all. Besides, we work with them all day. We don’t need them,” you replied.

He actually started to pout, tugging at your heartstrings. You sighed.

“Fine. You can keep three. One for each bedroom, and one for the dining room,” you replied.

“Alright,” he grinned. Three was more than one. He’d take it. Besides, he didn’t need all of those flowers when he was going to be living with the most beautiful bloom of all, you.

“We can move you in this weekend. Next weekend I’ll be out of town,” you replied.

“For what?”

“A flower show,” you said.

“They have those?” he asked curiously.

“Of course! They have shows for anything these days,” you paused, noticing the look of wonder on his face. “Would you... would you like to come?”

“Oh, darling, can I?”

“Of course. In fact, that might be a great way for you to learn more about everything,” you replied.

He grinned, “Oh, I can’t wait.”

#roman x reader #Roman Sionis #roman sionis x reader #A Garden in Gotham

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mister-fleck · 5 years

Text

relax: arthur fleck x sophie

prompt: “Could you write arthur/sophie nsfw? I imagine him as less experienced than her, but so excited and happy to what’s going on.”

Arthur struck his lighter once, twice, three times before taking a deep pull off of his cigarette.

A week had gone by since Hoyt had fired him. That particular phone call still made Arthur’s cheeks burn with shame whenever he thought back on it — which was often. The whole ordeal skyrocketed Arthur’s already prominent amount of stress. Cash had grown tight, not that he had all that much saved up to begin with, and Arthur had been forced to take a step back and reevaluate how to spend what little change he had left.

And it was imperative that he did so. Arthur didn’t have the greatest resume, certainly no college degree, and the faded homeschooled certificate he kept stapled to it didn’t mean anything when it came to employers. Who in their right mind would hire somebody whose main credentials were clown and nice guy?

Due to the current hardship that life always seemed to throw at him, Arthur had disciplined himself into smoking less. He couldn’t afford the luxury of smoking two packs a day anymore, not with the responsibility of feeding his mother and paying the landlord.

He had waited all day to smoke this cigarette. Arthur had told himself that he would be rewarded with it at the end of the day, but only if he pushed himself out of his comfort zone to apply for work elsewhere. Interviews were always at the top of Arthur’s list when it came to what made him nervous. And nervousness led to anxiety, which led to paranoia, which led to laughter…

Today hadn’t gone any differently. Nobody even remotely considered him — Arthur had consistently struggled to find the right words to sell himself as a diligent employee. Which was frustrating, because Arthur knew he was a hard worker. He put his heart and soul into everything he did, especially when there was the possibility of failure. Yet none of this mattered, not when Arthur could only shrug and grasp at his throat when asked: where do you see yourself in five years?

But he had tried. Arthur had gotten dressed, combed back his hair, and put in the effort to further his life in this dreadful city called Gotham, so he deserved this damn cigarette.

Shoving his cold hands into his pockets, Arthur let the smoke travel into the furthest parts of his body before exhaling it during his walk home.

“C’mon, we’ve got to hurry it up. It’ll get cold out soon, baby girl.”

Arthur lifted his gaze from the filthy sidewalk and was met with the vision of a slender woman rounding the street corner, hand in hand with a little girl.

His cigarette nearly fell from between his lips. Sophie.

After their short encounter in the elevator, Arthur had developed a serious crush. He could count on his fingers how many women had offered him the time of day, let alone smile in his general direction — so their brief moment, no matter how insignificant it may have been for her, had been imprinted on his heart.

Arthur wasn’t proud of how he had followed her to work the day after. He hadn’t planned on it — Arthur had been on his way to the drug store when he spotted her leaving the apartment building, and well… he couldn’t stop himself. She pulled him forward unknowingly, like some sort of unrequited magnet.

He had even imagined her showing up at his apartment, flirting with him in his door way. Calling him funny.

And now they were walking in the same direction, the pair a few buildings away, their strides brisk. Sophie’s daughter was holding a red balloon and seemed to be disappearing in the fluffy winter jacket that she was bundled up in. Arthur’s eyes fell to their joined hands and envied the sight for more reasons than one.

“Gigi, come back here!”

Sophie’s sudden demand pulled Arthur out of his thoughts and he focused on what was playing out before him: the red balloon was now a few feet away from the two of them, most likely having been blown away from the late October breeze, and Gigi’s little feet were pitter-pattering in the same direction, determined to catch it.

Right into oncoming traffic.

Breath hitching, Arthur tossed aside his cigarette and broke into a clumsy sprint toward the child without hesitation, nearly falling flat on his face in the process, but managed to grab Gigi by the back of her coat and yank her onto the sidewalk before a taxi cab could smack right into the side of her.

The rest was a blur. Arthur’s throat clenched and unclenched as he knelt on the sidewalk, his lungs burning, his nose pink and itchy from the chill. He heard Sophie scold her daughter somewhere behind him, her voice tight with concern and anger and thick with tears. A soft hand fell against his shoulder soon thereafter.

“Jesus Christ, thank you so much, are you okay?”

Arthur began to laugh.

It came out in sharp bursts, loud and jagged, each peal like a bruising kick to his chest. Mortified and nearly hyperventilating, Arthur buried his face in the crook of his elbow and fought off the urge to curl up into the fetal position. He clenched his fist and slammed it once against the pavement as he drowned in his own self-hatred.

The hand on his shoulder retreated and Arthur’s heart broke. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let this be how Sophie perceived him, not as some delusional sicko devoid of empathy. Anguished, he dug around in his pants pocket until he felt thin plastic and held the card up over his head as he succumbed to more agonizing laughter.

To his embarrassment, it took Arthur nearly a full minute to calm down, and by then he had accepted the fact that Sophie had probably left him there out of pity. But as he lifted his head, now throbbing and heavy, Arthur saw that she was kneeling beside him, dark eyes wide with worry.

Sophie smiled sadly at him, but didn’t move away. Instead, she parted her lips. “Hey.”

Arthur, out of his mind and abruptly infatuated, returned the favor. “Hey.”

An hour later, Arthur found himself seated in Sophie’s apartment, perched nervously on the edge of her couch with his hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee. He turned the mug over and smiled at the messy, painted lettering splayed across it: Best Mommy Ever.

Arthur’s heart had been hammering away ever since Sophie had invited him back to her place. He had politely insisted that repaying him wasn’t necessary, but thankfully she was insistent on patching up his banged up hand.

“Thank you for waiting,” Sophie murmured, reemerging from Gigi’s bedroom. “Had to check under the little one’s bed for monsters. You know how children can be.”

With the way Sophie looked in her sweater and leggings, Arthur felt like a little kid himself, dazed and bashful in her presence. He smiled up at her.

“I used to work with them,” he heard himself admit, knees pressed together and ears heating up. “I’d entertain the kids down at Gotham Children’s Hospital.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. “I’m a party clown.”

Sophie broke out into a bright grin and Arthur could have passed out. “Really? That’s so sweet, Arthur.” She rounded the couch to sit next to him, not too close, but not far away either. “That’s your name, right? Arthur Fleck?”

Please never stop saying my name. “Yes. Arthur.”

Picking up her own mug from the coffee table in front of them, Sophie leaned back into the couch and crossed one long leg over the other. “I’ve always liked that name.”

She took a sip. Arthur mimicked her, letting the hot liquid soothe his throat. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s sweet. And distinguished.”

Looking down at his wrinkled jacket and beat up corduroy slacks, Arthur lifted one of his shoulders quietly. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been distinguished, but I try my best to be sweet.” His voice was small, meek.

“You’re kind of precious, you know that?” Sophie commented bluntly, her eyes flitting about him. “My neighbor said that you were kind of a creep, but I don’t think that’s the case at all.”

Arthur sagged a little. “They said that?” Hoping to rectify his reputation, he leant forward slightly, earnestly. “I swear, I’m a good guy, I’m just a little…”

“Shy.” Sophie finished for him, still smiling.

She was the sun. She was the moon, the stars, the unimaginable in-between. Arthur’s pulse skipped. “Yeah.”

Arthur wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but midway through the evening news Sophie had allowed herself to scoot closer, resting her head against his shoulder and lifting her legs up onto the couch as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. He didn’t breathe for a solid two minutes, unaware of what god to thank for blessing him.

Sophie’s voice came softly, “Is it okay if I…?”

Arthur looked down to see one of her delicate, feminine hands tugging at his sleeve and he nodded fervently, lifting his arm so she could curl up underneath it. Content, Sophie hummed and went back to watching the weather man on the small television set across from them.

He could have cried. Arthur didn’t know whether to feel confident or insecure — she had to have felt comfortable around him to be so intimate, which majorly stroked his ego, but did she simply feel obligated to be kind to him, after how he saved her daughter? Did Sophie mind that he smelled like cigarettes and cheap laundry detergent? Was he too thin, too bony to rest against? Was he —

“Your heart is beating so fast.”

Arthur’s thoughts halted. He felt his mouth go dry. “I’m sorry.”

Sophie reached out and squeezed his knee. “Relax. You deserve to, you know.”

“Are you real?” He had blurted it out without thinking, a tremble in his voice. It was a strange combination, Arthur realized, to be smitten and terrified all at once.

He felt her body shake with soft laughter. “You’re so funny, Arthur.”

You’re so funny, Arthur.

Arthur’s heart began to break. He cursed his overactive imagination and squeezed his eyes tight, words tumbling out haphazardly, “It’s just, you’re so kind to me, and you’re beautiful, and I would hate it if you were… if you weren’t…” He struggled to find the right words, as usual. “If I was dreaming.”

There was movement against him, careful and gentle, and when Arthur opened his eyes he found Sophie much, much closer. Straddling his lap. Smirking at him.

“Does this feel like a dream?”

Both so slowly and all at once, Sophie cradled his face in her hands and captured his mouth in a warm kiss.

The world faded away. For the first time all night, Arthur allowed himself to turn off his brain and just enjoy her, her company, the way her body fit perfectly in his arms — which were now wrapped carefully, tenderly around her — the way her fingernails felt as they scratched affectionately against the back of his neck before sinking into his hair.

They kissed for a long time, languidly, unhurried. Not even the opening theme to The Murray Franklin Show could pull him out of this moment, not with how Sophie was beginning to roll her hips and nibble at his bottom lip.

Arthur was hard instantly, despite how innocently he was maintaining his posture, how modestly he was holding the woman. Sophie must have noticed though, because she pulled back with a vixen-like grin, the both of them out of breath.

“Sorry,” Arthur rasped, a bit of a grimace on his face as he tried to fight back the urge to buck his hips up into her.

Sophie’s face was flushed as she stole another kiss, her lips brushing against his as she spoke, “You really are precious.”

Sensing his distress, she reached back to take one of Arthur’s hands and guided it wordlessly down the front of her pants and over drenched panties.

Arthur’s cock twitched in his underwear. “Oh, god…”

The both of them sat panting, foreheads pressed together, adjusting to the fact that they were now openly expressing how much they wanted one another in this moment.

“Touch me,” Sophie prompted, a shaky whisper.

Arthur shuddered, swallowed hard. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Horribly inexperienced, Arthur nodded and cautiously dipped his fingertips beneath her panties and let them slide against slick, swollen flesh. He groaned softly and let his gaze fall, hypnotized by the sight of his hand lost behind the fabric.

Sophie whimpered immediately, hands back in Arthur’s hair. He began to rub little circles right where she needed it most. “U-Uh huh, just like that. Fuck.”

Arthur was flying high. He hadn’t managed to mess up all night, which in turn led him to think that this may still all be some very vivid dream, but the way Sophie’s lithe little body trembled against him, how soaked his hand became as the minutes went by of him teasing her — that was enough to make him feel tall, broad. Like a man.

Soon, Sophie was shaking like a leaf and squeezing at Arthur’s shoulders insistently. “Take…Take my pants off.”

Arthur blinked in surprise, but he didn’t need to be asked twice. He retreated his wet hand — earning him a sharp gasp from Sophie — and helped her wriggle out of her leggings and panties. They were both a little clumsy and began to chuckle, but Arthur’s laughter turned into a moan when her hand palmed at his crotch.

“S-Sophie, you don’t have to—“

“Shh,” she cooed. “I want to make you feel good.”

His chest began to heave in anticipation and Arthur knew he had to be honest with her before they went any further. “I’ve never done this before.”

Sophie hummed, kissed him hotly. He heard the metallic scratching of his zipper being pulled down. “Then let me teach you.”

All he could do was nod and look up at her, pupils dilated, pulse skyrocketing. He wiped his sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants before scooting back to allow Sophie to pull his throbbing erection out of his briefs.

“Wow,” Sophie breathed, skimming the pad of her thumb over the tip of his cock and eying the size of him. “Good for you, Arthur.”

Arthur’s chest swelled with pride, feeling validated and maybe even attractive for the first time in his entire life, but he didn’t let it get to his head. He couldn’t, not with the way Sophie had wrapped her fist around him and was beginning to stroke him lazily.

A whine tore out of his chest. “I don’t have a condom,” he managed to say, seeing stars and shuddering.

Sophie licked her lips and shook her head briefly, her voice low with lust, “That’s— That’s fine. I’m on birth control.”

“Oh,” Arthur replied lamely, a bit strangled. “Okay.”

“Arthur?”

Green eyes lifted to brown. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

Arthur surged forward and did as he was told, and she swallowed his moan when he realized that she was about to straddle him in an entirely different way. He wasn’t sure of where to put his hands, whether it would be impolite to take her by the hips, or too awkward to keep them at his sides, so he gingerly held her face instead and braced himself.

Sophie felt absolutely divine as she sunk down onto him. She was warm — no, hot — and so wet, smooth and delicious and his hips jerked up as a reaction, making her squeak in pleasured surprise.

They fell into a slow, heady, delicious rhythm, guided mostly by Sophie who seemed to be loving taking control. Arthur’s hands fell to her waist, nothing demanding but enough to express that he never wanted her to stop fucking him.

“You feel so good,” Arthur stammered, his hot face pressed against her shoulder as she continued to ride him with leisurely rolls of her hips. He lost control a second time, his hips snapping up once more.

Sophie muffled a breathy cry into his hair and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Do… do that again, baby.”

Baby.

Tightening his grip on her waist, Arthur began to pump his hips up into her steadily now, his brow furrowed as he focused on keeping it together. “Like this?”

“God, yeah,” Sophie breathed, her head falling back in pleasure. “You’re a fast learner.”

Arthur felt her clench around him and he hissed, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to hold off much longer. He sped up unconsciously, the sound of her ass slapping against the tops of his thighs making him dizzy.

“Sophie, I think I’m going to…” He didn’t know how to explain himself, not wanting to be crude.

“Me too,” she reassured him quickly, matching his feverish pace. The tightness in Arthur’s belly was about to snap. Her voice grew light and needy, “With me, Arthur! Now, right now! Fuck!”

Sophie’s pussy spasmed hard around his cock and Arthur’s vision went white as he came inside of her. The ecstasy that crashed over him seemed to last forever, intense and heavenly, and he had to bite down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying out.

Almost five minutes passed before the trembling aftershocks between the two of them subsided and Sophie leaned back to press her lips to Arthur’s forehead.

“Wanna cigarette?” She murmured, threading her fingers through his hair, still very much on top of him.

A smile slowly flirted with Arthur’s lips. “Yes, please.”

#arthur fleck x sophie #arthur fleck #joker #joker movie #arthur fleck x reader #drabble

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thebluenebula · 3 years

Text

Ashleigh Wayne AU Masterlist

Siobhan's First Visit (Part 1/2)

~1700 words

Kidnapped (Part 2/2)

Major Characters: Ashleigh(OC), Siobhan (OC), Cassie Sandsmark, Harper Row

Minor Characters: Alfred Pennyworth, Carrie Kelley, Duke Thomas

Ashleigh's best friend from back Ireland is finally coming to visit, what could go wrong?

"Nervous?" Cassie asked, as the pair watched another plane land.

"A little," Ash admitted.

"Why?"

"It's been over a year, maybe she'll be different, or not like me any more."

Cassie took Ash's hand in hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "She's one of your best friends, time or distance won't change that."

Ash lay her head onto Cassie's shoulder. "Thank you for coming with me."

"I wouldn't miss the chance to meet Siobhan in person. So, what exactly should I be looking for?" She asked, gesturing to the crowd of people going in, and out of the terminal.

"Curly red hair, pale skin, freckles, green eyes."

"Irish, got it."

It wasn't long before Siobhan arrived. She immediately dashed over, and wrapped her arms around Ash. "It's so good to see you."

"You too, I've missed you."

"I'm sorry I took so long, I couldn't find my bag," she let go of Ash, and looked to Cassie, "At least you weren't waiting alone, Cassie Sandsmark, right?"

"Right," she shook her hand, "it's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Siobhan glanced at Ash, "I was beginning to think she'd made you up."

"I'm as real as you," Cassie stated.

"Or are you?"

"Yes?"

"Maybe," Siobhan turned to Ash, "you're just paying her to show up, and pretend to your girlfriend."

"Yes, Siobhan, I have in fact paid Cassie copious amounts of money to pose as my girlfriend."

"Knew it."

Cassie giggled. "Should I expect a lot of this?"

"You never know what to expect with Siobhan."

"I don't know what to expect of you," Siobhan retaliated, prodding her, "we have a lot of catching up to do."

"We can catch up in the car, I don't want to be late for dinner, Jay's cooking."

The three headed to the car.

"So who drove you here," Siobhan asked, "or have you learned to drive yet?"

"Alfred," Ash replied, gesturing to the man waiting by the car, "and I am learning to drive."

"About time," Siobhan smiled at Alfred, "I've heard a lot about you too."

"Likewise, may I take your bags?"

Siobhan spent the car ride to the manor catching them up on what she had been up to in Ireland since Ash had left.

Soon they reached the manor, and Siobhan's jaw dropped as she stepped out of the car. "Holy shit."

Ash stood by her. "I showed you photos."

"None of them did it justice."

"I know."

"Think he'd adopt me?"

"Do not tempt him," Alfred warned as he walked past, carrying her bags.

"Let me help you," Ash said, attempting to take a suitcase.

Cassie smacked her hand away. "I'll help him, you go catch up with her. Why else did you bring me, if not for manual labour?"

"You know, that's not why I invited you."

"I know, Ash, it was a joke, I promise, but seriously go catch up with her, I've got these."

Ash reluctantly agreed, and went over to Sobhan, who had wandered away to admire one of the many sculpted bushes.

Siobhan glanced back at her as Ash approached. "Cassie's cute, Ash, the pictures didn't do her justice either. If she wasn't dating you, I'd definetly try my luck."

Ash glared at her. "Seriously?"

"You still haven't forgiven me, have you?"

"You broke his heart."

"He forgave me."

"I never will, not for that," Ash sighed, "look, I don't want this stay to get off to a bad start."

"A little late for that, don't you think?"

"You two coming?" Cassie shouted to them from the door.

"Can we just pretend this never happened?" Ash asked Siobhan.

"Course," she lightly punched Ash's shoulder, and took off up the steps, "last one in is sleeping on the floor."

Ash smiled, and quickly took off after her. "You know neither of us have to sleep on the floor."

"Whichever one of us is last does."

Siobhan beat Ash to the door by a second, due to Ash slipping halfway up the steps.

"I'll inform Master Bruce that you have arrived," Alfred told them, "if you head to the dining room, Miss Siobhan can get acquainted with the others before diner."

"Thanks Alfred."

The three headed to the dining room where most of the Wayne's were waiting for dinner.

As Ash expected, Siobhan immediately got along well with her siblings. Dinner soon arrived, along with the rest of the Wayne's. The dinner went well, typical questions, lots of banter, everyone had taken an immediate liking to Siobhan's outgoing personality.

Afterwards, the three decided to head to Ash's room, along with Harper, Carrie, and Duke.

"So, where's the famous Kate that I've heard so much about?" Siobhan asked as they left the dining room.

"Italy, hopefully enjoying herself."

"And I was so looking forward to meeting her."

"One of her friends planned a trip away, she didn't know even know till the night before."

Once in Ash's room, Siobhan plopped herself down on the bed. "So soft, though I still don't understood your insistence on having a single bed."

"It takes up less place."

"This room is at least three or four times bigger then your old one. How much more room could you need?"

"You never know."

"So, what now?"

Ash glanced to the others, they all shrugged. "I don't know, what do you want to do?"

Siobhan smirked. "I've got a couple of ideas."

The week came, and went, and soon came the final day of the visit. The group had managed to do everything Siobhan could think of, leaving her with only one idea left.

"I can't leave America without visiting at least one pub."

Harper looked to the others. "It has been a while."

Carrie excitedly jumped up from the couch. "I'm in, let's go."

"I'll grab the IDs," Duke said, as he left the room.

"Oh yeah," Siobhan muttered, "You have to be twenty one to drink here. Will that be a problem?"

"Not where we're going," Harper explained, "the IDs are just incase."

Carrie, and Siobhan left the room, excitedly chattering, leaving Ash, and Harper alone.

"Are you alright?" Harper asked.

"Fine."

"It's just... you've been quiet all night."

"I'm fine, Harper," Ash smiled at her, "let's catch up with the others."

"Alright, how about you call Cassie, see if she wants to meet us there?"

"I'll call her, yeah."

Cassie met them at the bar. Once inside, Siobhan insisted on ordering the drinks, so her, and Ash took a seat at the bar, while the others got a booth.

Once she order, Siobhan looked to Ash. "You're paying, right?"

"Course."

"Then I am going to enjoy tonight." She turned to the bartender. "One for me, one for her."

"Just for her. I'm not drinking tonight."

"Boring, two for me then. Trust you, Ashleigh, go to a bar, and don't get alcohol. I bet you haven't even drank yet, have you?"

"I have too."

"Is that right? What happened?"

"Nothing, I had a couple drinks with my siblings, that's it."

Harper leaned against Ash's back. "You seem to have left out the part where we got pissed drunk, and begged Kate to give us tattoos."

"You what?" A look of surprise was struck across Siobhan's face. "Maybe you're not the same girl that I knew back in Ireland."

"Maybe not."

"Did you get a tattoo?"

"No, I didn't."

The three headed to the booth with the drinks, and the group enjoyed the night

Almost an hour later Cassie stood up from the booth, and tugged Ash's arm. "Come on, let's get some fresh air."

Ash followed her out of the pub, a cold breeze went through the two, Cassie wrapped her arms around Ash, and cuddled into her. "You alright?"

"Course, are you?"

"Don't flip this around, Harper mentioned you seemed off."

"You know I get like that sometimes, you don't have to worry about it."

"This is different, the happier everyone in there gets," she gestured to the pub, "the more off you seem."

"It's nothing Cassie."

"Ash, you can talk to me about anything, you know that."

"I know," she leaned into Cassie's shoulder, "and thank so much for that."

A cough caught their attention. Siobhan stood a few feet away, grinning. "Am I interrupting? I can leave."

They broke apart. "That's okay," Ash said, "what are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you, you just kinda disappeared."

"I just needed some air," Cassie lied, "that place smells like someone died in there."

"This being Gotham, someone probably has," Ash added.

"How about a walk?" Siobhan suggested, gesturing up the street.

The two agreed, and they headed up the street, chatting, and looking in the windows of the shops they passed.

Cassie stopped outside of a chipper. "I could die for a burger right now," she looked to the other two, "want anything?" The two shook their heads. "Alright, I'll just be a few minutes."

"Alright, we'll wait here." Ash said. When she turned around, Siobhan had wandered up the street. She ran after her. "Where are you going?"

"I'm just window shopping, we're only up the street," the two stopped outside of clothes shop, "I still can't believe you of all people got a girlfriend."

"Did you really think I would be alone forever?"

"I was starting to, I mean you could barely talk to a person you didn't like, never mind someone you really liked."

"Fair point, but Cassie's different, she's one of my best friend's, and takking to her is easy."

"I'm happy for you. I really am."

Before Ash could respond a car came to a sudden halt beside them. They barely had time to shout as three people jumped out. One swung a bat at Ash, she blocked the first swing, then struck the attacker, knocking them back, but a second bat struck her from behind, knocking her to the ground.

She looked up to see one of the attackers toss Siobhan into the back of the car. Another reached for Ash but was sent flying through the air.

Cassie took a defensive stance over her. "Get the hell away from her!"

The two remaining attackers pulled out a pair of pistols, Cassie dodged the shots with little effort, and slammed into one, sending them through a nearby store window. As she charged at the other, the driver of the car sped off.

After Cassie took down the last attacker, she rushed to Ash's side. "Are you okay?"

"The car! Get the car!"

Cassie quickly took to the sky as Ash fished out her phone, and quickly rang Babs.

So this idea has been in the works for quite a while, and surprisingly hasn't change as much as I would have expected from the original idea.

For once, I actually have the second half already finished, so that'll be posted tommorow about 7-ish GMT if your interested in it, and as always, I hope ye enjoyed - TBN :) 💙💜💙

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pocket-clown · 4 years

Text

Cooking dinner for Arthur Fleck may include;

// original request: How about cooking dinner for Arthur?😊

thank you, anon!!

After countless grueling hours spent in the streets of Gotham, twirling signs and dancing through the shoves and glares from those around him, few things can even compare to the feeling of relief that floods him once he steps into the apartment and remembers that you’re there, too, now.

But what were you doing? Most nights he’d find you on the couch, or in the bedroom - but tonight, much to his surprise, you were.... cooking? He couldn’t be entirely sure, but with how the apartment smelled and the way you were hovering over the stove, he could only assume such.

The thought that it might be for him doesn’t even cross his mind. He assumes that you’re making it for a sick neighbor or for someone at work, but once you tell him that no, it’s for him because not only did he need it, but that he deserved it as well, he goes silent.

When was the last time someone cooked for him? Or better yet - the last time he had a home cooked meal? It’s definitely been a long, long time since the latter, and an even longer time since the former - assuming that it’s even happened before (which, if we’re being real, probably hasn’t).

More often than not, it was him caring for others; others being his mother most of the time, but now including you - so he can’t help but be a bit confounded, especially since he so often tells himself that he isn’t deserving of that sort of thing.

“Oh, sweetheart, please…” He says after a moment of watching you as you move about the cramped kitchen. Arthur doesn’t want you to feel like you have to take care of him; he always finds himself agonizing that his wants, his needs, his struggles may one day be too much of a burden on you. “You’re really doing all of this for me?”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Well, yeah - you’ve been working so hard lately, and I thought that you deserved something nice and homemade, you know?” You said with a shrug; it wasn’t like you were even doing much - it was just a dish of spaghetti. “I want to make sure you’re at least eating. It’s just something small.”

To Arthur, though, it was much more; not only had he (and just about everyone around him) spent so long neglecting his own needs that he often forgot that he had them in the first place, but it was a level of genuine love he’d.... never actually got to experience before. So much of his thought space was occupied by the constant, festering thoughts that he wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t deserving, that even the smallest bit of kindness extended his way was hard to comprehend at times. Even well into his relationship with you is this a struggle, and with each and every new behavior - such as cooking for him - does he have to take a minute to actually let it settle in his mind that you’re doing it because you love him.

I’ve said it before, but he’s an absolute sucker for simple, yet domestic things; it’s been a distant, longstanding fantasy of his that he never thought he’d ever get to actually experience, so to be able to actually engage in it leaves him on cloud nine once he’s adjusted to it. It’s a refuge from the callous nature of the city that looms over the two of you, and even if it’s only for a short hour or two, it offers some respite from what goes on inside his head.

He loves to come up behind you and wrap his arms snugly around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder so he can press a sweet kiss to the side of your neck and watch whatever it is that you’re doing.

Regardless of what you made, whether it was a simple dish of spaghetti and meatballs or something as extravagant as roasted chicken, Arthur always has something nice to say about it. Most of his cooking experience stems from heating up the TV dinners and oatmeal that made up most of his and his mother’s diet, so anything beyond that is impressive to him. He compliments your cooking as much as he can; he’s shy about it at first, but the taste, how wonderful it smells, even how it’s presented - he wants you to know how appreciative he is of your effort to take care of him. He thanks you profusely, and even tells you that if it’s too much, you don’t have to do it.

He’s torn between wanting to offer his help when you cook but worrying that he’ll just be getting in your way. You can almost see the internal conflict going on in his head as he lingers in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes looking between you, the counter top, the stove - before he makes his way back to wherever he was before, only to return a few minutes later, rinse, and repeat. Poor man definitely wants to help you out - he feels like you should be the one resting - but just doesn’t know how to.

Once you extend an invitation for him to help out (while stressing that only if he wants to, so he doesn’t feel obligated) it quickly becomes one of his favorite ways to spend time with you. As said before, he really doesn’t have much experience with cooking, so it’ll be you doing most of it - but he’ll help out! Show him how to cut an onion properly, or have him wash the vegetables, and he’ll do it, asking every so often if he’s doing it right.

Ask him to taste test something and he will - any excuse to try what you made is a good one! Every now and then he may even sneak a taste, when he’s feeling a bit mischievous (not that you’d complain).

He insists that he should take care of the dishes and cleaning up since you were the one who did all of the cooking, though with just enough push from you, he’ll relent and allow you to help him out. Just giving Arthur a taste of the life he’s dreamed about in far off fantasies for so long is enough to leave him craving more, so don’t be surprised if every now and then he asks if you two can cook something together, a shy smile on his face as he rubs the back of his neck.

He’ll even try to repay the favor - but again, the majority of his cooking experience comes from heating up frozen meals for his mother and himself, so he’s quite shy about how his cooking is. It’s never anything very fancy (or fancy at all), but the fact that he was trying makes up for it.

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taglist;

@tahliamalfoydepp @tsukiakarinobara @smol-nari @ajokeformur-ray @lavenderheartz @lady-carnivals-stuff @darknessisafriend @emissarydecksetter @fleckcmscott @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #joker #joker 2019 #joker x reader #joker x you #joker 2019 x reader #joker 2019 x you #arthur fleck headcanon #joker headcanons #joker 2019 headcanons #mine

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darkshadow90 · 4 years

Text

His Obsession Chapter 1

AN: Hey, everyone. I posted about a story I’ve been working on for Joker (2019). I’ve posted it on Archive of Our Own and thanks to some really nice, encouraging people on here, I decided to share it on here too. I’ve written 20 chapters so far. Here’s the first chapter. Arthur is a little darker in this than what a lot of people are used to, but hopefully you’ll still like it. Just a heads up: There’s stalking, obsessive thoughts and behavior and kidnapping. If that’s not your thing, you may want to skip this. Also, I’m posting this with a mobile device so I’m really sorry if the format is crap. Let me know if you want me to post more of the chapters.

Chapter 1

It was another day that ended the same as any other day. The subway was crowded as always. There were so many people from all walks of life. Men, women the rich and the poor. It was dirty and rundown, much like the city. Ashe couldn’t afford to live in a nice city like Metropolis, so she moved to Gotham. She was taking in the atmosphere when she looked to her left. She noticed a man. He was wearing a tan hoodie. He looked gaunt, very thin. He had brown hair that was combed back and appeared to be in his mid to late thirties, possibly early forties. It was hard to know for sure since he was so emaciated. He was looking out his window. He was so sad. A man dressed in a nice black suit was sitting next to him. He was obviously more affluent than some of the others Ashe could see on the subway. She noticed the man was covering his mouth, strange sounds coming from his throat. He was shaking. Was he coughing? No. He was desperately trying not to laugh. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. He exploded into a fit of laughter. It wasn’t normal laughter, she could tell he was trying so hard to regain control of himself. He looked like he was in pain. It made her uncomfortable and she looked away. It annoyed the man next to him. “Is something funny, pal?” The man kept laughing. “Stop laughing at me, asshole!” The man was able to get himself under control a bit. He took out a card to show the other man. “I’m not...I’m sorry...I..I...have...a...condition.” He managed to choke out. “Oh, yeah? A condition? I’ll give you a condition!” He knocked the card from the man’s hand and shoved him. That was when Ashe stepped in. “Hey! Knock it off!” The man looked at her, insulted that she was coming to the defense of the man who was laughing at him. “This asshole is laughing at me! He’s making fun of me!” “He said he was sorry. Leave him alone.” “Yeah whatever. You deal with him, then!” He stormed off. Ashe went over to help the thinner man. “Did he hurt you?” Arthur looked up at her shocked. He didn’t know what to say. Someone actually helped him? Actually noticed him? “N-no. I’m okay. You see me?” Ashe giggled. “Of course I see you. Why wouldn’t I see you? Looks like you dropped this. Here you go.” She handed the card up to Arthur and an overwhelming sensation shot through him when his hand brushed up against hers. It was so soft. He never felt that before from anyone. “I’m Ashe. What’s your name?” “Oh...my name is... A...Arthur.” “Nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” “Yeah...” There was a long pause before they got off the subway. “Well, bye!” She joyfully skipped off. There was something so charming about it, innocent. Arthur was infatuated with her. How was she so jovial in a place like Gotham? He wanted to follow her, to know more. But he decided not to...for the moment.

That night, Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about Ashe. He thought about how she was nothing like the women in his magazines. The way she looked at him. Her smile and eyes were so warm. She cared about him. She was a good person in this shit hole of a city. Not even his own mother looked at him that way. Penny was the only woman in Arthur’s life. She only talked about herself and Thomas Wayne. She didn’t show as much concern for Arthur. He was so lonely. He wanted, no, needed Ashe’s warmth and compassion. He needed her in his life. He needed to find her, make her his. ‘No. It’s not right. Don’t think that way. You barely know each other.’ He fought with himself internally. He barely slept the rest of the week as thoughts about Ashe took over.

The next week, Arthur was walking outside one night and just by coincidence, he saw Ashe. ‘What’s she doing out so late at night alone? It’s not safe. Is she not aware of how dangerous Gotham is, especially at night?’ She was walking down the streets and saw a homeless man. Arthur saw them talking and noticed she had half a sandwich and gave it to the man. Arthur couldn’t believe it. Ashe was a genuinely nice person. It was at that moment Arthur knew what he had to do. He had to have her. He had to keep her safe, protect her from Gotham. He wouldn’t let her become another victim of its cruelty. He would do anything to make the woman he loves happy. In his mind, she loves him too. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Arthur followed Ashe and kept his distance. He found out where she worked. She worked at a printing shop. It wasn’t too far from the coffee shop. It made it easy enough for him to follow her. She went there twice a day. She went every morning at 6:00am and again at 2:00pm when she got off work. He didn’t mind waiting for her shifts to end each day. He knew it would pay off. She ordered the same drink every time; a capo chino with heavy liquid creamer, extra sugar, and three sticks of cinnamon. He picked up on all her little mannerisms he adored so much. He loved the way she bit on her bottom lip when she was thinking. He loved her laugh when she talked with friends. He loved the jovial skip she had in her step whenever she was happy, eyes filled with a love for life. It was precious. He knew every route she took to every place she went. She even lived in the same building. He took note of the door to her apartment. The door didn’t have the best lock, probably because the building is so old. Fortunately for him it meant that it would be easy to get inside. One day, while Ashe was at work, Arthur decided to break into her apartment. He was in no hurry, he knew he had plenty of time. The layout wasn’t much different from his apartment. The furniture was slightly nicer. There was just enough room for a bookshelf in the living room too. All things considered, her apartment was tidy. He eventually made it to her small bedroom. There wasn’t much furniture in it. There was a small nightstand, a dresser, and to his delight a twin bed. As he expected it confirmed she didn’t have a man in her life. Arthur couldn’t help himself. He got on her bed and laid in it. It was very comfortable for such a small bed. He leaned over to the pillow and inhaled Ashe’s scent. She smelled amazing, like cocoa and cookies. He laid there for awhile longer. As he left, he was careful not to leave any trace that he was there. He decided he would come back for her when she was asleep.

Arthur decided to lay on his bed for a bit. He imagined them going on dates together. Ashe would laugh at his jokes, tell him what a sweet man he is for loving her. He imagined her close to him in bed, touching and caressing each other. He would whisper sweet things to her in their moments of passion. He wondered if she had ever been with a man before. She seemed naive. She was so trusting and fearless. She was willing to roam the streets of Gotham alone at night. That homeless man she gave her sandwich to could have been anyone. He could have mugged her...or worse. Arthur knew she could easily be taken advantage of. She was so sweet, so soft, so..pure. Even if she had been with a man before, he knew he needed to be gentle with her. He would take his time with her, savor the moment. He imagined all the little gasps and noises she would make, how she would call out to him. It was too much. He relieved himself. He never had such an intense release. He felt guilty he felt shame for thinking of her that way, but he knew it wasn’t dirty since he loved her. He got up, changed the sheets and got cleaned up for the night. He didn’t want her sleeping on dirty sheets, or to wake up near a dirty man.

It was finally time for Ashe to be asleep. Arthur made his movie. He carefully opened her door and snuck inside quietly shutting the door behind him. He made his way to her bedroom. He was careful and quiet. He didn’t want to scare her and wake her. Everything would be ruined then. He took his time. He saw her sleeping so peacefully completely unaware of what was going on. He approached the bed and gently placed his arms underneath her. “No. Go away.” Arthur froze. He thought she had woken up, but was relieved when she rolled closer to him. He realized she was talking in her sleep. He carefully lifted her from the bed and put her over his shoulder. This had turned out to be even better than he thought. He made his way back to his apartment. He placed her in his bed and waited for her to wake up the next morning.

Ashe woke up in a completely unfamiliar place. The bed she was asleep in was bigger than hers. The walls were peeling and the wallpaper had flowers on it. It was clearly a bedroom for a couple. The poor woman began to panic. Who’s room was this? Someone kidnapped her, but who? “I’m so glad you’re awake.” She looked to her right and saw a very thin man shirtless his smile beaming at her. She didn’t know who he was at first, but then she remembered the incident from nearly a month ago when she helped a man on the subway. “Arthur?” He nodded, overjoyed she remembered him. “You’re so peaceful when you sleep.” ‘Okay, so he watched me sleep? Not only that, but he watched me all this time and I had no idea. Something is very wrong with him.’ She was trying to stay calm. “Arthur, why am I here?” She could barely keep her voice calm. “I brought you home.” ‘He thinks we’re a couple. What the fuck?’ Thoughts were racing through her head. She was trapped with an unstable man and scared out of her mind. There was no one she could call for help. All she could do was brace herself for what was to come and try to escape at the right time.

#arthur fleck #joker movie #joker fandom #joker 2019

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aerynwrites · 5 years

Text

Happiness

Arthur Fleck x Reader

Request: @glitterypinkkitty Hi! Could you please do Joaquin’s joker encountering poor reader being bothered by some rich dudes? Thank you :)

Warnings: cursing, violence, blood, sadness? idk lol

Word Count: 1,874 (whoops)

Author’s Note: Okay, I got kinda carried away with this one lol. I really enjoyed writing this but i feel like it may be out of character a little bit? I found it a bit challenging to write Arthur not in a terrible situation. Is that bad? I guess what i’m trying to say is that since all i have for reference is the movie, which is ALL negative and sad, It was hard for me to capture what he would be like not in those situations. SO, please let me know how you think I did! What can I improve on? What did I do well? any criticism is helpful. I hope you enjoy! thanks for the request!

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“W-what do you mean its $32.84?” you stammer as you cast a panicked glance at your small group of groceries on the corner market counter. You check to make sure nothing extra was added to the pile, and upon confirming this fact you look back to the clerk.

“It’s never been this much Walter!” you’re getting hysterical now, you couldn’t afford the uptick in price, “I-it’s always been $22.73, every time, for the last however long I’ve been shopping here.”

Walter, the older balding man who owns the mini mart around the corner of your apartment sighs and gives you a look of pity.

“I’m sorry (Y/N),” he shakes his head, “but you’ve seen how things have been lately.” He looks out the glass doors and onto the street where various shouting and honking could be heard, “Gotham’s economy is tanking, prices are going up, and I have to pay my bills too.”

You feel tears prick your eyes as you look at the mere twenty-five dollars you had for groceries, and then back up at your pile on the counter. You glance from the milk, to the bread, and various other necessities, trying to decide what to put back. You were reaching for cans of tuna and bars of soap when you heard the familiar tinkling of bells, signaling someone had walked into the store

You glance up, still fighting back tears and recognize the man that walked in as your neighbor Arthur. He smiled at you, unaware of your un-shed tears, and you gave him a watery smile back before turning back to Walter. You hand him the cans of tuna and the soap; you would just have to live off peanut butter sandwiches and use more deodorant until you got paid next.

“Just put these back and I’ll pay for what’s left.” You spoke finally, frustrated that you couldn’t even afford the basics anymore. This city sucked.

You paid for the even smaller pile of groceries and took the brown bag from Walters hands, “Have a nice evening (Y/N).”

I sighed and waved absently over my shoulder as I walked out the door, “Take care Walter.”

You faintly heard Arthur and Walter chatting before the door closed behind you and you started walking towards your apartment. That whole grocery thing scared you. Working as a waitress paid enough so you could pay your bills, but now with grocery prices going up...what was next?

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t notice the three men walking towards you, and by the time you did, it was too late to move. You bumped one of their shoulders and nearly dropped your bag but managed to stable yourself.

“I’m so sorry I – “you were cut off by a loud voice.

“Watch where you’re going dumbass!” the man yelled as he and his friends turned towards you.

You gripped your purse and bag tighter shrinking into yourself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” You apologized, biting back your scathing remark to avoid pissing them off.

But your attempt at passivity didn’t work as the man in question shoved your shoulder roughly causing you to stumble back, “Hey, I said I was sorry!” you snapped.

“Yeah well, if you knew who I was you’d realize that sorry doesn’t cut it.” he spat.

You started to back away from the three men but the tall one you bumped into snatched your groceries from your hand and threw them to the ground, causing the milk jug to burst and everything else to get soaked.

Anger built up in you, and you opened your mouth to retaliate but you felt another shove come from your backside and your beanie was ripped from your head. You heard loud mocking laughter as they continued to shout insults at you and shove you from one body to another.

You shoved back, pushing with all your might to escape this hellish cycle, “Get the fuck off me!”

You continued to fight back but before you knew it one of the men grabbed you around your shoulders and held you still as the other two leered at you.

“Or what?” they mocked.

You finally had enough of this bullshit and kicked your legs up off the ground shoving them into the tall guys stomach. He doubled over and you smirked, silently pleased at your action. Your silent celebration was short lived however, as the man holding you threw you to the ground. Before you even realized what was going on you heard a sickening crunch and a white-hot pain radiated from your nose.

You cried out as your hand flew to your nose in vain attempt to eliminate the pain, and soon you felt harsh kicks delivered to your body.

“Hey!” you heard a faint cry from the way you had come, “Hey, leave her alone! Walter call the police!”

The kicking stopped as you again heard mocking laughter retreat away from your curled up and beaten form. You heard a different set of footsteps come closer and a gentle hand laid on your shoulder.

“(Y/N), are you alright, it’s me Arthur.”

You slowly roll onto your back and sit up right, wincing at the shooting pain in your side. You look up to see your neighbor looking at you worriedly.

He helps you to your feet slowly and hold your arms to steady you, “What happened? who were those guys? Are you okay, do you need help?” you chuckle slightly at Arthur’s endless questions and shrug his hands off. You wipe you sleeve under your nose, trying to somewhat clean the blood from your face.

“I’m fine Arthur – well not fine per se but,” you lean down to pick up your discarded purse and groaned when you stood again, “I’ll live. They were just some rich assholes who had nothing better to do.”

You looked to your destroyed groceries and sighed, “I’m more upset about my groceries,” you motioned to the soggy pile, and looked to Arthur, “I don’t have any more money until I get paid next week.”

You felt panic gnaw at your stomach, what are you going to do until pay day? You have to eat.

Loud but strained laughter brought you back to earth and you looked to Arthur who’s pained expression didn’t match the laughter falling from his lips. You knew of Arthur’s condition, and even though you knew it wasn’t genuine laughter, you still felt the corner of your mouth tug upwards and a small giggle bubbled from your throat. Soon your giggles turned to full blown laughter and it didn’t subside until Arthur’s fit slowed too. You gripped your side lightly grimacing at the pain left from the laughing fit and tugged Arthur along towards your shared apartment building.

Arthur looked at you curiously as you continued to let out little chuckles as you approached your building. As you got in the elevator to go to your floor, he couldn’t hold back his question any longer.

“What was so funny?” he asked, “you just got beaten to a pulp, no offense, and your hard-earned money wasted. Does that not make you angry?”

You let out a humorless laugh and stepped off the elevator to your floor. You leaned against your door and looked to the lanky man in front of you.

“Honestly Arthur,” you turned your gaze to the ceiling closing your eyes in frustration, “I stopped being angry a long time ago. Now I’m just tired.” You looked at him, “I’m tired of living this way, living in a world, in this city where the rich and powerful shit on the rest of us, where life shits on us.” You shake your head and stand up straighter.

“Anyways, I should probably go,” you gesture to your door, “I better get cleaned up and patched up before I get too hungry, since it looks like i’ll be eating sleep for dinner.”

Your lame joke earns a chuckle from Arthur and he hesitates before speaking, “you can-“ he stumbles, “I mean, you could come over to my place?” it was more of a question than a statement, and he cringes at his own awkwardness, “I just mean that maybe I could help you and we have some left overs from dinner…” he trails off and stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets, looking at you hopefully.

You smile, a genuine smile that hadn’t appeared on your face in a long time, and you reach out to grab his hand; motioning for him to lead the way.

“I would love that Arthur, thank you.”

He smiles widely and leads you to his apartment. He unlocks the door and lets you inside first before closing the door behind you. You immediately notice that it’s similar to your own apartment: small, run down, and smells like mothballs. You also notice it smells like cigarettes and a nice perfume, a smell that that you don’t hate.

Arthur’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, “You can sit on the couch if you’d like, ill go grab some stuff for your nose” he states as he walks down the hallway to the bathroom.

You hear him rummaging around, in the cabinets as you take a seat on the couch and take notice of what’s on TV. It’s the Murray Franklin show, you lost interest quickly considering you didn’t like the host one bit. He’s a jerk, making fun of people and calling it comedy...what a sham.

Arthur emerges from the bathroom carrying what looks to be pain pills and a washcloth, he sets the pills down on the table and sits next to you. He looks from the rag to you as if asking permission and you just give a little nod and turn to face him. He gently begins wiping the already drying blood from your face and turns your head to the side slightly.

“It looks broken,” he muses, “The bleeding has stopped, and you’re all cleaned up, but you should go get that checked out tomorrow.” He looks at you in a concerned manner and trades the washcloth for two Tylenol.

“Thanks,” you take the pills and swallow them quickly, eager for some relief from the dull throbbing in your face.

You both lean back into the couch and watch the TV for a while longer. You slowly turn your head to look at Arthur only to see that he is already looking at you. You blush slightly before grasping his hand in yours.

“Thank you, Arthur. You didn’t have to help me out there especially since it could’ve ended up bad for you too.” You look back at the TV, “and thanks for this, and the offer of food. I know you’re in a rough spot like me and it’s just nice to have a friend for a change.”

You look back at Arthur and see him sporting a wide grin, “Of course. I would do it again in a heartbeat. I would do anything for you.” He admits.

You give him a small smile and squeeze his hand gently; your way of reciprocating his feelings and turn to look at the TV once more.

You both sat there until the early hours of the morning, laughing at various Tv shows and comedians. And for the first time in a long time, both of you were happy.

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #joaquin phoenix joker #joker #joker 2019 #joker x reader #joker request

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gothamstreetcat · 4 years

Text

things i’ve been tagged in as of late (a masterpost):

I. tagged by - @avacrwder

hardcover or paperback / rent or buy / reads in silence or reads with music / standalone or series / annotations or pristine pages / ebook or physical copy / dog ears or bookmarks / mismatched series or complete set/ going to the library or taking whatever editions they have there / cover matters or you don’t judge / lend books or keep them to yourself / enjoys lit classes or despises them / browses shops or orders online / reads reviews or goes in blind / unreturned books or clean library record / rereads or once was enough / fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon / deep reader or easily distracted / must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter / has neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves / skips ahead or resists temptation / reads aloud or in your head / guesses plot twists or never sees them coming

II. tagged by - @marthaskane

describe my blog tag meme

icon: camren bicondova wearing black lipstick with her hair tied up and in a turtleneck shirt aka the closest embodiment to me i’m going to get. i did try to recreate this photo for my blog but i suck at taking pictures of myself

content: i think when i started this blog it was a lot of spooky content and caryl content (walking dead). i am so sorry for the people who followed me for walking dead content and are still here, somehow. my blog has more or less morphed into a gotham blog and i am very happy about that. however, i will reblog any other content relating to the goth aesthetic, patrick melrose, good omens, and whatever holds my interest for more then five seconds

letter color: white

url: gothamstreetcat

header: an edit i did featuring batcat in an old catwoman comic no one can seem to stand

blog title: ‘bruce wayne die-hard’ I saw the word ‘die-hard’ once and decided i was going to use it

III. tagged by - @harlee-n & @lgbtrogues

Rules: tag 8 people you’d like to get to know better!

favorite colors: mostly black but i do like other colors in certain circumstances

last song I listened to: yesterday when i wrote this my playlist landed on taylor swift’s ‘peace’ and i’m sticking with it! but i’ve been listening to a lot of her last two albums these last couple days. particularly; london boy, cornelia street, illicit affairs, and i forgot that you existed

favorite musicians: i don’t think this answers the questions but i really like rock and roll and usually listen to the same bands and whatnot constantly. it’s shameful

last film I watched: fantasy island and it honestly wasn’t that good

last tv show I watched: degrassi

favorite character: do you want to see how many times i can type bruce wayne’s name onto this post? selina kyle is also top tier for me. lucious fox and alfred are both criminally underrated. death from sandman, crowley from good omens, joel miller from the last of us, lara croft from tomb raider. i love bridgit pike, harley quinn, poison ivy and jason todd because he needs more love then fans give him + probably a dozen or so other character’s i’m forgetting

sweet, spicy or savoury: savoury and sweet

sparkling water, tea or coffee: coffee first and foremost, sparkling water second (i like polar the best) and (iced) tea last

pets: i have a cat named isis (from batman tas) and a dog named coco

IV. tagged by - @avacrwder

rules: tag some people you want to get to know better

ships: mostly batcat

last song: betty by taylor swift

last movie: answered above

currently reading: not really anything right now

currently watching: right now i’ve been replaying the last of time in my free time

V. tagged by @avacrwder

top ten favs (i suck at top ten anything since there is very little that sticks with me and I ‘love’)

MOVIES:

it chaper one (2017)

birds of prey (2020)

joker (2019)

aquamarine (2006)

13 going on 30 (2004)

the rocky horror picture show (1975)

Holloweentown (1998)

it (1990)

spiderman into the spider-verse (2018)

spiderman (2002)

BOOKS: (i don’t even read books like that anymore but i’m also putting books i have on my audible)

good omens - neil gaiman & terry pratchett

between the devil and the deep blue sea - april genevieve tucholke

patrick melrose - edward st. aubyn

nos4a2 - joe hill

it - stephen king

miss peregrine’s home for peculiar children - ranson riggs

the perks of being a wallflower - stephen chbosky

ellen hopkins YA novels

perfect- natasha friend

milk and honey - rupi kaur

MUSIC:

daughter

elana tonra

dilly dally

ac/dc

halestorm

hayley williams

taylor swift (i’m putting taylor on this list because even though i don’t listen to her as hardcore as others, i genuinely do think she is very naturally talented)

ozzy osbourne

shunkan

the cure

TOP TEN (CURRENT) (TAYLOR SWIFT) SONGS: (since that’s all i’ve been listening to the last couple days)

peace

my tears ricochet

illicit affairs

seven

paper rings

london boy

i forgot that you existed

daylight

cornelia street

the man

TV SHOWS:

gotham

jenna marbles (youtube)

pennyworth

good omens

degrassi

the harley quinn show

birds of prey (2000)

touch

desperate housewives

batman the animated series

(+ BONUS) VIDEO GAMES:

the last of us

the last of us part II

life is strange

life is strange II

the tomb raider franchise

particularly angel of darkness

elder scrolls: skyrim

the sims 4

alice madness returns

the batman games

VI. tagged by - @avacrwder (i am so sorry but i just copied this from the post you tagged me in)

Elements | tag

AIR

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch small animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan* / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love the chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

* i’ve been making more of an effort to add vegan alternatives to my life. i want to go vegan completely but lately i’ve just been really down and wanna eat whatever i want. however, my favorite switch that i made was finding a vegan coffee creamer i like! it’s the silk almondmilk creamer and if bees had knees they would live wherever that creamer is made. it’s the best.

i am so sorry for everyone who tagged me in things and didn’t may it onto this post. thank you all so much because it does mean a lot to me. i am going to tag everyone i love but please know participation is always optional. you can either do one of these, all of them, or none. i also think one of these asked for my current time, it is 10:32 in the afternoon

tagging - @avacrwder (you know i had to tag you just one more time) @marthaskane @brvceselina @apple-grass-and-smiles @stevie-harrington @waynesmanvr @saltybatman @queergordon @keepswingin @sonyarebecchi @selinascatnip @jennasmarbles @twoheartsoneclara @drawing-cookie @harlee-n @yoko-goto @honestmrdual @clara-oswin-oswald @callmeredhood (+ anyone who wants to)

#guys. i am so sorry #i had this all worked out yesterday and then deleted the post #i'm so sad #tag games #about me #my brain nearly fried at the top tens

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captainlordauditor · 4 years

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300x3 7:02

300 words 3 times a week etc

I wrote this Tuesday and then just..completely forgot to post it. This is I guess the thing I’m gonna be poking at when I need a break from earth 988 but I’m staying in Batman? It’s basically the same concept of messing around with the timeline by moving up a character’s birth several years but with Jason, so I’ve labeled it earth 488. Timeline’s not super worked out so the ages are subject to change. 1729 words.

Warnings for brief mentions of drugs, CSA, etc, standard Batman warnings I guess

The kid’s in college when Bruce first meets him, or rather he should be; instead he’s hotwired the Batmobile and taken it for a ride, and Batman finds him several streets away from where he left it, grinning fit to burst, classic rock blaring out the open windows. He slams the brakes when he sees the local cryptid in front of him and stops just short of hitting Batman, but he doesn’t lose that grin the whole time.

“You gonna turn me in or what, Batsy?” His eyes are a rusty blue green like the water in the bay in the summer, and Batman sees a reckless storm in them. His eyes are like justice; his eyes are like liberty.

He should be angry, should be fuming, especially tonight, but he’s not. He laughed himself stupid when he found the car missing and it’s a struggle to keep himself from laughing again when confronted with the thief. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He tilts his head, easy, like he’s having the most casual conversation in the world. “Wanted to see if she drives as pretty as she looks.”

Batman sighs, watching him. “You must be very good, to get past the security measures.”

He shrugs. He’s too thin, too small, his jacket hanging off of him like Batman’s cape. “I do alright.”

The Bat glides over to the drivers side door. “Show me.”

He tries to drop the kid off at the only group home in the neighborhood, but the kid laughs his head off when he sees the building. “That’s my grandma's place,” he says. “Taught me all I know. She’s running a museum heist tonight, you know that?”

Batman’s heart stops. He turns his head, watches the thief in the seat next to him, his head rolled back against the seat. His red-black hair is mussed from the wind, his eyes are sparkling with laughter. He looks godly; he looks obscene. Batman wants to see him like this again.

“Goes to show, right?” says the thief. “Everything good in Gotham rots.”

Batman releases the parking brake. “That’s not true.”

“Sure it is. What’s rotting you, Batsy?”

“Which museum?”

He sees the thief again the next week, walking the Bowery without a shirt under his jacket. He saunters over to the Batmobile and drapes himself against the door, displaying his skinny bare chest for Batman to admire. Batman thinks of what it would be like to wrap him in the warmest blanket in the manor. “You finally here to rot with the rest of us, Batsy?”

“I thought you were a thief,” Batman says.

“I’m whatever you want,” he replies, and Batman doesn’t know why he was so much more attractive stealing a car than when he’s openly flirting. “I can even be your Robin for the night, if that’s what you’re after.” He tilts his head, smile fading. “Is that what’s rotting you, Batsy?”

Batman’s jaw twitches as he clenches it. He’s heard the insinuations before, and he’s never liked them. “I’m looking for Two Face.”

The man’s face turns from contemplating the edge of anger to a hard determination. Batman decides he likes it. “Yeah, I know where he is.”

Batman doesn’t know what it is that makes him unlock the door and say, “get in,” but he does.

“I’ll miss work if I do that,” he says. He leans in closer. “Or I could give you a discount. Call it two hundred for the whole night.”

In this area, Batman’s sure that’s not his usual pricing. “I’ll pay you after we catch Two Face.” Last week he ran off before Batman could talk to him; he doesn’t want to lose another chance for conversation.

He opens the door and settles in the car, sprawls on the seat, opens the window, lights a cigarette. Virginia slim. “Heard his guys talking plans two days ago. Were in the next room over from mine for the night. Said they’re hitting the Lucky Dollar Casino.”

“That’s in Bristol.” Bristol has looser gambling laws. It’s an effort to control vice, send it out of the city. Batman can’t say it works.

He shrugs, watching Batman through heavy lidded eyes. Batman thinks of what it’d be like to take that cigarette from his mouth and kiss him gently. Instead he says, “If Robin smells that on the seats, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He laughs, a quiet genuine snicker of amusement, nothing like the shrieks of thrill and irony he gave last week. Batman wants to hear that sound again. “Where is he, anyway?”

“It’s a school night.”

He gets his wish. “You’re a wonder, Batsy. Didn’t know you cared so much about that punk.”

“He’s not a punk.” Alfred used to say he spent too much time in the past; maybe so, because this is still his reflex when people use that word, even if he knows it’s not what they mean.

“He’s out here running around with you, isn’t he? Beating up robbers in a pair of booty shorts.” He takes a drag on his cigarette and Batman looks at him and wonders that he knows what he just said.

“It’s a leotard. Acrobat’s gear.” He ignores the thief’s snort.

Two Face gets away, but Batman gets the hostage he took, so he considers it a half successful night. He comes back to the car where the other man is waiting, his feet up on the dash. He finished his first cigarette around the time they got here, but he’s already halfway through another one.

He taps his knuckles against the window, bounces his leg. “I know you said you’d pay me after you caught him, but I’m not waiting until tomorrow.”

“I’ll pay you tonight.” Batman starts the car.

His name is Jason; he’s nineteen years old. Batman’s glad of that, because from his height and build, he thought Jason was younger. He feels less guilty about looking at him now.

He eats steadily, watching Batman like he knows the food won’t disappear but thinks Batman might. He doesn’t, not yet; he’s finding he likes Jason when he’s not acting a part, or at least when he’s toned it down. He has a good brain and a quick wit, even if his humor is a little raw.

“Can you only steal cars?”

He shakes his head, licks ketchup off his thumb. It’s not sensual at all, just a habit gained from starvation, eating every scrap of food, and that makes it all the better. His eyes meet Batman’s over his hand. “M’not so good with safes, but I can do windows and pockets fine. ‘M a pretty good shot. Can do explosives okay, if you give me a gun I can probably fix it. I know how to dilute coke and what to do if someone ODs on Harry.” He takes a long drag of soda through his straw, not looking at Batman. It’s the first time he’s avoided eye contact.

After a moment, he looks back up. “I can conjugate German and translate Latin. Read the Odyssey a couple times. It’s better in Greek.”

His brain, unbidden, supplies him with the image of Jason laid out before him like a god, Bruce and poetry against his mouth. He would do for this Jason what Medea could not do for hers, he hopes, and win his loyalty.

He banishes the thought. No, this is not Jason; this is Ganymede, and Batman will not be as Zeus. “Why work the streets then?” He asks instead.

He pauses, looking at his food and then back at Batman. He’s leaning forward over the table and there’s barely a foot between them. “I like it,” he says. It has the straightforwardness of honesty. “If I do drugs or enforcement I’d have to work for someone else. There aren’t any gangs here I like enough to sign away my soul. Not yet.” He slides his leg forward to brush up against Batman’s under the table, so lightly Batman’s not sure he’d notice it if it weren’t for his training. There’s no shock, no static, but it feels electric nonetheless.

“There are options,” he tells Jason. He doesn’t dare move his leg.

“I haven’t been to a proper school since I was ten,” Jason retorts. “What options do you mean? Drown in debt to get through college so I can get a job above the table? A corporation’s just the same as a gang, except you can’t snitch and send them to jail when they treat you like shit. Besides,” he leans back, doubling the distance between them, stretching it into an infinity, slips his leg away from Batman’s. “You arrested Maroni. You took apart the Blackgaters.”

Batman looks away. Those eyes are piercing him, bearing down on him like the god of justice come down to judge him. It’s a rude reminder, that he doesn’t always do good; a stab in the gut that his choice removed that of somebody else, somebody with greater stakes in the game.

But Jason is right; Batman did arrest Maroni, and he did take apart the Blackgaters, for the most part. It’ll be a month or so before the void is filled where the fence was before, when the rest of Gotham is sure he’ll lose the trial. The Blackgaters will follow, only once they have a place closer than Penguin to sell the parts off the cars they steal.

And in the meantime, Jason will walk the streets. In December.

Batman never thought he’d feel guilty about arresting someone for a crime he knew they’d committed, but here he is. How many other car thieves are in the same boat? He almost wonders if he should let Two Face go, but then he remembers the shots fired and the hostage held tonight, and scolds himself for thinking such a thing.

Maybe Jason’s right, everything good in Gotham rots. Sometimes there are no good choices, no good answers.

He gives Jason his two hundred, in eight twenties, so it’s easy to break, tucks the lone fifty in his wallet over it and calls it a tip. Bruce Wayne may carry hundreds to give to the homeless like candy, but Batman doesn’t. He leaves it on the table beside the wrapper for a burger and when Jason goes to throw out his trash, he vanishes.

#brujay #fic writing #300x3 #arsonist's lullaby #make the night ours #batcest

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dyketectivecomics · 4 years

Text

Chance Encounters of the Demonic Kind - Chapter 6: Sixth Sense

(New Year, Same Old Habits. Read on AO3 or below!)

For those of you who are new, this fic is the first, chronologically speaking, of my Magic Fam AU series, based off of DC Bombshells. A Simple Premise Really: Constantine and Zatanna adopt Raven and hijinks predictably ensue. (well, moreso lots of trouble rather than hijinks. but its certainly been a lot of fun to explore anyways)

...

The magician turned over another book, dropping it onto the coffee table in frustration before she began rubbing at her eyes. She must have read the same paragraph a dozen times in the past hour, none of it familiar, or relevant. But she needed the break from all of these useless files that surrounded Constantine’s workspace, even if it was with something that only seemed to exacerbate her growing headache.

Hearing a soft noise next to her, she stopped in her musing and turned.

Raven was tiptoeing carefully around the papers, grimacing down as her socked feet rustled against them. She’d chosen overalls and a bright pink shirt to match those soft pink socks; holding her arms aloft to keep her balance, and concentrating as she took each step. She nearly made it to the doorway into Constantine’s main office, before the magician’s voice froze her in her tracks.

“POTS,” she said, shaking her head, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

The young mage slowly shifted back from stepping on the balls of her feet. Tucking her hands into her pockets, she gave the magician a dismissive shrug.

And Zatanna found herself biting back a smile. She’d been with them little more than a week at this point, but that movement was definitely something she picked up from John.

“I want to help,” she said carefully, eyes roaming from paper to paper around the room, avoiding Zatanna’s.

She could only snort in response.

“And just how, pray tell, do you plan to help?”

The girl stood there silently, biting her lip to keep from talking, her shoulders tensing marginally at the question.

Zatanna could feel her stomach knot uncomfortably then. Her heart rate picking up, her palms sweating. But this feeling, once again, wasn’t her own.

She took a breath, a reminder to ground herself before she leaned forward from her seat.

“Raven. Why are we so anxious?”

Her eyes immediately shot to reach Zatanna’s, wide and fearful and searching.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

The sorceress found herself running her hands over her eyes again, taking another deep breath in her nose and blowing it out of her mouth.

“I’m not upset, blackbird. I just want to know what’s bothering you.”

She turned away.

“Nothing is-”

“Nope. Gonna stop you right there, kiddo,” Zee smiled wryly, waving a hand, “This stomachache you’re giving me, tells me otherwise.”

Somehow, when the girl shifted her arms to cross them over her stomach, she seemed even smaller then.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

Zatanna only sighed before patting the space on the couch next to her, and picking the book back up from the table.

“Crazy as his system seems, there’s a reason for it,” she smiled fondly as she felt that sinking feeling slowly fade away. Raven only hesitated at her spot for a second, before she scrambled over to the sorceress, growing more at ease as she climbed onto the couch with her.

“I can’t let you help us clean up just yet,” she continued, “But you’re welcome to read with me. Is that alright?”

The girl took the book that was offered, gingerly from her hands before nodding.

“Reading is… fine.”

“This one doesn’t have as many pictures as the others,” Zatanna warned.

“I’ll manage,” she said, giving a small smile back.

The magician was grateful, as the afternoon passed in companionable silence.

She shuffled through several papers, quickly dismissing so much of the records and research. File after file of hocus pocus and hollywood witchery. All spinning the tale of a group playing at forces they couldn’t begin to understand, like children with matches.

The key was figuring out how they found a real, genuine spark.

Just before Zatanna was ready to call it and ask Constantine what his plans for dinner were for the evening, she and Raven both jumped as they heard his ecstatic shouts from the room over.

“I’ve got it! Zee!” he yelled, one hand wrapping around the doorframe to pull him out of the room, the other holding a bunch of papers in victory. “I’ve found it. I-” His smile dropped slightly as he saw the girl sitting beside her.

“Raven, what’re you doin’ down here, bird?”

She looked from the occultist to the magician and back again, a long quiet descending over them. She picked up the book in her lap.

“I’m helping.”

“Well,” John chuckled, “Carry right on, then.”

~*~*~*~*~

The apartment still smelled like sulfur.

It no longer reeked of the stench, no. But it lingered. Mixing in a terrible way with the nicotine that already permeated throughout the rooms. Candles had long since been snuffed and salt cleared, but that terrible burning sulfur still remained.

A week since the girl had been summoned, days since he’d stepped back into the place. He’d let himself get a little too hopeful that it would clear in their absence.

“You couldn’t be bothered to open a window,” Zatanna berated, following close behind him.

He ignored the barb, deflecting. “You sure Raven will be okay with-”

“She’s already in bed and fast asleep, John. Besides-” She reopened his apartment’s front door to reveal her own Gotham suite again, “-we’re right next door if she need us.” Useful tricks up her sleeves, as always.

“Still don’t see why we need the two of us-”

“Two sets of eyes are better than one when searching, especially in the mess we left here. And I know better than anyone how you get when you’re searching for something that’s right in front of you, John. So let’s get this over with,” Zatanna wrinkled her nose, “And maybe crack open a few windows before we leave. God, it reeks in here.”

“God’s got nothing to do with it,” the occultist mumbled, heading right for the library.

The first thing that caught his eye, were the minor smears of chalk dust in the wood floor, and salt that lingered in the grooves. Those things could be found in most flats that Constantine had lived in over the years, of course. This one was no exception to the war scars he left in his wake. But since, like so many before, this summoning circle was mostly cleared away, that meant searching instead for all the research he had conducted before that fateful ritual he’d performed a week prior.

Something he should have kept better track of, before he and Zatanna had started tearing up his flat in their panic from before.

“Hindsight,” he sighed to himself, picking up a stack of books that he knew had already proved fruitless, and finally reshelving them. Not to the places they actually belonged, but he’d worry about cleaning that mess later. Right now, he had a mission.

The magician eventually joined him in the room, a stack of books in her arms and another few levitating behind her like ducklings in a row.

“I still think these top two might be helpful,” she said with a nod of her head towards the stack in her arms, “But the rest should probably go back.”

“Till next time,” John reminded, a smile growing on his face.

“Till next time,” she agreed. “Anywhere you want them?”

He only shook his head, “If there’s an empty space, fill it. Let’s find those notes.”

As they spent those next few, precious minutes shuffling and searching and shelving, Constantine felt a peace descending over them. It was a familiar pace they set themselves in, working together and not needing to fill the empty air with so many words. Enjoying a silence and occasional question exchanged.

He was not so naive, however, to believe that it would last.

“Be honest with me, John,” she asked, and the tone in her voice had his hair already standing on end. This was heading nowhere good. “Just what the hell were you thinking?”

“Would it help my case if I said I wasn’t?”

She gave a scoff, but said nothing, continuing to shelve the last of the books as she waited for an answer.

“It’s like I told you before,” he sighed, “It’s always been about Astra, but… Soon as I saw her, Zee, I knew I couldn’t just… send her back. She’s… she’s just not- ”

He stopped himself as they heard something crash, locking eyes immediately.

“That sounded like your place,” he said, eyebrow quirking as they heard another dull thud .

“Keep searching for your notes,” she nodded, “This conversation isn’t over.”

He waited until she left, sighing, “It never is, luv.”

~*~*~*~*~

She knew there’d be trouble, the moment she could first hear the girl stifling her cries behind the door.

“Raven?” she called, hand gripping the doorknob, something in her hesitant to turn it yet. “I’m coming in… Is everything-”

She stopped herself as she took in the room, or rather, how dark the room had become.

Not even the light from the streetlamps or neon signs along the street were able to cut through the inky black that now enveloped the space. Something had knocked the nightlight out of place, and far enough from the wall for Zatanna to see it in the small sliver of light carving a path into the room now. She could scarcely make out the outline of the bed or nightstand, as the shadows in the room hummed and shook every object with a violent energy.

She hesitated only a second longer, before rushing into the room as she heard a distinct sob escaping from the girl, curled and shaking in the bed.

“Raven! It’s okay! I’m here!”

“I’m- I- I’m-”

The magician only shushed her, kneeling down beside the bed. She only shook a little in the knees, though she tried her best to keep her panic at bay. Despite everything that set her on edge, some part of her knew that it wasn’t something to truly be feared.

This girl may also be a demon, but she had yet to show any such demonic inclinations.

“Take a breath. It’s okay. I’m here,” she whispered, keeping her voice even and slowly running a hand over her cheeks to wipe away tears. The other she ran through the girl’s hair, giving her a soothing brush.

“What happened? Was it a nightmare? It can’t hurt you now, blackbird. It’s over-”

She was surprised, when the girl leaned forward to embrace her, and something flashed right there in her mindseye.

A blip of a vision. Barely anything of real note, or anything that she could act on. Gone as soon as it had come.

Something she’d worry about later. Raven’s grip around her throat was starting to become a bit more of a pressing issue.

Gently pulling at her arms, Zatanna pushed herself up onto the bed once she was free, and gathered the girl up into a more comfortable position beside her. She continued sobbing right into the magician’s shoulder, cries slowly quieting. The shadows pulling back from the walls and drawing themselves back into their usual places. Most seemed to be gathering back underneath the bed, and Zatanna felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought.

‘Dealing with a girl, not a demon. You’re just trying to help a girl. ’

But even as she held the girl close, running a hand along the girl’s back and humming half-finished lullabies, she couldn’t shake the presence she could feel around them. A foreboding that sunk its teeth into the very air and lingered right at the periphery.

Just like the sulfur scent, that evidently had carried over, unbidden, from John’s apartment into her own.

#john constantine #zatanna zatara #magicblazer #rachel roth #dc bombshells #au: magic foster family #randywritesfic #wow its certainly been awhile for some of those tags huh #this is more... like a connecting piece than a full chapter it feels to me #but it felt right to pace it like this... start settling things in a bit more idk #this is why feedback is important yall #make sure you share if you like! likes do nothing except tell me that you read it!#sharing /shows/ me that you /actually/ like it. like... thats just how it really works fjkdslfjla

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