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alyssadeliv · 3 years

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The Forgotten One

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Chapter 12

They were going to the zoo. Richard had decided that after two months of her living in the Manor it was time to have some family bonding time. It didn’t matter that most of her time in the last months was used to get to know her new extended family or get reacquainted with her old one.

He was adamant that she needed the full Gothamite experience, so here they were on a Friday afternoon on a crowded metro, listening as the oldest one tried and explained how Metro’s worked to her. He was so happy, gesticulating and smiling, that she didn’t have the heart to tell him that she indeed knew how the metro worked, having lived in Paris for almost two full years.

After Damian, Richard was her favorite sibling, mostly because she had always seen him as a role model, as part of her training had been inspired by him and his trapeze maneuvers, but she did enjoy the warmth that she tended to feel when he was around. He was patient and had no problem explaining pop culture references to her. Not that she didn't enjoy spending time with her other siblings, it was just that Richard went out of his way to make her feel accepted.

Tim was a very busy person, and their interactions were reserved to 3 a.m. coffee hunts. He wasn’t bad, just closed off, and a little wary of her after his first experience with Damian. Not that she could blame him. But she was a bit closer to his girlfriend, Stephanie Brown, who would come to have dinner at the Manor every week.

And there was Jason. She refused to address him as her brother, that would just be plain weird. After the initial shock of finding each other again had worn out, it had taken a few weeks for them to finally address the elephant in the room. She could tell that he had struggled with the news that she was Bruce’s biological daughter.

“Dick, maybe speed the lecture a bit so we can still get to the zoo before it closes.” Jason was leaning casually against a wall, finding this whole situation funny. He was wearing jeans and his red leather jacket, nothing special, but if she was honest he looked rather handsome.

“It’s fine Jaybird, I was just wrapping it up!” He says with a smile, just in time for them to catch the next wagon. Because they spent at least 25 minutes listening to Richard’s lesson, the metro had emptied a bit so they were able to find seats. It was just the three of them, the others would meet them there, after being picked up by Alfred, Damian after school, and Timothy after a meeting.

“So… I know Bruce said not to ask, but I’ve been dying to know…” Richard starts unsure, afraid to cross a line. They were lucky to score seats in the same section, she was seated with Jason by her side, with Richard in front of him facing them both. “But how exactly did you two meet, I mean it was obviously at… Tibet-'' He caught himself before he could out them as members of the League, you never knew who could be listening in their conversation, so better safe than sorry. “- but why do you know Jason, but Damian didn’t?”

With a glance to the side, she was more than happy to allow Jason to explain that part. In the two months she lived at the Manor she saw how much they wanted to ask about their relationship, but kept their distance. Aside from Damian, they didn’t feel the need to inform the family about their past.

“Well, Pixie Pop here was the one to train me for the duration of my time in the Temple. Kicked my ass more times than I can count.” He says with a smirk, while casually butting an arm on the back of her seat. “She taught me most of what I know”

“Most of it?” She was indignant, but the smile on her face betrayed her true emotions.

“To be fair B didn’t totally suck as a parent.” She knew that he and Father didn’t have the best relationship after he came back from his time at the League, but according to Damian, it used to be way worse, not that she would know. Richard seems content with their explanation and didn't demand more information, even if he desperately wanted to. He respects their boundaries, and that only makes her like him more.

When they got to the zoo, Damian and Timothy were already there, but surprisingly Stephanie had tagged along, so now she wasn’t the only female in the group anymore, not that she cared, but she liked her brother’s girlfriend so the surprise was appreciated.

She had never been to the zoo before, just to see the attractions. The times she went to fight an Akuma did not count. It was a bit sad seeing all these animals stuck in a cage, and she could tell her brother felt the same. Damian always had a soft spot for animals, and would not tolerate if they were being mistreated. Not surprisingly, the Waynes made annual donations to the zoo to ensure that all the animals were well taken care of. When she first heard about that she was glad that Father cared about Damian’s interests enough to pay to support every zoo and animal shelter in the city. It helped ease her guilt for abandoning him for two years knowing that now she was not the only one who cared for him.

They spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying the animals. And Dick was glad he chose to go to the zoo as a family bonding experience. When Damian first came into the family he had taken him there, after discovering that his younger brother absolutely adored animals and he was happy to see that Marianne liked it as well.

Efficient as always, Alfred was already there waiting for them the minute they crossed the exit of the building. As she came to know, the men seemed to have a six sense when it came to all of them. Just by his aura, she could tell he wasn’t someone you wanted to cross, but she could see how much he loved each one of his grandchildren (because she could never kid herself to think of him any less than a Grandfather).

“I assume that today's activities were enjoyable.” The butler asks as he opens the back door of the limo for them. Richard enters first thanking the men.

“It was acceptable” Damian voices, as he too enters the vehicle.

It was a bit of a ride, seeing that the Manor was almost outside of Gotham, but she didn’t mind. Seated between Richard and Damian she spent most of the journey chatting with everyone. But by the time they arrived at the house everyone was a bit tired, so dinner was a relatively small affair. But not uneventful, because as revenge for Bruce bailing on family day, the boys started sharing with her all the shenanigans of her father’s public persona, Brucie Wayne. It was amusing to see this new side to her father, always so reserved and serious.

“If you are all finished sharing Master Bruce's embarrassing moments, I believe it is time for patrol.” Alfred as always came to defuse the situation before it could implode.

Because she spent most of the last two years fighting almost every single day, she decided that she needed some rest from her hero lifestyle. Even after her father asked if she would like to accompany them on patrols, she decided to turn it down for now. So while her family directed themselves to the cave, she made her way into her suite.

It was a beautiful room. Although the color scheme wasn’t something she would have picked herself, it fit with the furniture rather nicely, and her artist side appreciated that. The room itself was simple, but the red colors and the dark wood made the room seem cozier than it was. With a double bed with a canopy, two bedside tables, a vanity with a mirror, and a wardrobe, it had everything she needed. Her Father had encouraged her to decorate her room the way she wanted, and she had been tempted to do so, but ultimately decided to wait until she settled into her role as a family member before she went and added more change to the mix. What she had been very close to doing was adding a desk so she could draw and design, but after she discovered that there was a big one in the library just a few doors from her room, she dismissed the idea.

Quickly she showered and changed into something more comfortable than her street attire, before exiting the room and making her way into the library. It wasn’t as big as the one downstairs, but it had a big balcony that overlooked the gardens, so she liked to just sit in a shadow and sketch away. Damian had been kind enough to spare one of his unused sketchbooks and some pencils, knowing that she liked to draw just as much as he did. She leaned forward into the railing resting her arms and head, but still looking upwards.

The sun had already set, and she was glad that they were far enough away from the city that she could see some stars in the sky. Having lived in Paris, she had really missed all the stars she could see at night from her home on the League. One of her studies had been about the Astros, so she spent a lot of time as a kid contemplating the skies.

“It’s going to rain soon” A voice comes from behind her. Without having to turn around she knew who it was. A smile appears on her face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for patrol?” She asks, straightening her body, but still not turning around. She could feel the person getting closer to her until she felt a presence at her side.

“That’s the whole point. It's gonna rain.” He carries a hint of humor in his tone “And besides I prefer to keep you company, Pretty Girl. Besides, I believe Red Hood deserves one night off. The guy has been working hard.” He jokes.

With a smile she finally faces him. He had showered and changed, and without his red jacket, he looked so relaxed. It reminded her of their time in the League. Like that he looked so much like the angry boy she helped train. So young and while broken, so full of life and fight in him. He smirks at her but turns his face upwards to look at the night.

“You always did love the stars.” He commented, not looking at her. “It’s sad that here you can't see them as much.”

“It’s not that bad. In Paris, you couldn't see any. It was sad, but to be fair the whole city more than compensated for that. It’s beautiful there.” She recalled all the times she went on a midnight stroll around the city, just enjoying the architecture. “I could spend eternity drawing all the details in the buildings.”

“Do you miss it?” He asks, looking at her. His tone is neutral, but by his body language, she can tell he’s anxious for her answer. She had always been good at reading him, and she was glad that their time apart had not changed that.

“In a way…”

She sighs.

“I liked the city, but I spent most of my time there fighting and training. Not much different from before. It was like everything changed but was still the same. To be completely honest… I miss our time at the League the most.” She confesses but hurriedly continues. “Don’t get me wrong, it was hard! But still… at the same time…”

“I get it.” He interrupts her. He has a small side smile, and the dimples on his face make her want to freeze this moment and draw him so she could eternalize him. Instead, she gets closer to him, seeking comfort in his presence at her side. He embraces her. Securing her in his arms, her body pressed against his, her head buried in his chest.

It was funny to think that the most capable woman to take care of herself he knew, chose to be vulnerable around him. It made him feel loved.

“I miss it too.” He whispered in her ear. She raises her head, just enough that she can see his face without removing herself from his arms. Staying like this reminds her of all the nights he used to sneak into her chambers. And they would talk and hold each other for hours. It felt like it was just yesterday the first time he got the better of her.

“Focus!” She yelled while landing a kick at his unprotected left side. “You are unbalanced- in three moves I could have you on the ground again” She punched him to his right, but he was able to block her and tried to deliver a punch of his own. His knuckles were bloodied, and he knew that in the morning his ribs would hurt. But at this moment he was high on adrenaline. She dodged.

They were training for what felt like hours. But both were too stubborn to ask for the fight to end.

But just as promised, in three more moves he was on the ground. He tried to get back on his feet to continue with the fight but was stopped by a foot on his torso.

“That’s enough.” She helps him to get on his feet. “You were great! You could have overpowered me so many times! I left you so many openings!” She laughs. This was routine for them. After a fight, Marianne was usually so pumped with adrenaline that she spoke at a mile per hour. “We really need to work on your tactics this week. Oh! You also need to improve your stance, you’ve been favoring your right side too much. I know your ribs hurt but you still need to protect your body as a whole.” She comments only stopping to take a large sip of water. “Well, I am spent.”

“You’re spent? I’m the one that has been eating dirt for the whole hour!” He complains indignantly. She tossed a water bottle in his direction, which he grabs and happily finishes in a single gulp.

“Just another reason you need to study more!” She grins. And turns to exit the room, and while walking to the door turns to him again.

“See you in a bit” She winks.

When they meet again they are in her room. She’s seated on the bed sketching some view, while Jason sits on the floor sharpening his knife. They chat casually for some time, but ultimately end speaking about their training session earlier.

“That move would have totally worked!” He exclaims, knife long forgotten he now kneels facing her bed.

“There’s where you are wrong, you need strength on your fist on both sides to push my torso, otherwise I would easily be able to doge only one. You need two punches at different sides in succession for you to distract your opponent!” She explains in a hurry. Her thoughts jumped around her head.

“No way! If it’s strong enough, only one is needed!” He argues.

Worked up she threw her notebook to the side, forgotten. In a second she was up, signaling for him to do the same.

“There is no way. Stand there, pretend to be in stance.” She directs, and without a second thought, he complies. “Okay, so I come for your right side first, you are stronger there.”

Her movements are slowed, as she demonstrates the move. “That’s going to distract you, and keep you focused on your stronger side, leaving your weaker one unprotected.” She shows him where he left an opening for her. “So all I need to do now is strike again, focusing more strength now. Either a punch or a kick would do the trick.” As she goes to demonstrate her point, he grabs the incoming slow punch and pulls her into his body.

Unprepared she loses her balance, falling into his chest. In a second he secures her with his other arm, keeping her in his embrace. She feels her face burning with embarrassment. He caught her by surprise, and she felt ashamed.

“Hey that wasn't fai-” But he silences her, bringing his face closer to hers and giving her a heated kiss. It lasts for some time, but when they finally separate themselves he has a grin on his face.

“Just to be clear, I knew the move wouldn’t have worked. You just look cute when you're angry.”

And before she can protest he shuts her up with another kiss.

So this is by far the biggest chapter! Hope ya’ll like it! We finally get the story behind Jason and Marianne. Let me know what you think!

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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You're totally right. I literally cannot read "Jason finds out about Tarantula" fics anymore. I find the way they generally filter what's considered in fandom maybe Dick's biggest trauma, through the lens of " isn't Jay just so awesome for caring (even though Dick's always been such a dick to him)", rather that Dick's needs, pretty gross. And why does Jay's revenge on Tarantula usually matter more than Dick's feelings on the matter (like, Dick could have revenge himself if he wanted, you know?)?

This is DEFINITELY a thing and it bugs a ton.

Like, I get the projection element of using Jason killing Dick’s rapist to act out or process the revenge fantasy of wishing someone would do that for you with your rapist, for writers or readers for whom this is part of the catharsis, and so this isn’t like, a moral judgment of him for doing so, the problem is it never in ANY story has ANYTHING TO DO WITH DICK OR WHAT HE WANTS.

Never have I ever seen a single story about Tarantula or Mirage where Jason kills them after ASKING Dick if that’s what he wants, if that will help him, bring him closure or comfort or relief.

Its just Jason going off and doing his thing, and that’s 100% entirely about Jason, and that’s....annoying, in a fic and an issue that’s supposed to be about hurt/comfort for Dick for something that happened to him.

Like, if Jason was actually acting on Dick’s behalf and fulfilling his wishes, that’d be totally different, but there’s not a single thought ever spared about the fact that if Dick blamed himself for Tarantula killing Blockbuster and thought HE failed HER by not putting her on a better path, then how in the hell do you think he’s ACTUALLY going to feel about Jason then killing Tarantula, supposedly on his behalf?

I’ve talked extensively about how I think Dick has a lot more nuanced and complicated perspective on killing than most people assume of him, and I’m not refuting that here.....but even Dick being willing or tempted to kill someone who’s hurt him or taken someone from him like he was with Zucco and later with Two-Face and then with Joker.....like, this is not remotely interchangeable with how Dick might feel about killing being done in his name, and I don’t for a second believe that’s what he’d ever want from any of his siblings, and thus this would IMO only make things WORSE for his mental and emotional state, rather than bring him any sort of catharsis at all.

Like, its not even about the morality of killing itself even....there’s so many other factors such as Jason’s complicated history with Bruce on this very issue, and like, the last thing in the world Dick would want is to be the reason for even further conflict between Bruce and Jason because Jason killed someone on Dick’s behalf.....ESPECIALLY when its not even on Dick’s behalf because at no point, as I said, is Jason shown thinking through the thought process of ‘is this actually what Dick would want and would it make him feel better, or is this wholly about making myself feel better and venting my anger and aggression about my brother being hurt on the one who hurt him, regardless of how he’s going to feel about it if and when he finds out.’

Like, say what you will about Dick killing the Joker in Last Laugh, but there was never any illusions about him going that far and beating the Joker to death because he thought it would bring either Jason or Tim (who he thought at that point the Joker had killed too) back, nor did he ever during or in the aftermath express any kind of idea that he was doing it because its what they would want. Ironically of course, this ended up being exactly what Jason DID want, just not from Dick specifically, but the point is, this never came up as part of Dick’s thought process either during or after. It was always 100% clear that this event, that moment, was about Dick and his hurt and rage over the Joker taking away his loved ones, just like with Zucco it’d been about his hurt and rage over him taking his parents away and not at all because he was of the belief that his parents would actually want him to kill Zucco.

Even with Two-Face in R:YO, Dick being tempted to kill Two-Face was less about him having been hurt by Two-Face when he almost beat Dick to death....it really was about him holding Two-Face and that whole situation to blame for Bruce firing him and in Dick’s mind no longer needing or wanting him....he wanted to kill Two-Face not because of what had been DONE to him, but what he blamed Two-Face for having lost, what he felt he’d taken from him....even while knowing full well that this would in no way make things better or right with Bruce, and its the last thing Bruce would want Dick to do.

There is a difference between avenging and revenge, and one of the interesting things about Dick’s stance and history on killing has always been that it always ONLY comes up in the latter. Like, there’s never any point in Dick’s history where he views killing as a valid way to avenge a loved one......the times when he struggles with the desire to, its 100% about his wanting revenge on a personal level.

And that’s the honesty and directness I’m missing from so many Tarantula or Mirage fics these days. Its the disconnect, how Jason is framed and even celebrated as though he’s AVENGING his brother and acting on his behalf, justice for Dick being hurt by these people.....

But the reality is, there’s little to no thought or attention paid by Jason or the narrative as to what Dick’s ACTUAL wishes in this matter are, and what he actually wants and needs in order to be helped along in his recovery.

Its really just about Jason getting revenge for someone hurting someone he cares about and thus feeling hurt and pain by proxy......just twisted and made to look like something it’s not, by saying its FOR Dick even though its likely Dick would actually be worse off for knowing what Jason was doing/had done, as Dick’s guilt complex makes it all but inevitable that he’d now additionally blame himself for being the reason Jason felt he had to do that.....when ironically and obnoxiously, the reality is Jason did it in those stories because its what Jason wanted and what Jason felt HE needed to cope with his feelings and emotions about what had been done to his brother. It really ultimately has nothing to do with Dick, he’s just the excuse, but he also just so happens to 100% be someone who would shoulder the burden of guilt and blame and remorse for even just being the excuse for someone going to those extremes.

If a story is about Dick’s trauma and Dick’s recovery, leaving out Dick’s actual expressed wishes or Dick’s feelings about what other people do or want to do as a result of this is a huge, gaping, annoying as hell oversight.

And for the record, I’m trying to keep this general and not speak to specific fics because I’m aware that for many survivors, the act of projecting onto Dick and what he suffered there can and does mean that for some people, Jason’s actions there are viewed as almost actually being on behalf of the readers/writers who project themselves into Dick’s position in that narrative. I get that, and that’s why this issue is always going to be messy.

As with most things, my true gripe is the overwhelming SAMENESS of the takes on Tarantula/Mirage stories, and the fact that no room is hardly ever left for those who ironically are NOT projecting onto Dick so fully that they feel avenged by whatever Jason does here.....but rather who are simply relating to Dick and thus are actually just looking for the catharsis of him being able to seize back control over his own life and what happens to him and because of him, by the narrative prioritizing the other characters focusing on what HE wants and needs for HIS recovery rather than going off to enact revenge of their own.

Sorry not sorry, but I am always gonna be hardcore gung-ho about the fact that I think that stories that are ABOUT a specific character’s rape should always center and prioritize THEM and what THEY want and/or do, rather than just use them and what happened to them as a catalyst to then showcase someone else acting out a revenge fantasy in their name.

The desire to avenge a loved one, the desire for personal revenge against someone who hurt a loved one, and the desire to act as little as possible on your own personal feelings about what happened and instead be there to help enact whatever that hurt loved one says they want or need to help get better....

Each and every one of these desires has validity....the problem is, depending on the characters involved, they absolutely ARE at times mutually exclusive and not compatible, and thus not keeping a firm awareness on the distinction between these and which are the primary motivations for which characters, like.....it often brings these into direct conflict....but without a lot of writers and readers ever perceiving any conflict exists, because they’re completely centered on Jason’s actions and choices rather than Dick’s wants and needs, to the extent that in a lot of fics, the latter never even comes up for a mention.

And that’s the part that just will never work in my eyes. If its about what happened to Dick, it needs to be about what he wants or needs as a result. There can be other elements in play as well, by all means Jason and others can absolutely have their own conflicting views about what happened and wants/needs for revenge that are at odds with what Dick himself wants, and this doesn’t make them bad or wrong, but there’s so much room for intricate and complicated dynamics and insights there....whereas there’s just none of that in narratives that use harm done to Dick as a catalyst for character choices.....just without Dick’s character choices ever then entering the narrative as being considered at all relevant.

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daretosnoop · 3 years

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If Henry Bolet continued to work with Nancy after CRY: A Series (can be taken as both platonic and romantic)

MID - last one guys, thanks for reading

- so because Nancy’s case goes from Germany to Salem, I’m going to say that Henry was with Nancy in Germany

- when Nancy asks him to join her to Germany, Henry starts sobbing uncontrollably and speaking incomprehensible words

Henry (sobbing): NANCE! NANCY DREW! You’re ALIVE?!?! Where have you been!??!? Everyone’s been looking for you for 4 years now! You just disappeared! No one could find anything (sobs)! We all thought (sobs)! I thought I lost another p-(sobs harder) Your father —. Whenever we asked for an investigation we just got summaries of all the previous cases you’ve been on, like what the hell is that!?!?

Nancy: so, about Germany....

- it isn’t until the plane ride to Germany that Henry realizes: “Nance? What happened to your voice?”

- when Nancy gets the book stolen by Jason: Henry chases after him cause military boy, Nancy does not yell “stop” cause that’s freaking dumb. And then Jason puffs off, Henry:

- when Henry meets Teegan and Deirdre:

Nancy : why are they swaying so much?

Henry: they’ve been possessed

- when Henry meets Mei:

Like they’re going to hit it off cause Henry just gets that “stick it to the man” energy, but initially it’s just a stare down

- when Nancy sees Mei’s room and comments how she shouldn’t go in:

Henry: right, need me to distract Mei while so you can snoop?

Nancy: no, that would be wrong.

Henry:

- when Nacy goes to town and meets Olivia, Henry has a full own rant to express how much he hates the capitalist construct of Halloween and turning moments of tragic history into a ghost tour. Like Henry seems the kind of guys who values the history more than the “spooky legends”. Probably bonds on Teegan with this and is able to get more clues out from her than Nancy.

- When Henry meets Judge Danforth:

Henry: how is it possible to lock yourself into a room??

Also,

Henry: these are the type of people who make you wait for endlessly while on hold

- neutral on Alicia

- loves the graveyard area. It’s small but beautiful and cozy at night. Will definitely light a candle and put it on the grave.

- loves the path of Hawthorn house. Freaks out with the jump scare. His scream alerts Lauren, not Nancy suddenly fading out

- instantly reminded of Renee, little weary but also a little sad cause he’s reminded of home and the mess that ensued. Gets a little homesick. Romantic potential here to have Nancy pick on how Lauren’s herbal work might bring bad memories to Henry and console him as they walk back to the Parry house.

- excited to see the Hardy boys. First time he’d be seeing them, they hit off right away. Probably closer to Joe cause Joe would accept him right away while Frank would be a little awkward at first

- makes the pancakes. I have a persona headcanon that he’s great at cooking seeing as he went to boarding and military school, he learned to take care of himself. So much early morning fluff potential here with Nancy if romantic

- is not into making herbal remedies, leaves that to Nancy as he snoops around

- kinda let down by the Hawthorn house, it’s not as cool as he thought it would be.

- cries when he sees the museum and library cause this is all they have? This? The Salem witch trials have sparked so much studies and this is all they have to show for it? Bruno Bolet had more stuff in his library that these guys! Takes out his frustration on carving pumpkins, then goes and gets the research material for Nancy

-when calling Teegan’s boyfriend:

Henry: they’re dating?!? Like even Henry knows somethings odd

Also, on the topic of phone calls

- if this was romantic, I don’t think Ned would call it Nancy would mind so much if she heard *that woman*

- if this was platonic this can go two ways:

1. Henry overhears and tells Nancy to focus on the case to distract her mind, meanwhile he’s aggressively texting Ned to explain himself and call Nancy back

2. If Henry has a crush on Nancy, oh this has so much angst potential where he wants to console her and ask Ned what’s up but he also wants Nancy to dump Ned and be with him...

Also, I have a personal headcanon that the woman in the phone was Summer, cause he and Ned went to the same college, and Summer knew Henry from college so there’s like some interesting potential to explore there. Maybe Henry panics and tells Ned about Summers true personality!?!?

- that moment with Deirdre in the car with the music that sounds similar to Daft Punk Get Lucky:

Henry: awkward third wheel in the back

When Mei happens to be playing this song and Nancy tried to be buddy buddy with her:

He just pushes her aside and takes over. Knows Mei is hidding something but can’t for the life of him understand why

- doesn’t like how secretive everyone is being and how they are all being careful and soft around Mei. Almost wants to gather everyone and yell at them for keeping grudges and secrets

- So MID gave Deirdre the best turn around, he gets along with all her sass. Laughs when she insults Jason.

- does not like Jason

- opinion on Alica changes with the home cooked meal metaphor. Cause GROSS woman! Also, Ifnthus was romantic, Nancy would have to change her metaphor cause Henry, sweet as he is, is not a home cooked guys unless you’re part of the Adam’s family.

- i get the feeling that Henry knows a lot of random knowledge, especially on dark or morbid topics. So I feel he would know quiet a bit on the Salem Witch trials and brings up things like mugwort poisoning, sexual assault, land grabbing, etc. There are a lot of theories behind the Salem trials, you guys should check it out.

- if Henry goes with the Hardy boys there’s potential for bro bonding in a cemetery to occur. Or idk, maybe Henry had a crush on one of the brothers and thinks investigating ghosts in the cemetery is a great place to get closer.

- if romantic with Nancy, he goes back to the Parry house and they bond over discussing the case.... or Neds behaviour

- the whole ergot poisoning can also have some hurt/fluff potential. Person A gets sick Person B panics and heals them. Person B gets mad at whoever poisoned Person A

- when he learns about the whole trio friendship and the fire and how the town blamed Mei cause she’s a “bad kid” he gets really pisses off

Ranting to Nancy: how is this legally possible?!? How is it possible to plan a crime ON A MINOR who wasn’t even involved. She was just there at the time. Hello!? Who did the freaking investigation?!? What’s their number? I just have some questions!

- really doesn’t understand how Salem is able to get away with these things. Like ya ya he gets the connection to the witch trials but bitch this is the 21st century! We have laws to prevent witch trials!!

- doesn’t understand why Lauren’s guardian didn’t just give Lauren the stupid deed for the burnt up house

- when investigating Olivia’s store: mutters about how this is ruining the true Halloween aesthetic! Also concerned with how she’s earning money cause if I remember correctly, she doesn’t charge for her tours and gives iPads away without making sure people return them?!?

-feels that Nancy spends way too much time talking and less time snooping

- doesn’t understand how the Judge can’t figure out who broke into the court house

- when he finds out that Mei has been covering for Jason.... is just like... dude, you do know you can get a record for aiding a criminal??

- when he learns Jason’s reason for stealing the book and helping Alicia: 😒

Henry: can’t stand rich people

Nancy: you’re rich

Henry: but you don’t see me commiting crime

Nancy: what about selling Bruno’s property before it was yours to sell? What was it you told me? I was naughty....

Henry: do not make me remember 😳

- when he learns that Alicia was the one who set the house on fire and caused everyone to get ergot poisoning, and her reason for doing so: okay he can go along with this, it seems in line for a ND villain

- but when he learns about TEEGAN MOTHAFUCKIN PERRY and what she did:

Nancy has to hold him back from unleashing his anger

- really worried for Mei here. Half tempted to offer her a place to stay at his manor:

Henry: listen the downside is that there’s a cemetery attached. The pros is that none of the people buried have any intentions of framing you

Also tells Deirdre that she’s quite sane compared to her extended family

- with the whole underground tunnels Henry’s like:

- given Henry’s propensity for ghosts and gothic, there could be this cool second story where he can communicate with the dead women and they help him help Nancy solve the case and they are the ones who help Henry lead the group out of the tunnels

- the end game “party” is cool for like 5 min. Then Henry’s slipping out ✌️

There’s so much romantic potential with this end because it could be him and Nancy or one of the Hardy boys walking off together, there could be a romantic confession/angst scenario

And that’s it for Henry guys.

#nancy drew #henry bolet #Midnight in Salem

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emotionalcello-makefanfics · 5 years

Text

A Place to Go (DamiJay Fic for Fictober)

Prompt number: 1. “It will be fun, trust me.”

Fandom : DCU/Batman. No powers AU

Rating: General Audience

Warnings/Tags: None/ Slice of life, fluff, kinda platonic

Summary : Damian is in Jason’s home because Damian doesn’t want to go to his. The two just talk, along the way, Damian shared something he never would even to a friend, more or less to Jason. Jason, the stranger, just went along.

Word count : 1k

Click link to read on AO3

Click keep reading to read on tumblr~

++++

Damian laid in a bed that’s not his. Sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, is the owner of the bed and the room he’s in, Jason. Both still in their work attire. Damian in a black suit and trousers, red shirt and patterned green tie. His leather briefcase is somewhere in the room. Jason is in a wifebeater after taking off the top half of his jumpsuit and his tool belt is somewhere along with Damian’s briefcase. The muscles of Jason’s arms are intimidating, sparking dubious interest and envy withing Damian’s gut.

The lights are dim, it doesn’t hurt Damian’s eye as he lay on his back on the springy creaky bed.

“How many times does this make it?” The younger, Damian, asked to the ominously stained ceiling.

“Twice,” Jason answers lazily, perching his elbows on his thigh as his face lay on his palm.

“Already two times too many.”

“Well, you can’t blame me for that.”

“Of course I can, what you’re doing is completely unnecessary and a breach of my privacy.”

Jason rolled his eyes to his brain, “Me? Loose your tight tie. The two times you’re here all I know is that you’re a pain in the ass and a broke back for puffing your chest so much.”

“My back is perfectly straight!” Damian disavowed.

“Yeah no doubt about that, but that’s not what I saw on the subway today.”

Damian shuts his mouth and as his eyes look away to the window on the other side of the bed, he has no intention to answer that.

“I thought I saw you riding some fancy tesla, and now I’ve seen you there twice-”

“I’m sick of you interfering with my business, stop it.”

“Look, I didn’t force you to do anything. I didn’t even touch you. You willingly followed me here and lay down on my bed voluntarily. You can leave anytime you want.”

Damian stays silent, still looking towards the window with his hand folded over his chest.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Jason established after seeing Damian pouting, “You can stay here as long as you want.”

“A bit too generous for someone you barely know. What’s your price?”

“Information,” Jason smirked as he finally looked at Damian in the eyes, who’s already regretted asking him, but he complies anyway. “Tell me why you’re really standing there at the edge of the waiting line.”

“Contrary to your suspicion, I was not about to jump into the train tracks.”

“Okay, so? What were you doing staring emptily into the train tracks while the tip of your shoes almost brushed against the trains?” Jason is, of course, exaggerating, but it’s what Jason saw and Damian rolled his eyes at the man’s antics.

Breathing shallowly, Damian looks down at his fumbling hands, “I was thinking of a place where I could go.”

“One of those places is not home?”

“No.”

“A friend’s place?”

“Don’t have anyone like that.”

“Motels?”

Damian cringed, “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“Hey, I don’t judge.” Jason raises his palms, “Everyone has needs, and it’s legal here.”

“I don’t pay people to have sex with me,” Damian states, feeling baffled that he needs to state that.

“What about the unpaid one though?” Jason wiggled his eyebrows.

“None.”

Jason continues to look at him, for a few seconds he doesn’t seem like he has anything to say, so does Damian. The two stay in silence as they try to figure the other out. At this point, Damian is just stalling until he finally gathered the will to get up and go back to the family mansion that he bet is empty. Or worse, his mother will be there, demanding him to talk about how well the company is going, and she will demand good news. The last thing Damian wants when he comes home is talk about the family business again and again.

Jason, on the other hand, has no one like that and he’s completely fine with that. Life has been blissful since he cut off his toxic family, and his close friends have been closer to family for him. What he’s thinking so hard about now, is what a person like Damian would need.

“You drink?” Jason finally asked.

“Occasionally.”

“Cool, wanna go to a bar?”

“I’m not in a party mood,” Damian scowls.

“It’s not a club. A bar, dude. Don’t tell me you’ve never gone to one,” Jason says incredulously, looking pitifully at the baby in a suit on his bed. Damian glares at the bulky man.

“I’m too busy working to go to places like that,” Damian rebuked.

“That excuse is not making you look any less pitiful man.” Jason chuckled but quickly shuts up seeing Damian glaring at him. “I know a chill bar, we’ll just drink beer, eat cheap fried food and maybe play pool. We don’t even need to talk about anything personal, just talk about anything else you want, or not at all, whatever, how about it?”

That actually tempt Damian. The weight of his responsibilities suddenly come to make itself known.

“And why would you do that for me? We’re strangers.”

Jason shrugged his shoulder, “I know that look on your face, I’ve been there. And believe me, all you need is a break. Just let go of the burden and responsibilities for a while and relax. You’ll come back to the problem with a clearer head and you’ll be fine,” Jason coaxed, and it’s working.

“It helps that you’re cute too,” Jason adds marvelously with his charming smile. The smile cancels the compliment that Damian received as an insult. He worked hard to be perceived as a grown adult despite his cursed babyface. Though, Damian would also have to admit that the man is very much his type.

Tall, confident, looking like he’s looking for trouble, but actually kind-hearted. Yes, Damian likes bad boys with a heart of gold, but he’s not gonna admit that, not at least until the tenth date.

Damian doesn’t seem as defensive as he was. His shoulders slumped as he looks at Jason’s eased face. At that moment, the room brightens up, and Damian feels more comfortable in his skin. For the first time in forever, Damian takes a deep breath and sighed the weight in his heart.

“That does sound nice.” Damian sits up and slings his legs beside Jason’s, “I’m Damian.”

Jason smiled, “I’m Jason, nice to finally know your name.”

#fictober19 #fictober #damijay #damijay fanfic #jaydami #idk man #wow my fic is under 2k word? call the police #I'm proud tbh that I didn't over do it #We all been there where we meant it to be a short fic and it turned to be a full blown series #not this girl #NOT TODAY BIH

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peterjakes · 5 years

Text

Sam x Grizz Fanfic - ‘Things do not change; we change’

pls don’t judge too harshly this was written in like 2 hours thanks x

also posted of ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/21195665

Sam had found Grizz down by the gardens, of course he was by the gardens. Sam could hardly blame him; the group had barely been back 5 minutes when they had interrupted the complete disaster of the coup. Grizz appreciated peace and quiet. He liked to be alone. This was one of the things Sam learned about him during Thanksgiving. Sam longed to go back to that night, he felt so comfortable, so real, so normal lying next to Grizz. Amongst all of the recent chaos, it was the only thing that kept him sane, thinking about the closeness between them and how they just seemed to slot together like the perfect key. Since Eden’s birth and the whole mess with Lexie and Harry, well, Sam had realised how lucky they all were before. It was the calm before the chaos, but none of them had really noticed until after.

It was obvious that Grizz could hear Sam’s footsteps down the path but made a conscious effort not to look up until the very moment Sam was standing right beside him. This wasn’t out of spite, more Grizz trying to forsake his own feelings. They hadn’t departed on bad terms, but a sort of limbo, in-between state. Not seeing or speaking to Sam for over a week had been hard. Walden had kept him occupied enough, as well as the thought of actually going back home with good news. But seeing him again, having to look at those beautiful, baby blues and face up to what had happened would be complete agony.

“Hey.” Sam was standing only 10 or so inches away from Grizz, he was almost tempted to kneel down beside him, to force him to talk to him but disregarded that thought when Grizz built up the courage to stare back up at him.

“Hey.” Grizz briefly glanced up, quickly signing, before focusing back on the plants he’d left behind, checking on them to repair any damage, not that he needed to. He didn’t want to avoid Sam, that was the last thing he wanted to do. But having to look at him, seeing Sam pitying him, he didn’t want that. Pushing these thoughts aside, he brushed his hands against each other, ridding of any dirt or soil, before pushing his body up to stand and did the thing he’d thought about ever since he and Sam last touched.

Both boys moved towards each other, and Sam himself was a little hesitant, but Grizz clasped onto Sam, as if his life depended on it, nuzzling his face into Sam’s shoulder. The smell of Sam, Sam’s own smell alone made Grizz feel more at home than he had been in a long time. Once again, Sam was required to be on his tiptoes, feeling the weight of Grizz’s warm body against his. This moment only lasted a few seconds, and once they departed Sam felt cold and alone once again. The hurt was still clear on Grizz’s face, and that antagonised Sam.

“How was it? The trip?” Sam spoke louder this time, aware that this was the only way he could communicate with Grizz; he wanted to keep his attention. But this was quite difficult considering Grizz wouldn’t look at him longer than five seconds before glancing away. He wished he’d look at him properly, but those longing, sad eyes would just make Sam feel worse. Since moving to New Ham, Sam had already seen Grizz cry quite a few times. Two of those were Sam’s own doing, which had haunted Sam since those moments. He didn’t want to ever be the culprit or reason again.

“Yeah, it was, uh, it was good. We found what we needed. So… All good.” Grizz replied, giving Sam a small but sad smile. He didn’t have much else to say. That’s what he told anyone else who asked in the past day since he and the others had come back. He hadn’t had much time to think about the farming plans. The complete and utter shit-show starring Lexie and Harry with appearances from Jason, Clark, and Luke had over clouded that. Grizz had spent the group’s first night back trying to understand how everything had gotten so messed up. Gordie had filled them in, only briefly, and that was enough to rile him up. Not that Grizz would act on it – violence was never his forte. He knew something had to be done; he had to help Allie and Will. But maybe focusing on his own mess, the ‘Sam’ mess, would be the best place to start.

“What did it look like?”

“It was beautiful.” Grizz looked up to Sam this time, signing the word ‘beautiful’ slowly and carefully, making it clear to Sam how special it was what they had found. And it was. He almost couldn’t believe what they discovered. That they were so lucky. Out of the group who went on the expedition, Grizz was the least optimistic. He desperately wanted to find something, wanted to come back with even a little glimmer of hope. They’d succeeded in that, but it almost seemed too late – as if everything had already gone wrong before they could even start mending it.

“There was a river?” Sam wanted to picture every single detail, he wanted Grizz to unload to him, all of his worries about the future, about how to farm, about what type of fish they could have for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, about anything that would bring Grizz back him.

“Yeah, with fish and everything. It was great, Sam.” For reasons unknown to himself, when Grizz spoke his name so kindly and softly, even after everything, it made Sam’s heart bounce and swell and flutter and smile the softest smile. Even with this awkwardness between them, Sam could see how proud Grizz was of their discovery. Or at least he was before they’d come back, the realisation that everything that their community had worked for in the past 6 months had been shattered to pieces in just a week may have ruined that sensation. But Sam wanted Grizz to be happy with himself, he deserved it. It was clear to Sam how hard the group tried, and how much they all wanted to give good news to everyone.

Sam nodded along, “Wow. That’s great.” Holding onto every single word that escaped Grizz’s mouth, yearning for a little more.

Grizz took a sharp intake of breath, “How’s Becca?” He knew the conversation would eventually lead to the issue, so he thought he may as well get it over with. Not that he wasn’t concerned about Becca, or the baby, but having to relive that moment when he realised… Grizz pushed that thought of his mind, genuinely wanting to hear Sam’s reply.

“She’s fine. They’re both fine.” But nothing else was fine. Everything seemed to be falling apart around Sam and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“That’s good,” Grizz sniffed, his nose scrunching slightly, a movement that made Sam smile a real smile. “Eden, right? Gordie told me. It’s a lovely name.” Which was true. Eden, delight. In all honesty, he was just glad they didn’t call the child Gareth. That would have been a nightmare.

The mention of Eden made Sam’s heart sink; not because he didn’t want to talk about her. She was honestly the most precious thing Sam had ever seen, holding her brought more joy than he could ever have imagined and seeing Becca light up and glowing made him so happy. But he knew how hard it was for Grizz to even think about the baby. He didn’t want to hurt him any further, he wanted to take all of that pain away, unload it onto himself if needed.

“I missed you.” Sam ached for Grizz from the moment he left him alone near the trees until the morning he heard the group had come back. Every single night during that lonesome week, Sam had relived those small moments between the two boys. Wondering, pondering. Maybe if he’d done things differently, been less of a coward, more assertive, faced up to what needed to be said. He’d wanted to be there, next to Grizz, just as they had been. Laughing, smiling, laying against each other, skin touching. The calmness of being in each other’s arms.

Sam still didn’t know it was possible to feel like that about someone he’d only really got to know recently. But that didn’t seem to matter; that Thanksgiving night, they spoke for hours and hours, finding out every single little detail about each other, even the ones that really didn’t matter. It was cheesy, but Sam did feel as if he’d known Grizz for so much longer. Sam remembered something he read, that the number of years didn’t define a relationship, it was about how much someone meant to you, or believed in you, or was there for you. It isn’t about months; it’s about the moments. Maybe their subconsciousness’ were trying to make up for lost time. It was clear that both had wished they’d acted a little sooner. And the events after that night proved that to Sam.

“We weren’t gone long, Sam.” Grizz himself knew this was just an outright lie. In the grand scheme of things, a week wasn’t ridiculously long. But for Grizz, it was too much. Long enough to overplay every moment he and Sam had together. Contemplate what he said, but more what was left unsaid. How did they really stand with each other? Had everything gone too fast? What did Grizz really want from Sam? But really, the whole time Grizz was away, he just wanted to be with Sam, even with everything that had happened.

Sam shook his head at that remark, Grizz was being flippant and he couldn’t blame him. But he knew very well that this specific week, was complete and utter torture, for both of them. “I know. I’m glad you’re back. We need you. I-“

“Look, Sam-“

“Everything’s fucked. When you left, it all went south.” Sam was angry, not with Grizz specifically, but with everything that had happened. He couldn’t understand how people could be so fickle, so easily led, so downright stupid.

“Yeah,” Grizz chuckled ironically, brushing his hair back into his signature bun. “Fuck happened?”

“You’re the glue.” Sam said, putting special emphasis on signing ‘glue’. It was true, Grizz was special – Sam knew that. But when he there, he seemed to have this presence. People listened to him; people liked him. He just had this way with people that Sam truly admired. But there was so much of Grizz that Sam admired. So much that he treasured.

Grizz started to shake his head, “That’s not true.” He knew Sam didn’t mean it in that way, but he didn’t want that responsibility. He just wanted to do his job. He wanted to help the best way he knew how to. Though, Sam did have a point. They’d only been gone over a week and it seemed that as soon as they left, it all went into anarchy. He’d expected it from people like Lexi and Harry, two whom were never that happy about the way things were working. And two that had been so easily manipulated by Campbell. Grizz wondered how Sam felt about that. The two hadn’t spoken much about his brother, but the night when Sam admitted to everyone about Campbell, about who he really was, Grizz understood so clearly how much Sam had struggled with him. And for what Jason and Clark were saying the night before Grizz left, well, he never imagined those idiots would actually act on it. The phrase ‘brawns before brains’ was particularly apt when thinking about those two. But it was Luke. Luke, his best friend. Luke, who always seemed level-headed, strong-willed, and generally a good guy. It was Luke who disappointed Grizz the most.

“Grizz…” Sam, whilst signing his name by crossing his arms over his chest clawing it twice, which made Grizz chuckle, stepped forward slightly, mirroring the two boys positions the day Grizz left for the expedition. This brought Grizz back to reality. He didn’t want to invade Grizz’s space, no, that was the last thing he wanted, but he wanted this moment to be very clear and to have Grizz’s complete attention.

“She’s not mine. Eden. I lied. I’m sorry.” There was a beat. Silence. Sam could see the confusion in the taller boys’ eyes, as if he was going over what Sam had just said in his mind, trying to understand, comprehend those words. The words that would seemingly change it all. Or at least that’s what Sam hoped.

“What? What are you saying, Sam?” quizzed Grizz, looking rather puzzled.

“I’m not her father. I didn’t sleep with Becca.” Sam closed his eyes and shook his head as he said this. He didn’t know what he had expected Grizz to say, how he wanted him to react. He wasn’t going to be jumping for joy. But Sam didn’t want a repeat of their conversation in Grizz’s bedroom. Sam was heartbroken when he left Grizz alone that day. He hated what he’d done and hated how he couldn’t fix it.

“You lied?”

“I had good reason to. For Becca. She’s my best friend – I love her. I should have told you … But it wouldn’t have been fair on her, to betray her trust…” Sam knew from the moment Grizz realised about the baby and Sam himself confirmed it, that he’d messed up. He wished he could have told him then and there that no, the baby wasn’t his, but he was going to be a father figure to Becca’s child and be there for his best friend. He wanted to tell him then and there that he already cared about Grizz so much and desperately liked him. But Sam was a coward. A loyal one, but still a coward.

The day Grizz and the group came back, the same day Becca moved back home with Eden, Sam told her the truth about Grizz. Why they’d spent so much time together, why they’d suddenly got so close, why Grizz looked so heartbroken when he came to the hospital, why Sam was so upset when the expedition group left, where he’d really been during Thanksgiving. Becca, as usually, had questioned every single thing but finally understood. Her almost giving her blessing, telling Sam that she loved him and would never stand in his way of true happiness was music to his ears. But her admittance that if anyone had to know the truth, she would have wanted it to be Grizz? Well, that sealed it for Sam. He had to tell him. He had to at least try to fix his mess. Otherwise, he may have lost his one chance at happiness with someone he just couldn’t let go.

“But you’re telling me now?”

“You’re too important to let go.” Echoing his previous thoughts, Sam once again moved closer to Grizz and flicked a strand away from his face, wanting to have a complete view of those puppy dog eyes, filled with the utmost sadness that Sam just wanted to rid away, even with the boy opposite him trying to avoid his gaze. This didn’t last long, Grizz couldn’t help himself, the way Sam looked at him… Grizz wouldn’t care if he never had to look at anything else.

Grizz had to take a moment, he glanced away from Sam, focusing onto the nearby trees. Once he came back to reality, the sombre look on his face was all too clear to Sam but he didn’t look angry, almost relieved. Turning back to look at the freckled boy beside him, Grizz nodded as if he finally understood.

“You could have told me. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.” Sam couldn’t help but titter at this as it became clear to him that Grizz couldn’t be angry with him anymore.

“I’m telling you now.”

“Thank you.” Grizz only signed this, planting a kiss on his fingers before motioning towards Sam. And he was genuinely thankful for Sam. Thankful for his kindness, his understanding, his lovely face. But he was most thankful for him freeing them of the mess the two had found themselves in.

Their eyes met, but properly, this time, locking onto each other. This time it was Grizz who stepped forward, he slowly leaned down to Sam’s level, allowing their foreheads to brush against each other. Cupping Sam’s chin with his hand, Grizz slowly pushed his lips onto Sam’s, allowing them to brush against each other, softly and delicately, just long enough to inhale his breath, long enough to feel the warmth of him and the taste he’d been wanting to taste. Grizz was so tender and gentle with Sam, as if he was scared of hurting him in some way. The two boys’ bodies only moved ever so slightly against each other, and Sam moved his hands to gently caress Grizz’s sensitive cheeks. Neither wanted the moment to end, but Grizz gradually pulled away from his lips, quickly stroking Sam’s chin, giving him a weak smile. Grizz placed a strand of his hair behind his ears and opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself and instead mouthed “I missed you too”, whilst poking his chin with his index finger.

“You’re getting much better, I’m impressed.” Sam motioned towards Grizz’s hands, before taking them into his own, softly rubbing small circles in his palms.

“Learned from the best,” Grizz raised his eyebrow, to which Sam shrugged and could feel the warmth coming from Grizz. “But you’ve still got more to teach me.”

“Okay, Gareth.” Sam smirked to himself, the weight of the stress and agony Sam felt about Grizz had been lifted off his shoulders, just as the tension between the two had finally been lifted. He felt complete ease being in his company, bumping into Grizz shoulder playfully with a huge smile on his face.

Grizz teasingly pushed Sam, but quickly pulled him in for a side hug, planting a small but meaningful kiss on his forehead. Sam reciprocated; his soft lips with the slightest hint of coolness, leaving a small wet mark on Grizz’s flushed red cheeks, covering the dampness of his tears. And at that moment, Grizz was reminded of what Sam had asked in, only a week or so ago. That ‘almost everything’, was fading away. Right then and there, Grizz had exactly everything he needed.

#the society #grizzam #sam x grizz #grizz x sam #the society fic #the society fanfic #the society fanfiction #grizzam fanfic #grizzam fic #grizzam fanfiction #reunion #things do not change; we change #*mine #*my writing

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thatawesomenerdygirl · 7 years

Text

Kitty Cat || Jason Todd

Requested by; freshswag123

Prompt; Hey can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader is catwomans daughter and Bruce's daughter? It's okay if you can't

Warning; suggestive.

"Hurry up, sweetheart!" Your mother called, she was ready to get out of the museum. One foot was placed on the window frame along with her hands.

"Wait up!" You whined for your mother and quickly snatched the ruby ring into your hand before running over to the window, to catch up with your mother who had climbed up to the roof.

You had been a-- well-- thief for more than a year. With your mother the one and only Selina Kyle as your mentor and partner in crime. She taught everything you needed to know about fighting, using the devices, sneaking. Anything.

Even as far as telling you that Bruce Wayne is Batman, him being your father, biological father, was a bonus and speaking of the Devil.

"Put it back where it belongs." Batman's gruff voice was heard just as soon as you reached the roof, he was standing a few feet in front of your mother.

"Batman." Your mother purred, walking over to him slowly yet confidently not even showing a sign that she was quivering. "You're not the boss of me, so why should I?"

Catwoman walked around him as if she was judging him or checking him out, her fingers were ghosting along his chest up to his shoulder then his broad back, shoulder before went back to his chest and retreated.

"Catch." A small pocket was thrown towards you which you swiftly caught it. You knew what your mother wanted, you ran from them to your client's place after tucking it in your utility belt around your waist.

But you were not that stupid, Batman always has his way.

After you were far enough, you stopped and turned around. "Bucket head, I know you're there."

A figure walked out from the dark shadow of the billboard on the building. Classic. You thought. Still amusing to you how he would make a dramatic entrance, or it was just you?

You would always meet him, literally everywhere you went to he would be there too. Running after you, trying to catch you or just to follow you for some information. You didn't stop him since he was such an interesting guy, you kinda liked the guy.

Who doesn't? He was hot with or without his helmet or mask. Oh yeah, you had seen him alright,

"My favorite little kitten, don't you have a better name to call me with?" Red hood crossed his arms across his muscular chest, the sight of him doing that always makes you gulp almost audibly. Nobody could blame you since his muscle flexed and it was endearing.

"Pill head? Bullet head? Red riding hood?" You listed all possible names you could think of, they were all ridiculous and you just couldn't help it. "look, can't you just leave me alone?"

You heard him breathed out a chuckle under his helmet as he walked closer to you, "what kind of guy who leaves a pretty girl alone?" He inquired, now standing right in front of you. "I'm not a jerk."

You really had to tilt your head up to take a good look of his lenses-covered-eyes with your own. You knew you were distracted, the next thing you realized that he had pointed his gun right on your forehead. The hard metal pressing against your soft skin painfully.

"Now give it back."

You only scoff, your hand reaching to trail along his knuckles up to his wrist, forearm, upper arm before finally resting on his broad shoulder. "If I don't?" You found yourself challenged.

"I'm going to shoot your smarty brain." He responded simply.

"No, you aren't."

"True," he then drew back his gun, putting it inside his brown leather jacket calmly. "But I will still hit and fight you." He added.

"Oh, how could you say that to a weak, young girl like me!" You said in a mock hurt and offended tone, giving him a playful glare from behind your mask and he could tell.

"You are anything but weak, kitten." Jason pointed out a matter of factly, his gloved hand reaching to your hair that was tied in a ponytail before his, gloved, fingertips brushing against the soft locks.

You gently swatted his hand away from your hair, as much as you liked it you couldn't let your guard down. Especially around him. "Whoa there tiger, personal space."

Jason didn't take his eyes off you until he decided to take his helmet off, leaving the domino mask on his face to hide his gorgeous green eyes.

"Aww," you cooed in a false disappointment, moving your hand to cup his face. "Why don't you take the mask off too?" Your thumb brushing along his cheek. You could feel a faint bump of his old scars under your finger.

Jason's arm slithering around your waist pulling you closer to him, "my little kitten wants to see my face?" He asked in a husky purr, his face became closer to yours every time his lips moved.

You could feel his warm breath fanning your face as you wrap your own arms around his neck, you gently bit your lower lip before a small sly smirk plastered across your red colored lips.

This always happens, the flirting. There won't be a day where you meet him and not flirt. It almost sounded like a ritual between the two of you, a habit that would never fade or go away. Yet, you didn't mind, you liked it that way. You could get closer and talk. Give each other feathery touches.

Though none of you ever do or even thought that far.

"What can I say, I won't miss my chance." You purred back.

Jason hummed lowly, giving your words a little thought as he returned your smirk with his charming one. This damn guy always an effect on you, and god did you hate it.

"What about a trade?"

"Trade?"

"You get to see my face and I want whatever you stole back."

"Wha--?" You breathed out amusedly, an eyebrow raised. His request, or trade, was unbelievably stupid. It was so stupid you wanted to accept the offer. "Sorry baby, a client's request. Girls gotta eat." Unfortunately, you had to back away from him to prove your point. "It was tempting, I have to admit that."

"Worth a shot." The dark haired male shrugged, putting his damned helmet back on, covering the rest of his attractive features.

You frowned, did he just gave up. This guy had almost, almost, never ever gives up. It was disappointing but at least you didn't have to argue with him further, less the trouble more time you got to get back home and sleep the night.

You saw him turned on his heels, starting to walk away from you. "Leaving already?"

"You didn't want to trade then I have no more to say." Jason waved his hand before vanishing into the darkness.

You let out a light chuckle, sighing when you finally realized what he actually had done. Your hand had dug into your belt, where the small brown bag and the ring you placed in before, they were gone.

"Todd, you one sly dog." You only could laugh.

Jason, on the other hand, was hiding on the other side of the billboard with his back leaning against the metal, the bag dangling in front of him as he held it.

"You need to learn from your previous mistakes, kitty cat." He chuckled to himself.

Too much?

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #red hood x reader #one shot #dcu #dc #dc universe #catwoman #batman #selina kyle #bruce wayne

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unavenged-robin · 7 years

Text

Petrichor

Petrichor (n) the smell of earth after rain.

Or the one where they can’t take death seriously anymore (even if it still hurts).

Read on Ao3

He gets the call around 4:00 AM in the morning and almost dislocates his shoulder in the attempt to grab the phone on the nightstand without raising his head from the pillow. Once he sees the name on the screen he’s really tempted to just throw the phone away and go back to sleep. He answers it just because of Dick. A lot of his decisions lately are because of Dick. He doesn’t know why or, at least, he’s never in the right mood to get all introspective and actually find out all the reasons for this new misplaced sense of guilt that’s been affecting him since the day of his brother’s funeral. Like with almost every other thing in his life (and in his death) he just goes with it.

“Hey B.”, he forces himself to answer, keeping his voice purposely rough to make sure Bruce understands he’s bothering him without actually telling it to his face. Baby steps, he supposes.

Bruce doesn’t seem to care about his subtleties anyway, because he only grunts into the speaker of his comm.

“Damian’s missing”, he says, getting straight to the point. He doesn’t add anything, doesn’t even pretend to ask for his help, he just expects it right away.

And a month ago, hell, even a week ago, Jason would’ve answered with something along the line of “and why should that be my problem?” or even a more straightforward “the fuck I care?” and then hung up on him for good measure, but now those words barely flash through his mind while he gets up from the bed and starts looking for his boots.

“Is that a “someone kidnapped him” missing or a “I yelled at him and he stomped away and when I checked his room he wasn’t there and now I can’t find him” missing?”, he asks, knowing that whatever the answers is he’s going to help anyway. Though the first option sounds honestly better to him, at least there would be someone to punch. But Bruce doesn’t answer him, so.

“Okay, the second one then”, he sighs, not surprised at all. “Did he take his bike or one of the cars? Please tell me he didn’t take the jet because I’m honestly not awake enough to fly around the States looking for your son.”

And again, a month ago, hell, even a week ago, Damian taking off to blow some steam on his own wouldn’t have been such a big problem. Rather the contrary, in fact. Often enough giving Damian some space was the best course of action for keeping the good health of everyone involved. But right now the kid is dealing with both his own resurrection and the death of the person he arguably loved more than everything else in the world, his own parent and maybe even his own pets included. Because the shit in their life works like that. Go big or go home it’s the ongoing motto.

“All the vehicles are accounted for”, Bruce answers. “At least all the ones we are aware of. He could have some of his own stashed away somewhere.”

Considering the kid’s passion for whatever motorized thing he could get his little hands on to make it fly or run twice its normal speed, the idea of him having some sort of secret mechanical workshop hidden in the city is not crazy at all. It wouldn’t be a reassuring thought the most of times, and now less than ever.

“But he took off from home on his feet, right?”, Jason asks anyway, hating the way his voice cracks a little around the word home and hoping Bruce’s too distracted to notice. He blames the lack of sleep for that slip of the tongue. And Dick. Alive or not, Dick’s always the one to blame when it comes to family.

“Yes, I believe so”, Bruce’s voice is tired, but Jason’s doesn’t care all that much about it. Knowing him, he’s brought this over his own head (and over Jason’s head too, apparently, and that earns him even less sympathy from him.)

“Anyone else looking?”, Jason asks again, putting on the first more or less clean shirt he finds on the floor.

“Red Robin and Batgirl are on it.”

Jason whistles, picking up his jacket and the bike’s keys.

“Then you can relax, old man. I mean, if we’re not a match for your ten years old we might as well hung up capes, computers and guns once and for all.”

“Mh”, Bruce answers noncommittally. He sounds suspiciously resigned. Like he’s just waiting for the next blow to catch him off guard.

Jason stops with a hand over the door handle, unsure of what to say next.

“C’mon Bruce, it’s Damian”, he tries slowly. “He’s going to be okay, you know?”

“He was Damian last time too”, Bruce reminds him sharply. And one could put Dick or even Jason instead of Damian, and the implications wouldn’t change. It irks him right away, and even if he’s actively trying not to be an ass about this whole thing, he doesn’t have a lot of patience for Bruce to start with.

“Okay, okay”, he returns, voice just slightly annoyed. “Don’t get all batshit now, we’ll find the brat. I’ll call you when I have news.”

He hangs up without a goodbye and just stares at the closed door.

He doesn’t have to do this, it’s not his problem. Sure, he cares about the kid - about the entire family, if he’s going to be honest with himself - there’s no use in denying it after he went over himself to help Bruce get Damian back. And he would do it again. There’s no doubting his help in case of emergency, that’s pretty clear to everyone. But this is not an emergency, this is family drama and he doesn’t have to get involved. Mostly because he knows that getting involved one time is going to set a dangerous precedent, and soon enough he may find himself running around Gotham every time Alfred runs out of milk (not that he would deny Alfred anything if he ever asked, but it’s the principle of the thing.)

He jingles the keys in his fingers for a moment, then he sighs.

Damian’s missing and Jason has to care about it. He blames this too on Dick. He’s pretty sure that now he’ll feel obliged to do the brat’s bidding and endure his outbursts just because of Dick. Because he’s not there to do it anymore. Because he would appreciate if Jason stepped up and took his place. Because there is a heartbroken child wandering alone into the night and Batman is after him (because Jason has no doubt Bruce geared up into his costume and all to go after Damian. It mustn’t have even crossed his mind, the idea to do it as himself, as Bruce Wayne. To just get into one of his expensive cars and go after his son in his pajama and slippers like any other normal father would. It’s one of those thing Bruce just doesn’t get.) (Although, to be fair, this is Damian, so the possibility of ninjas and weird villains and god knows what other unspecified dangers could be happening anyway, but honestly, that’s not how it feels. This feels like a kid’s temper tantrum, one of those crazy things that happen to normal families too. And no, the irony’s not lost on him.)

Jason grabs his helmet and locks the door, and doesn’t even bother to take his guns with him.

He calls Tim before starting the bike, just to have a second opinion.

“He called you too, uh?”, he doesn’t sound surprised. To be fair, there are very few things that can truly surprise Tim anymore.

“Yeah. You know how he is”, Jason answers.

They both know how Bruce is. Bruce is focused. Usually on more than just one thing or one person, but lately Damian has understandably stolen all of his attention. Which makes this missing business even more ridiculous, because after all that happened one would expect from Bruce to be a little bit more attentive to Damian’s whereabouts. Like, plant three different tracking devices on him attentive, at least.

Tim sighs in his ear, and he sounds as tired as Jason feels.

“Yeah”, he replies. “Which is why I’d like to find the demon brat as soon as possible and just go back to bed.”

Jason hums in agreement.

“Do you know what they were fighting about?”

Tim hesitates in a way that makes Jason think that yes, he does know, but also that he kind of feels guilty about knowing.

“Timbo?”, he prompts him.

There is another hesitation, longer this time.

“Dick”, Tim finally answers, and the pain is so damn clear in his voice. Damian may have been closer to Dick lately, but Tim had spent half his childhood with him. He was, in a sense, the first real brother Dick ever had, because if he and Dick had to be honest about it, then they’d have to admit that Jason became Dick’s brother in retrospect, when it was too late. Never when he was actually there, because Dick was still young then, and angry. Having been there and done that, Jason doesn’t blame him anymore, but now he wonders if Tim knows it, if he knows how much his presence has reshaped the family dynamic, so that Robin didn’t have to be an only child anymore. Somehow he doubts it.

Jason rubs the bridge of his nose. He’s really happy he was not there to hear the fight between Bruce and Damian. They both could be deadly vicious with their words (other than with their fists and their knives, obviously.)

“Obviously”, he repeats out loud. “Alright, where are you?”

Tim gives him and address and Jason frowns. It’s closer to his territory and that’s not a place where he wants an angry Robin to be wandering around. He hopes Damian’s not anywhere near there, and already regrets leaving his guns behind.

“First one to find him gets to swat him before calling Bruce?”, he dares Tim.

“Nope. If you want to volunteer for being a victim of fratricide that’s your problem”, Tim retorts. “Leave me out of it. I’ve already suffered my fair share.”

“Fine, Red Chicken”, Jason scoffs before hanging up. “You’re no fun at all.”

He calls Barbara and Alfred too, just to know which territories have already been covered. He doesn’t bother with Bruce because he’s pretty sure he’s doing a recog of the whole Gotham and trying to talk him out of it would be a waste of time.

In the end Jason happens to know just a little bit more than the rest of them about daddy issues, dead children and dead children coming back to life, and that’s probably why he finds him first. He doesn’t even have to look that hard or drive too far away. Only to the Manor’s and, more specifically, to the Manor’s cemetery.

Damian’s right there, sitting on Dick’s tombstone. He’s wearing his pajamas, mudded bare feet dangling above the ground. If it wasn’t the middle of the night, if this wasn’t a cemetery, and if this wasn’t Damian, it would look like a little kid mindlessly taking a break in the middle of a playground.

Instead there’s a child sitting on his brother’s grave, and around him there are his other brother's, his father’s and even his own empty tombs. Jason has no doubt that if Damian had the power to chose which grave should be empty and which one full, he would be a goner. It’s not a fair thought, but Jason rarely gets fair things, so he’s not ashamed of it too much.

He kills the bike and walks slowly towards the kid. He can’t believe Bruce never thought of checking here. No, he must have looked around, and Damian probably just had kept himself hidden from his father. Not that Jason can blame him for that - and not like Jason didn’t use to do exactly the same thing himself when he was Damian’s age (both with Bruce and his real father).

The cobblestone-covered path crackles under his boots as he walks, wet grass making it slippery and squeaky. Damian’s looking down at his hands and he doesn’t acknowledge Jason when he approaches him, even if there’s no way he didn’t notice him.

Jason, for his part, doesn’t really know what to do now that he has found the brat. He should probably just call Bruce and leave, but that doesn’t feel right. He’s not so eager about picking a fight with the kid either, though, which is where any attempts at conversation is going to land him. But he’s not here to fight. There’s going to be scolding and heartfelt conversations about not leaving home in the middle of the night when everyone’s already so alarmed that they could start fucking ringing or howling like sirens at any little thing, but Jason’s not the one who’s gonna do any of it. And if Bruce’s half as smart as he thinks he is, he’ll not say a word either. Those kind of things are mostly Alfred’s job anyway. Used to be Dick’s too, but eh.

So Jason sits down on Damian’s own grave, his back against the tombstone, so he can still face the kid. He doesn’t say hello, doesn’t even try to attract his attention. Gives him the choice on when, how and on what basis their conversations should start.

The silence between them is heavy, but not uncomfortable. Definitely familiar. Jason remembers a night spent at Dick’s apartment, both of them sitting on Dick’s old couch. He was reading a book, Damian was playing on his phone, Tim and Dick were easily chatting in kitchen. This quiet feels a bit like that, just colder. And wetter. And lonelier.

He feels something crawl on the back of his hand and swats it away without even looking at it. For some reasons this seems to attract Damian’s attention.

“Why did you kill it?”, Damian asks, looking at him for the first time since he arrived. “It was only a firefly.”

And now Jason can see that there is a firefly in Damian’s cupped hands too, or at least that’s what the faint light between his fingers seems to suggest. He straightens his back and meets the kid’s gaze with his own. He thinks about his question for a moment, then just shrugs.

“I don’t care for bugs”, he answers honestly.

Damian tilts his head at him.

“Why?”, he asks again. He looks mildly curious, which is a good thing. Only a little weird.

Jason shrugs again.

“Same reason you don’t care for reptiles, I suppose.”

Damian scrunches up his nose at that.

“Snakes are between the deadliest animals in the world”, he retorts. “Some of them can shoot venom up to six feet with better accuracy than yours, not that it would be difficult to best you on that regard”, a little pause. “Beside, they slither”, he adds with a disgusted grimace.

Jason does his best not to laugh.

“Well, bugs are gross”, he offers in return.

And they eat corpses, but he’s not gonna say that with Dick six feet under them. Let’s not give the kid new materials for his nightmares.

Damian doesn’t seem to think “gross” an adequate excuse for killing fireflies, but Jason’s not going to push it. They all have their weird little things, and he’d rather not tell Damian horror stories about dead kids crawling out of their graves at night, digging into the mud under the rain and feeling worms and maggots and god knows what else between the fingers. He’s not going to tell him that that night smelled exactly like this one.

“Your dad’s looking for you”, he says instead, because at some point they’d have to address the topic of a giant, worried Bat scurrying the streets of Gotham in search of his offspring anyway.

Damian curls his fingers and his toes but otherwise keeps a pretty decent facade of indifference.

“I know.”

Almost no feeling behind those words too. Yes, the kid’s getting really good at the emotionally constipated thing. He wants to make a joke about Dick turning in his grave, but he stops himself in time. Why has his mind to be so fucking morbid he’ll never understand. He focuses back on Damian, who’s trying really hard not to look like a ten years old in dire need of a hug. He’s failing.

“He’s not angry”, Jason offers, even though he doesn’t know if that’s true or not. He hopes it is, though.

“No, he’s never angry”, Damian unexpectedly agrees. “Only disappointed.”

Jason’s heart kind of falls into the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know how to answer to that. It’s too personal, the feelings hit too close to home. He can’t say I know, he doesn’t want to say it. He’s not ready to have this conversation with someone else, much less with Damian, who’s arguably the brother most similar to him. First, because Jason’s trying so hard, for his own peace of mind, not to make comparisons between them since the day Damian died, and second, because he can’t let the kid count the similarities and make dangerous equations about them. Can’t let him see a Red Hood in his future instead of a Nightwing.

That’s why Dick should be the one giving speeches about father-son relationships. That’s also why Dick should go fuck himself, ectoplasm and all.

Damian’s line of thoughts must have been wandering in a similar direction because, while Jason is still gaping and looking for something to say that’s not a death joke or worse, the kid just sighs and bites the inside of his cheek.

“I miss him”, he whispers, like it’s a secret, or an admission of guilt.

And at least there’s an easy answer to this, Jason thinks.

“I know, kiddo. Me too.”

They both speak in a quiet tone, but their voices are steady. On the outside there’s no way for someone different from their family to actually see how deep the scar is, or how much it hurts.

All of this would be a lot more simple for both of them if Damian just cried. At least Jason would know what to do. He would get up from his wet spot on the grass and hug him. Not that he’s good with tears or hugs, and even less with children, but a crying child is something in the realm of things he comprehend. Like grieving. Like missing someone so much you can barely breathe.

It would be oh so nice if they could do something - this, at least - like a normal family. But they are not normal, and if they ever were Jason doesn’t remember it.

Part of the reason they’re all so fucked up about this must be because this is not something new anymore. They have lost a brother before. A father. A son. They have all lost comrades and friends and lovers. It’s part of the job. And at some point it didn’t… well, it didn’t stop the hurt, of course, because the hurt was always there, but. It stopped the surprise. Because how else could have it ended if not like this? And what’s the point of crying about something that was inevitable from the start?

So crying is not how they do things. They get angry, they fight, they train until their bodies are spent and sleep comes to them as a survival mechanism and nothing more. The only people in their life allowed to vocalize their pain are the criminals unfortunate enough to find themselves between a grieving vigilante and his denial while they just go on with the show.

Until, of course, they get stuck in a cemetery with a child still too young to know the rules of a game no one wants to explain.

Jason runs a hand through his hair, wishing for a beer. Damian just looks at him from under his lashes, mouth twisted in a pout. He knows what’s going to happen next.

“I need to call the others, Little D”, Jason warns him anyway.

Damian shrugs.

“I know.”

Jason sighs again.

Tim’s the first one to join them. He looks at Damian, still sitting on Dick’s gravestone, then at Jason, still leaning against Damian’s, and to his credit he just raises an eyebrow at them.

“Is this some sort of inside joke?”, he asks, staring down at them with his arm crossed over his chest. He doesn’t look tired or angry as he sounded before on the phone, in fact he looks rather amused, if Jason’s reading his posture correctly.

“Inside game, actually”, he answers then, making it up on the spot because why not. “You have to sit on a grave that is not yours.”

Damian blinks at him, then frowns uncertainly. Tim, bless his soul, just goes with it.

“Well, that should be easy”, he answers almost cheerly. “I don’t have a grave here.”

“Yet”, Damian replies, but if the child’s intent was to sound ominous or threatening he fails miserably. His own voice betrays him, giving his word a sad undertone. Tim must have detected it because he only scoffs back at him.

“Yeah, thanks for the memento mori, brat. I’ll take this one, then”, Tim says, sitting gingerly on Jason’s grave.

“Aww, I knew I was your favorite, Timbo”, Jason jokes, shifting position and circling his knees with his arms.

“Does that mean that Damian’s yours?”, Tim returns.

No need to ask Damian about his favorite brother. Jason notices he still grips his fingers around the edges of the marble stone beneath him, almost as challenging them to question his right to claim Dick’s grave for himself. Like they ever would.

“Well, I do feel like we have a lot of things in common”, he answers anyway. “Nice hair, a lifelong passion for knives, we both tried to kill you-”

“Very funny”, Tim grumbles.

“I consider myself offended by that”, Damian retorts at the same time. “My hair is definitely better than yours.”

Jason laughs, cocks his head to the side with an amused glare.

“My, my, are we already fashionably aware?”

Damian points his eyes at him like one would point guns.

“Well, someone in this family has to be.”

Tim snorts, and by doing so he automatically gives the win to Damian. The traitor.

Well aware of his victory, the child smirks smugly, and Jason can’t help but smile himself. He feels lighter and honestly relieved at how easily the banter still comes to them. Even now, even here.

The smile stays on Damian’s face for all of five seconds, then it crumbles down in a cringe, and that’s how Jason realizes that Bruce catched up with them. He follows Damian’s gaze and sure enough he can spot Batman’s unmistakable silhouette moving towards them. He looks back at Tim to give him a silent warning, but his brother is already focused on Bruce too, expression unreadable as always.

Jason turns his head again to watch Bruce slowly approaching them and frowns. He doesn’t know how he would react if Bruce and Damian started arguing in front of him, and he’s not eager to find out. So he waits for him to come closer and then he raises a hand and waves it in a show of no-hostility.

“Hello B.”, he greets him.

Bruce tilts his head in acknowledgment and just stares at their little circle from behind the cowl. He doesn’t look angry or ready to start a lecture, and Jason thanks god for small mercies.

“Can I sit down?”, he only asks after a moment.

“Sure. Just not on your own grave”, Jason answers.

“It’s tonight’s game”, Tim explains while Damian does his best to ignore all of them (an art he’s really well versed in, thanks to months of strenuous practice).

Bruce accepts it without so much as a raised eyebrow. He walks around them and looks at both of his parent’s graves before deciding to sit down in front of his father’s tombstone, if only because it’s the one closer to them or to follow some kind of messed up logic, Jason doesn’t know and he’s not gonna ask.

They ought to make a weird sight, though, Batman sitting in the mud, Red Robin crouched next to him, Jason in his civilian clothes sitting cross-legged in front of them, and Damian in his pajamas perched on a gravestone in the middle of their group. Jason wonders if he should take a photo for Alfred’s Bonding Moments Scrapbook. He’s ready to bet it wouldn’t even be the weirdest one in there.

“You know, I think we should have a grave for Timmy too”, he says out of the blue, because clearly Tim’s not going to talk first and Bruce and Damian are just as clearly trying to ignore each other’s presence like they weren’t the reason for this peculiar family meeting in the first place.

“Hey!”, Tim protests.

“...Jason”, Bruce sighs.

Jason smirks, crosses his arms behind his head and leans against the tombstone until he finds a comfortable position. Tim just narrows his eyes at him, already familiar enough with his quirks to know that this is not just a casual comment but it’s going to turn into a thing.

“I just don’t want him to feel, you know, cut off from the family or something”, Jason continues, keeping his tone as casual as he knows how.

“I’m perfectly fine without having a grave, thank you very much.”

“Ah, but we all already have a metaphorical grave waiting for us while we are alive. Some are just less metaphorical than others.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to keep mine totally metaphorical for as long as I can, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind a little. Like, I am this close to feel personally offended.”

“I’m not getting myself a grave just to indulge your issues, Jay.”

“Are you cold?”, Bruce asks, interrupting their conversations with a low murmur, and Jason and Tim immediately pause. The question is obviously directed to Damian, who for the last minutes has done nothing but watching his bare feet. Even now he doesn’t raise his head, doesn’t speak, doesn’t even look at them. Just barely nods.

“We could go home”, Bruce hums. Jason notices the obvious effort to put it as a suggestion, not as a request and definitely not as an order.

“It’s almost morning”, Tim adds gently, when Damian doesn’t answer. “I’m pretty sure Alfred’s making breakfast right now.”

Jason’s pretty sure that Tim’s going to be a good brother to Damian too, eventually. After all he learned how to be a brother from Dick, and Dick’s always been a good teacher. The kid just needs to give him a chance, and Tim just needs to take it. It’s a comforting thought. Not that he’s gonna share it.

“And I’m pretty sure that when you say Alfred’s making breakfast you’re just thinking about the coffee”, he replies instead.

“Jason, coffee is breakfast.”

“Uh, I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you but-”

“Damian?”, Bruce interrupts them again.

Finally, Damian looks up at them. And it’s not easy to read him, he looks still kind of surprised that Bruce’s not yelling at him, and he also looks guilty and uncertain and like he doesn’t want to leave the last connection he has with Dick, like there is a much bigger decision here to be taken, one they can not even start to comprehend.

Or maybe Jason’s just projecting and Damian’s only sleepy.

“Do you want to go home?”, Bruce asks softly.

Damian’s fingers linger on the marble, absently tracing its edges.

“...Yes”, he decides in the end.

He slides down from the gravestone and back on his feet.

Bruce stands up too, quickly followed by both Jason and Tim.

“Good”, Batman only says, then he walks towards Damian and offers him his hand.

Father and son look at each other for a second, and whatever their fight was about, it’s pretty clear that everything is forgiven and forgotten, even if no one’s gonna say sorry. Jason tries really hard not to be jealous about that.

“And I’m in favor of Drake getting a grave”, Damian adds in a chirp, taking his father’s hand.

Bruce hums noncommittally and scoops him up into his arms. Damian promptly wraps his arms around his neck, settling into his hold.

“And I’m in favor of giving you up for adoption”, Tim answers serenely, with no heat at all.

Jason just laughs and puts an arm around his brother’s shoulders as they follow their father home.

#jason todd #damian wayne #tim drake #bruce wayne #batfam #red robin #robin #red hood #nightwing #batdictionary #repost #my fic #shari writes

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loxare · 7 years

Text

Harm

Chapter 5 - Run In 2 and Invading Eggplant

More than a thousand miles from Bludhaven, Wally West was doing dishes. Linda was out doing a report on the new rail system, Jai and Iris were at a friend's and Wally had the day off. So he put on the news for background noise and made supper, a nice lasagna that was currently in the oven. (Well, three lasagnas.) He mostly focused on getting cheese off of the grater, only catching snippets from the TV.

“...and the mayor had this to say...”

“...a minor fire that could have been...”

“...still standing thanks to the Flash...”

“...other news, it appears Red Hood is back in...”

Wait, what was that?

“...more than two months of silence, criminals have started dying in Bludhaven, in methods matching some of Red Hood's previous victims. Red Hood, for our viewers who are unaware, is a vigilante of the worst kind, killing criminals instead of leaving them to the judicial system. It is unlikely he will leave Bludhaven, but it has happened once before.”

“Kind of makes you grateful to the Flash, doesn't it Karen?”

“It sure does Al.” The segment ended, but Wally had already left the kitchen.

He was halfway across the country when his phone alarm went off. Making a quick dash home, he pulled the lasagna out, left a note for Linda and the kids, then ran out again. Then ran back in to grab his costume.

Wally ran around Bludhaven for an hour before stopping to rest. He'd already refueled several times, at that hot dog vendor Iris had gone to last time she'd been here, but now his legs were tired. So he sat on a bench for a few minutes. He was just about to get up and start his search when his phone rang.

Iris's exuberant voice greeted him when he picked up the phone. “Hi Dad! I saw your note and I think I can help.”

“You're not allowed to run to Bludhaven.” She had tried, several times while Red Hood had been missing, but he'd always caught up to her. Wally knew his daughter was worried, but Bludhaven was dangerous and he didn't want her anywhere near it.

“I wasn't going to,” she said in that tone of voice she used that said she had totally been thinking about it, “but I'm in contact with a bunch of kids in Bludhaven, and they keep track of Red Hood. But first you need to tell me what you need to find him for.”

Wally shifted, uncomfortable. “I'm not sure. I haven't really thought about it.”

“Are you going to punch him or throw him in jail or leave him tied up for the cops?”

“No!” As bad a criminal as Red Hood was, he had saved Wally's daughter. And while he would take anyone else in regardless, there was something about Red Hood that made Wally feel like it wouldn't be worth it. “No, sweetie, I just wanted to talk to him.”

“Mmkay. I trust you. But if the other kids start freaking out, I'm not talking to you for a month.” Wally would take that threat seriously if he thought she could actually go through with it. There was a minute or two of silence, followed by keys clicking, followed by more silence.“The kids say he was last seen heading west on Blue Line North. Probably heading for the rail yards. He's going by rooftop, like the Bats do, so you'll find him up there.”

“Thanks Irey.” Wally smiled as his daughter signed off. He'd bring home some chili dogs for her.

He zipped off, running up a wall. At his speed, jumping the gaps between buildings was no sweat, and the roofs were almost as good a track as the street. He just had to be careful not to make too much noise. It wouldn't be good to startle the people trying to sleep in the rooms below him.

Wally had just passed the Littleneck bridge when he saw the distinctive red helmet, attached to the much less distinctive jacket and jeans. Red Hood was headed for the edge of a roof, jumping with a familiar flip and landing in a roll, using that momentum to get back on his feet and keep running. “Like the Bats do” indeed. Wally hadn't seen anyone outside the Gotham heroes who could do that so smoothly.

Racing ahead, he slowed down so Red Hood could see his approach. And see he did. He landed on another roof and came up in a defensive position, low to the ground with one fist raised in front of him, the other dropping to his thigh holster. Not touching it, Wally was pleased to see, but close enough to have the gun out in half a second if needed.

Not that it would ever come out fast enough if things got dicey. But Wally was really hoping that they wouldn't.

“I come in peace.” Coming to a stop with his hands raised and open was the best he could do to diffuse the tensions right now. “Seriously, I promise, I'm not here to take you to jail or anything. I just wanted to thank you.”

Red Hood twitched in surprise, but it was minuscule, controlled. “Thank me?” His voice was more than a little surprised.

“Yeah, for helping my daughter out that one time.” By this point, Wally was four steps away and Red Hood had nearly relaxed out of his crouch. Not fully relaxed; he would still be able to react if Wally pulled anything. “You bolted before I could thank you properly, so I'm doing it now.”

He let out a snort, which sounded weird through the voice modulation on his helmet. “What, and me being a mass murderer doesn't bother you?”

Wally crossed his arms, thinking. “It does, and next time I see you, I'll definitely take you in. But I promised my daughter I wouldn't, so today I'm not going to. I mean, I wasn't going to anyways. I really did track you down so I could thank you.”

“Huh.” With a quick shift in balance, Red Hood moved into a stance that looked completely at ease, but one Wally knew would still allow him to react fairly quickly. “Well, you're welcome. Gotta say though, you're the first person over the age of eighteen to thank me for anything in the past few years and it's really weirding me out.”

With a laugh, Wally leaned on an air conditioner. “Yeah, Iris said you didn't have many adult fans, even in Bludhaven.” Wally had been following that story, kind of. The months that Red Hood was gone – probably in the hospital – following Superman's uncharacteristic beat down, the violent crime rate had gone way up. The theories went flying, the crime rate was only up because Red Hood brought more trouble with him, like most capes did, that crooks were taking advantage of his absence to rule the Bludhaven underground, that the gang war that had started in the Projects had only happened because Red Hood killed the top brass in both and blamed the other. Which... that last one was probably true.

Red Hood snorted again. “Nope. They liked me for about a day and a half, and only to use as fodder against your Justice League.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. That particular media fallout had been brutal. “Sorry about that by the way. The media ripped you apart putting us back in the public's good books.”

“No problem. Not the first time I've been tossed under the bus. Oh, and by the way, you told me your daughter's name a minute ago. Isn't that supposed to be secret?”

Wally laughed again. “It would be, if she hadn't told you already. If I hadn't told you mine over the phone. I suppose I owe you another thank you.” For not spreading it around.

A careless shrug from Red Hood. “No reason to give you hero types more reason to come after me.” He didn't mention that if he did get arrested, he could use the information to bargain for his release, or get special treatment from other inmates. And if he did get arrested, but still kept quiet, jail would be hell on Earth. Every inmate would be gunning for that information. Wally didn't know what Red Hood would choose, but he would have to make sure the League had precautions put in place for both.

Because someday, someone would arrest Red Hood. Some hero would decide enough was enough and take him out. Or fail, bringing more heroes to Bludhaven to avenge his or her defeat. Honestly, Wally was surprised it hadn't happened already. “True. You're probably walking on thin enough ice in the community as is.”

Red Hood nodded, then gestured in the direction he'd been heading before Wally had stopped him. “Nice chat and all, but I was headed for something.” Wally gave him a look, which Red Hood noticed, of course. “Nothing lethal, probably, so don't get your tights in a bunch. There's a bunch of people in a warehouse planning on robbing a charity, so I'm going to break all their arms.”

Wally grumbled. “That's not much better.”

“Better than the charity getting robbed. The money from that goes to helping women in abusive situations, and it's one of the few clean ones in the city.” Red Hood shoved one hand in his pocket, the other lifting to wave goodbye. “If you're not going to stop me now, better take off. Some media dog might paint you as complicit otherwise.”

It was tempting, to run up and stop him. But he had promised Iris. And Red Hood said he wasn't going to kill anyone. Still. “Maybe only break one arm each?”

“We'll see Flash. Run along home before your daughter comes looking for you.”

Two days later, when Wally caved and looked up the arrest report, he spit out his coffee. Half of the potential charity robbers had both of their arms broken. The other half, one each.

Jason's night had been going pretty good. Right up until he saw some kid try and stop a mugging. With any other age group, he would be applauding the citizen for taking initiative. Good for them! But for whatever reason, the kids in this city thought it was a good idea to copy him and try and bust drug rings. He really needed to have a talk with them about that. And if that talk made him a hypocrite, well, at least he wasn’t a hypocrite with a bunch of dead kids on his hands.

For now though, he needed to stop this blonde kid from getting stabbed. Again.

He landed on one of the thugs, eliciting a startled “Shit! Fuck!” from the blonde girl. The man who had been getting mugged was busy cowering in the corner and probably couldn't be startled if Jason tried. He had to admit though, the girl was pretty good. Even with a deep cut in her shoulder, she was taking out thugs like it was her job. But her fighting style was more city dojo and less Bat-trained, so she was probably just some kid.

Finally, all of the thugs were lying on the floor groaning. The mugging victim had scarpered a while ago, so it was just the two of them standing. Jason was looking through his belt, and the girl was holding her arm and looking awkward. “Well. This was fun. I should probably g-”

“Crap.” Jason looked up at the girl. “Sorry, I forgot to restock my first aid stuff.” He crossed his arms as he thought. He'd been planning on taking the girl to a well lit rooftop somewhere, but without his first aid, that was not an option.

“No, really, I could just go.” She was from Gotham. Lower Gotham, judging from her accent. It was nice to hear again.

Jason frowned and walked a bit closer. “You have a hole in your shoulder. And trust me, those bleed a lot.” He sighed. “Look, if I take you back to my place to patch you up, are you going to rat me out to the cops? Because I just moved in and I like it.”

She snorted. “Pft. No. But really, I'm fine.”

Jason pulled off his helmet so she could see him raise an eyebrow at her. “The nearest hospital is a half hour walk, and trust me, you'll bleed out long before then. It's a five minute swing to my place, so come on. I promise I won't assault you if that's what you're worried about.” It was a legitimate concern, and if he thought that was the problem, he would just go to his apartment and bring stuff back. But she hadn't reacted when he'd moved closer, so he'd rather not risk her bleeding out while she waited. Still, he held out his hand and waited for her to take it. When she did, he pulled her in close and told her to hold on tight.

Five minutes later, they were at his apartment. He dropped her on the sofa – leather and black, so blood wiped off and didn't stain – then went to the fridge for juice. “Drink that, you'll need the fluids,” he said as he grabbed his medkit from behind the couch. Not a good idea to keep it too far away, especially when he couldn't find the energy to walk to the bathroom and back. The girl had already peeled off her coat. Luckily, she was wearing a tank top, so she didn't have to take off her shirt as well.

“So,” he ventured as he injected some pain killers into her arm, “what's your name?”

She seemed a little reluctant to answer, but eventually she said, “Steph. Stephanie Brown. What's yours?” Something about the name sounded familiar.

Jason just smiled, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the antiseptic. “Red Hood. But you can call me Red.”

Steph sat quietly for a few minutes while Jason worked. And while he worked, he started thinking up all the fun ways he was going to utterly destroy whoever had hurt this girl. She had almost as many scars as he did, and it looked like they were the result of torture. Recent too. Not much more than a year, year and a half.

“Is it true you were the second Robin?” She asked finally, breaking into his plans. “I mean, it's cool if you don't want to tell me.”

Jason tugged the last stitch through and tied off. “Yup. In the flesh.” He grabbed some bandages from his kit and started wrapping her injury.

“Hm.” She waited while he secured the bandages, using the excess as a sling. “I'm not here for long, just visiting for the weekend. Not really how I planned to spend it.”

“Yeah, getting stabbed will normally knock out your weekend plans.” He sat back, pulling her coat back on and buttoning it over top of her arm. “That's what happens when you try and fight crime without being ready though. I really need to sit you kids down and have a chat with you.” Jason sighed. The Red Kids, the ones who tried to copy him, do what he did, normally scattered when he jumped down. They knew he didn't want them fighting, but they refused to listen to his reasons why. “Oh well. Problems for another day. Do you have my number?”

She shook her head, so he grabbed a card from his belt and handed it over. Then she grabbed a pencil and his note paper from the coffee table and wrote her number down on it as well. “So you can call me. And make sure you do call me. I'm from Gotham, I know how you people work.”

Jason snorted. “Sure thing.” If it was an emergency.

Steph just rolled her eyes and stood up, pulling on her coat as she did. “Are you going to take me back down, or do I have to take the stairs?”

“No, the stairs are being renovated. I'll take you down.”

He put her down on the ground and then followed from the rooftops to make sure she got home safe. And then he went home and plugged in his flash drive for the first time since the hospital.

AN: Sorry this took so long! For more Flashes in Bludhaven, this chapter is your friend.

Oh hey, it’s that flash drive again. Weird. I wonder what he’s looking up on there? Mystery.

Read and enjoy you wonderful people! Loxie out!

#Loxie's fics #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Don't read the tags they have spoilers #Not too many spoilers #but read the chapter first please #Steph Brown #Wally West #Flash #Spoiler #Jay #Steph

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thorias · 7 years

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Random thoughts watching Riverdale episode 6

First thing we see is Betty and Polly as kids. There goes the Polly-is-Betty’s-split-personality theory, I guess. It was a long shot anyway.

Alice is the first character to draw attention to how bizarre Jughead’s name is. Nice try, Alice, but I still hate you.

Delivering on all the build up Polly has had is going to be tough. I’m thinking about what Polly could be like and imagining everything from Norma Bates to Patrick Bateman.

I think a big reason why the story about Archie and his music doesn’t feel terribly compelling is because it’s too reminiscent of the comics, whereas everything and everyone else has been so heavily reimagined. We’ve got this Polly story and how it all connects to the murder mystery and it’s pretty fascinating stuff, but then we cut over to Archie having stage fright in a variety show, and it’s not bad, but I just want them to go back to the murder mystery because this part seems so unimportant by comparison. As much as I disliked the Grundy plot, it was the only thing Archie had that was as twisted as the other big plots on the show. Without it, he’s rather boring right now.

Archie hallucinating people wearing wolf masks gets my attention, but Betty’s already got the ‘mentally unbalanced’ storyline wired and he’s got a long way to go to catch up to her.

Reggie heckles Archie after Archie let him have the captain’s job on the football team last week. Because Reggie is a dick.

Archie asking Val to sing with him at the show seems like a reasonable request and her excuse doesn’t really hold water. She “can’t step out on the Pussycats?” He’s not asking you too, sweety. If your band is already performing at the show, fine. Is there any reason you can’t do both? I wouldn’t put it passed Josie to try to put a stop to that, but Josie seemed cool with Archie after he helped them with that song, so where’s the issue here?

Polly’s “group home” sounds less like a hospital for the mentally ill and more like a puritanical reformed school. Yeah, that seems like a place Alice Cooper would send her daughter to.

Veronica ‘ex machina’ Lodge is a thing now. I was trying to come up with a nickname for her, so how nice of her to do the work for me.

Thirty seconds into a Pussycats practice session and it seems that Josie is huge a control freak. Weird that Josie is the one credited as a regular cast member, yet Val is the one emerging as the more likable character and has had more screen time at this point too.

Josie says Val can sing with Pussycats or Archie, but not both. Apparently, Archie helping the band with that song meant nothing to her. First Reggie and now Josie -- the short term memory loss seems to be spreading. I’m dangerously close to feeling bad for Archie here.

The look on Josie’s face has me cheering Val for calling her bluff and walking out.

Veronica stumbling upon her mom making out with Archie’s dad has me torn. On the one hand, it’s so awkward, I can’t look away. On the other, the kid in me who read the comics is fashioning a crude crucifix and waving it around in utter horror that likely mirrors Veronica’s.

Archie is surprisingly cool with his dad potentially dating Hermione. Yeah, Archie is suddenly the well-adjusted one. How did that happen?

Wait a minute. Val writes the Pussycats’ songs? Then maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to practically kick her out of the band, Josie! Dumbass.

So Josie was stressing because her big shot musician dad is taking time out of his busy schedule to come visit and see the show, but if it sucks, her mom will get blamed for it? FFS, that’s ANOTHER kid with insane parents! I’m starting to think the luckiest ones on this show might be the kids being brought up by only one adult. Archie, Veronica and Kevin have no idea how fortunate they are.

Josie certainly makes a lot more sense now that I’ve seen her with her mom. It’s crazy how so many of the problems the kids on this show have can be directly blamed on the people raising them.

“What about dad?” Veronica asks her mom, as if her dad being in prison and causing his wife to become a social pariah didn’t likely cause the end of their marriage already. Ronnie didn’t really think they were going to work things out, did she?

Archie is quick to swap Veronica out for Val as his singing partner, which is kind of a dick move. But then Veronica fires back by being a jerk about his dad and her mom kissing. Archie then stumbles onto the topic of his parents being separated and Hiram’s biggest romantic concern these days being to make sure he doesn’t drop the soap in the shower. So I guess the upshot of this scene is that they’re both being assholes and Val is the only nice one simply because she was the only person smart enough to keep her mouth shut.

“Garden of Deliverance?” Yeah, that doesn’t conjure up any horror imagery at all. Are we adding religious thriller tropes to the mix now?

At least Alice didn’t force an abortion on Polly, but sending your child to mental institution/religious-themed prison seems pretty damn cruel. Then again, having seen what lunatics Cheryl’s parents are, maybe Alice had the right idea by taking steps to make sure they don’t find out that Polly is carrying Jason’s progeny. At this point, I wouldn’t put it passed Mrs. Blossom to try to cut Junior out of Polly’s belly with a spork.

I might believe that Jason only broke up with Polly because his parents forced him too, but the idilic future Polly said they had in store for them sounds downright psychotic. I knew people back in high school who became parents at this age and... let’s just say that it working out as perfectly as Polly describes is pretty freaking unlikely.

Polly not being taken away until July 4th feels a bit awkward. I was under the impression that she’d been gone longer than that. But her being dragged into a van against her will isn’t exactly helping with the allusions to Polly basically being a prisoner here.

In the blink of an eye, Polly turns the crazy up to eleven and it’s a little disturbing. Yeah, she definitely needs to be in a hospital, but I’m not entirely sure that’s what this place is.

First Josie gets pissed at Val for singing (god forbid someone in a band try to do that) and now she’s pissed at Veronica for NOT signing? This girl has no idea what she wants.

Veronica is upset that she hasn’t seen her dad in three months. Man, that really makes you think. So many of the parents on this show are out of their damn minds, but they still get to walk around free, so what exactly did Hiram do that was bad enough to land him in prison? Cannibalism? Murder/suicide cult? I’m guessing it was a wee bit more extreme than embezzlement or whatever the excuse they gave us in the pilot was.

Archie and Val actually sound good together. See, Archie? This is what a healthy relationship with a female looks like.

Alice was definitely being cruel by not telling Polly that Jason was dead, but considering how quickly Polly’s mental stability just shattered like stale potato chips, keeping her in the dark may have been the lesser of two evils.

Fred, Hermione, Archie, Josie, Josie’s control freak mom and her arrogant asshole dad are all having dinner and the tension is thick enough to kill a horse. Should they just call for an ambulance now or wait for someone to draw blood first?

Betty straight up asks her dad if he killed Jason. I’m surprised they’re playing that card this early, but I guess red herrings aren’t meant to last long.

Oh shit! Don’t use the “C” word around Betty! Even at the best of times, she’s one bad day away from breaking out that Darth Betty wig and going to town on this whole cast with a meat cleaver. Why tempt fate?

I wouldn’t put it passed Josie’s parents to not give Archie’s dad the contract simply out of spite for his son luring Val away from Josie’s band. That’s not the reason they give him, but that’s probably what it’s really about. At any rate, those two are world class pricks for coming to dinner with him and letting him go through that whole presentation just to tell him that the contract was already given to someone else.

Hermione is trying to get Fred the contract, which is self-serving, but also a really nice thing to do considering the way Hiram wanted to go was undoubtedly a lot shadier, but Veronica refuses to put her signature on the thing because she doesn’t like her mom dating someone. This is one of those rare occasions in Riverdale when the parent is actually more likable than the kid. I get that Veronica is upset about this, but seeing as her dad has most likely spent the last several months behind bars being someone’s bitch, maybe she should give her mom a break.

Archie tells Val she should perform with the Pussycats. I think he’s trying to do the right thing here, but doesn’t this mean that he just dicked with Veronica a second time since she just replaced Val in the Pussycats and Val coming back will make her a fifth wheel?

“They’re parents. They’re all crazy.” On this show? Yeah. Truer words have never been spoken in Riverdale.

JUGHEAD KISSES BETTY?!?! WTF IS GOING ON?!?! THE ONLY WAY THIS HAPPENS IS IF HE’S IMAGINING A HAMBURGER WHERE HER FACE SHOULD BE!! FUCK THIS!! THESE WRITERS KNOW NOTHING!!

The Pussycats sing a cover of some disco song at the variety show. Wasn’t them not doing other people’s songs a big thing for them? I’m pretty sure there was a line in the pilot about that.

Poor Veronica looks like she feels really out of place onstage with the Pussycats and I feel bad for her. Sure, she’s been a jerk at times in this episode, but she’s been jerked around by other people just as much.

The Pussycats give a great performance which Josie’s musical snob dad leaves in the middle of. Because Josie’s dad is a jackass.

Archie and Veronica apologizing to each other was sweet. Something I’m noticing with Grundy gone now is that, while Archie continues to screw up pretty regularly, his mistakes are becoming less severe and he’s getting quicker at trying to fix them.

Archie has to follow the Pussycats on top of battling stage fright. They really threw this poor schmuck into the deep end head first, didn’t they? Did Reggie choose the order of these acts by any chance?

Awww, Betty feels bad that she’s missing Archie’s song. This girl is so pure that she has me absolutely dreading her inevitable psychotic episode. Crazy does seem to run in her family after all.

Archie does really well and gets a standing ovation. Because no matter how many times he screws up, I guess it wouldn’t be Riverdale if everyone in town wasn’t in love with this guy. But, hey, he had a personal problem that didn’t involve statutory rape and he overcame it. I call that progress.

So what was that stuff with the wolf masks all about?

How long is Veronica going to be passive aggressively giving her mom shit for this thing with Fred Andrews? I’d tell her to be realistic about the chances of her parents getting back together, but this is apparently some wacko, bizarro world, parallel universe where Jughead likes girls, so clearly the writers have checked realism at the door.

Polly escaping the mental hospital (or whatever it is we’re calling that place) seriously plays like the beginning of a slasher flick. But she jumped out of a second or third story window, heavily pregnant. How far could she possibly have gotten?

My newest theory is that Polly killed Jason and then convinced herself that it never happened because, you know, she's fucking nuts.

#archie andrews #betty cooper #polly cooper #josie and the pussycats #1x06 #faster pussycats kill kill #riverdale

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lady-divine-writes · 7 years

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Klaine Advent Drabble and Bitchmas one-shot “Relinquished Opportunities” (Rated NC17)

While Blaine and Jeff work late, Kurt and Nick are in Kurt's studio doing Jell-O shots and discussing "serious issues". But when Blaine returns, Kurt tells Blaine to make love to him, leaving Blaine to make the decision that's in both their best interests. (1785 words)

I'm really proud of this scene for one very important reason - it shows Kurt get into a situation where he makes a slightly irresponsible call, and Blaine takes care of him. For people who love to read D/s fic, this is really important because it illustrates some things that people tend to forget, and that’s that Dominants are human beings who sometimes make mistakes, and submissives are strong people with minds of their own and the ability to make judgment calls without the help of their Dom/mes. Both Kurt and Blaine are strong individuals who also find strength in one another. They are in love, and they are human. Those are all important things to remember about D/s. Written for my Take Me Over series, but can be read alone. Written in part for the Klaine Advent Drabble prompt opportunity, and @lilinas's Bitchmas prompt 'naughty'.

Dom Kurt, sub Blaine. Warning for drunkenness. With a touch of Niff.

Read on AO3.

“Okay, okay, okay, we’ve covered whips …

“… chains …”

“… and underwear. So since we’ve answered all of the serious questions, what should we talk about now?” Nick asked, clumsily reaching for the Jell-O shot closest to him. His fingers danced around the tray as he zeroed in on the blurry shot. As soon as his skin brushed plastic, he grabbed it as if it would scurry off. He lifted the little plastic cup of orange gelatin to his lips and sucked it into his mouth like an oyster from The Four Seasons.

Kurt stared wide-eyed, as if amazed by Nick’s Jell-O shot eating prowess, then barked out the word, “Butts.” A pause later, he laughed out loud, rolling on the floor like a giddy kindergartner.

Nick raised an unimpressed eyebrow at his usually more sophisticated mentor, but then burst out laughing, too. In the midst of their guffawing, Nick grabbed another shot, this time purple. He slurped it out of the cup and swallowed it in one go, but the noise he made in the process made Kurt laugh so hard, his entire face went a shade of red to rival the paint on the walls.

“Okay, but whose butts are we gonna be talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt said, catching his breath. He tried to sit up, but the room started to spin, so he decided to shimmy over to Nick and rest his head on his friend’s thigh. “Who do we know who’s got a great ass? I mean, one really worth talking about?”

Nick struggled to think, his brain thick with technicolored fog. “Brad Pitt?”

Kurt made a face. “You know, to be honest, I’ve never really been much of a Brad Pitt fan. I’m more of a Robert Downey, Jr. kind of guy.”

“Nicccce,” Nick said, prolonging the consonant with a grin and a nod … but only one since moving his head in any way proved to be a bad idea. “Definitely a nice set of buns there. How about Leonardo DiCaprio?”

Kurt bobbed his head in lukewarm agreement. “I guess so. But I don’t think I’ve seen him from behind lately. What was the last movie he was in where you got a really good shot of his glutes? He can’t just ride his Romeo and Juliet laurels his entire life.”

“You have a point there,” Nick said. “But those were some fine laurels.”

“Yes.” Kurt looked up at his friends with unfocused eyes. “Yes, they were.”

“So, are we looking for, like … Ryan Reynolds?”

“Ah-ha!” Kurt points enthusiastically. “There you go! Now you’re getting it! Hugh Jackman.”

“Oh! Don’t forget Jason Momoa. Phew!” Nick fanned himself, sighing dramatically. “That Justice League Trailer with him as Aquaman had me wet.”

“Damn it!” Kurt exclaimed. “Where have I been? He should have been first on the list! Just … you know … right up there.” Kurt motioned with grabby hands, pushing Jason Momoa’s invisible tush up to the top.

“Nu-uh,” Nick said with a far-off look and a loopy grin. “Do you know who should have been first on the list?”

Kurt looked at Nick curiously. “Who?”

“Jeff.”

“Mmm,” Kurt hummed. “And Blaine. But we didn’t want to play home field advantage,” he added to quell the guilt that was killing his buzz. “Need to give other players their shot at bat.”

“Good call,” Nick said, pretty sure that Kurt was mangling his analogies, but he couldn’t care less. “Good call.”

“But God, Blaine’s got the greatest ass,” Kurt remarked, biting his lower lip to keep from openly salivating.

“Yes, he does have a great ass,” Nick agreed. “He’s been working on it his entire life. You are soooo lucky you get to tap that.”

“And your man,” Kurt wedged in. “Not that I’ve been looking, mind you, but he looks like he can do some serious thrusting. He was a dancer.”

“Still is if you ask him nicely,” Nick slurred. “But so’s your man.”

“True.” Kurt grinned bright and goofy picturing the man who slept beside him night after night, thinking about how Goddamned lucky he was. “But yours was like … a dancer dancer. A professional dancer. He lived, ate, and breathed it, didn’t he? Of course, he did. You can tell just by looking at him.”

“Yeah.” The two men fell silent at the same time, staring off into the distance, each with their own image of Blaine or Jeff’s ass playing in their minds. Nick idly reached for another shot, but his hand met with empty space on the tray where several rows of plastic cups used to be. Nick looked at the tray, squinting to count up how many shots were left. When he couldn’t remember which number came after ten, he stopped counting. “Did you want another shot? They’re going fast.”

“No,” Kurt said, waving his offer away, “thank you, but, I don’t wanna get drunk.”

“Kurt,” Nick said, voice strained as he tried not to laugh, “I think you’re already drunk.”

Kurt rolled his head to look at Nick and tut, but laughed when the world swayed left before his eyes. “Yeah! I think you’re right!”

A knock on the door interrupted Kurt and Nick’s giggle fest, but they couldn’t stop. And Kurt didn’t want to. Dave and Adam were watching the kids specifically so Kurt could have this night of stress relief with his best friend while Blaine and Jeff worked late, so he refused to feel guilty for taking advantage of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he got good and properly drunk – probably way before the kids were born, if he ever did. He got to be Mr. Strict and Severe the majority of the time.

He deserved this one night to be stupid and carefree.

The door swung open and a head peeked in, smiling mouth and bright hazel eyes popping open in surprise at the sight of the two men, drunk as skunks, tangled together on the floor.

“Uh … hey guys. How are you doin’?” Blaine opened the door wider to let Jeff in, stifling a snicker when Jeff stopped short in the doorway.

“Hey!” Nick and Kurt cheered from their pile on the floor.

“You’re just in time,” Kurt said, trying to stand up and failing incredibly. “There’s a handful of shots left. You guys can catch up.”

“I wish I could,” Jeff said, swooping in to pick up his boyfriend, who didn’t even make an attempt to move, “but I’ve gotta drive.”

“No, you don’t,” Kurt argued, grabbing for Nick’s hand and trying to steal him back as Jeff lifted him into the air. “You guys can sleep in here. We’ve got plenty of room.”

“Jeff’s got an early morning,” Blaine explained, catching Kurt before he hit the floor too hard.

“Party pooper.” Kurt frowned, but he couldn’t keep it up for all of his giggling. “See you guys later.”

“See ya! Thanks for the party,” Nick called, wrapping his arms around Jeff’s neck and surrendering to being carried off like a damsel in a silent movie.

Blaine followed. “Drive safely,” he said, then shut and locked the door behind them.

“Go ahead and have a shot,” Kurt said when Blaine returned. “Nick bought the vodka. It’s apparently really expensive.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Blaine said with an amused shake of his head. He could put it on Nick’s shoulders for being a bad influence, but Blaine only had himself to blame. He’d introduced the two men. How was he supposed to know the effect they’d have on one another? “Tell you what - let’s sleep out here tonight so the kids don’t have to see you wasted. Hmm?”

Kurt chuckled deviously. “That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Anderson.”

Blaine felt a chill when Kurt called him that, and he knew that Kurt had something other than sleep in mind. He did the same as Jeff, lifting Kurt in his arms bridal style, and carried him off to his futon. Kurt smirked at Blaine, his beautiful and obedient sub. Kurt’s hands rose to Blaine’s shoulders, but instead of looping them around the back of Blaine’s neck, he started unbuttoning his collar.

“Make love to me,” Kurt said, part sounding like a command, which Blaine would normally drop to his knees to obey, but part sounding like a plea, from a man to his lover. Because that was what they’d always been to one another, aside from Dom and sub. Lovers. But regardless of their positions, or who had the authority, they both had a responsibility to one another, and that responsibility mattered most, above all other things.

And for that reason, Blaine said, “I can’t.”

Kurt snickered, his brow wrinkling once he realized Blaine was serious. “What? What do you mean you can’t? Why not?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“We’ve done it drunk before.”

“That was different.”

“How was that different?”

“We got drunk together,” Blaine explained gently, “but we had decided sober that we were going to have sex. You can’t consent if you’re drunk.” Blaine leaned forward to run his nose over Kurt’s. “You taught me that.”

“Come on, Blaine,” Kurt whined. “I promise it’ll be fine. I know all the safewords.” Kurt tittered, and then he snorted. Blaine was tempted to laugh, but he needed to be serious. He needed to make the Dom side of Kurt’s brain listen. Blaine knew Kurt. Drunk or sober, Blaine knew he’d come around.

“Look, if you want me to have sex with you while you’re drunk and I’m not, we’ll hash out the details when you’re sober, and work from there. We’ll write them out. We’ll make rules. Add them to the contract like we always do. But not until then.”

Kurt went quiet, assessing his sub while Blaine put him down on his futon and started unlacing his shoes.

“You’re really turning me down?” Kurt asked. There was an insecurity in Kurt’s voice that drove hooks into Blaine. It almost reeled him in. Blaine had heard that tone in his own voice, and when it was there, Kurt always took care of him. Blaine had to do the same.

“I’m really turning you down,” Blaine said.

Kurt sniffed, and Blaine braced himself for whatever Kurt’s Dominant side might dish out. But no sooner did Kurt sniff then he smiled, tenderly putting a hand to his sub’s cheek. “You’re a good man, Blaine Anderson.”

“And so are you, Kurt Hummel.” Blaine, kneeling at Kurt’s feet, took his Dom’s hand and kissed his wrist. “The best. So I’m not going to risk losing you.”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Kurt said, resting his cheek on Blaine’s curls. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

#klaineadvent #Bitchmas #lilinas #D/s #Frankie writes

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