Harley Quinn and Red Hood out on the town

Harley Quinn and Red Hood were seen at several bars over the last few days, drinking until one of them, usually Harley Quinn, blacked out.

Mod Rusty, who was at one of these bars, asked what they were doing and was told by Harley Quinn, quote, "We're b****ing about the Joker and the Bat. [Red Hood] ain't legal but he's the best drinking partner I've had since Brucie dropped out."

This is fascinating gossip and we're sure this is going to cause tabloids for weeks.

Please drink responsibility.

All The Small Things...That Show How Incredibly Pissed She Is

Batboys x Reader HC/Imagine

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Here's some humor for y'all at the end of the semester. Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

Dick wasn’t a fool. He might seem like that to some people, certainly anal-retentive supervillains and seasoned superheroes who weren’t particularly impressed by him, but even if he paraded a bit of thick-headedness (Batman’s influence) every now and then, Dick wasn’t a fool. And he sure as hell realized when she was angry at him.

Well, angry wasn’t the particular word. She wasn’t angry, and honestly, in the entire year they’d been dating, he’d yet to see what would even made her fume. But sure as shit, if she didn’t get annoyed at things, and right now, he knew it was at him. And really, the only reason he did realize it was because she didn’t stick a note in the thigh pocket of his suit before he left on patrol.

It was something foolish, she’d said when he came home and asked her about it the first time she did it. A simple little folded paper, the same kind that hung on their refrigerator for the grocery list. All it had said was, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee—good luck out there, Dickie!”. When he found it, he about busted himself at the seams from laughing so hard, but at the same time, he found it endearing that she had left it for him to find. That had been on a Friday night and every day of the week leading up to it, she put a piece of candy in his pocket, saving Fridays for the little notes. And this Friday he didn’t find a note—he knew she wouldn’t forget, and that was all the clue he needed that she wasn’t happy about something.

And so, to remedy it, he picked up a bottle of red wine and a dozen red roses—sue him he’s a romantic—ready to do whatever she wanted to fix what he’d messed up.

Jason:

He didn’t hate the color pink, but he didn’t wear it unless it was a particular occasion, or unless the shirt he liked was pink. Most of Jason’s outwear wardrobe consisted of black and blue jeans, dark and white shirts, combat boots, and leather jackets. His outfits screamed, “I’m the epitome of ‘Bad-Boy’.” And most of his leather jackets were dark, so he typically wore white or light gray shirts, so it didn’t blend.

They shared chores in the house—he cooked most nights, and she did laundry; they both cleaned the apartment. Jason looked in the dryer for a white shirt because it was white’s day the night before and found a whole load of white shirts that’d been dyed pink. Of course, at first, he thought it perhaps an innocent mistake, but when he pulled the load out and found a single red sock, Jason knew he was in the doghouse.

He pulled on a baby pink shirt and grimaced at how tight it felt on his body—so she was really mad because she must’ve washed these in hot water because they’d shrunk two sizes. The thought of asking what she was mad about crossed his mind, but he figured he’d be better off figuring it out on his own and fixing it rather than having her tell him.

Jason was a grown man; he could figure it out himself—the only bad thing was that Jason, in all his glory, was still a man—and boy did he have trouble telling what his lady was mad about sometimes. Ice-cream, he figured. Dutch Chocolate Ice-cream and bourbon was her go to when she was upset—hopefully, she wouldn’t throw his underwear in the wash before he got back from the store.

Tim:

He’d long grown used to being stared at, considering the fact that when he was a young child, and an academic prodigy at that, people liked to examine him like he was a lab rat. So, at first, her way of communicating that she wasn’t pleased with his course didn’t occur to him. Of course, when he finally turned his attention from his laptop screen and caught her cocked eyebrow and unimpressed look, Tim couldn’t stop the flush of crimson that split over the bridge of his nose as he babbled an apology.

She usually responded with a grunt of recognition, but it was anything but amused or interested. And he’d flash that dopey grin and kiss her knuckles until her eyes filled with humor rather than annoyance. And then he’d go back to his laptop and the process would start all over again when he finally realized she was boring holes in the side of his head.

The only time she wanted to prove she was mad at him was when she’d pull out her phone and do those stupid, “Which Member Of The Batfamily Are You?” and she’d do everything in her power to not get “Red Robin”, typically getting “Red Hood” because she knew it’d make his jealously bubble in his chest.

And then Tim would slam his laptop shut and toss her phone off the bed with it and yank her down onto his bed, coiling his arms and legs around her like a cage, while she giggled relentlessly and teased him about being “green with envy”.

So really, while it usually started with her being mad, it became a “How Much Can We Annoy The Other Before We Blow?” game—she was winning so far…much to his dismay…and love.

Bruce:

His wife was outspoken and independent, not ever once requiring help with any task. If she couldn’t figure it out herself, she’d cut her own foot off before asking him to do it for her, because she knew he took that little pride in doing what she couldn’t. Their marriage was built on a foundation of love, for each other, and for their family. But that third peg was absolutely competition, and by God they were gonna prove who was the winner before they both died of old age.

So, whenever she got mad at him for anything, it would be obvious that she would announce it—but oh no, see, when she got mad, she was passive aggressive about it and she waited for Batman to figure it out. And she typically showed her annoyance through clothing.

Her favorite way to piss Bruce off was to wear an emerald green t-shirt around the house that said, “My favorite superheroes wear green!” and the stupid graphic tee had Green Lantern and Green Arrow symbols all over it. And that sadisti—lovely witch did everything in her power to make him look at it—at her.

And Bruce knew her plan of showing her irritation was working because that maddeni—gorgeous smirk always crossed her lips when he glared—stared at her. He still didn’t know what she was mad about though. Her purpose only served to show she was upset with him—so much for the World’s Greatest Detective.

Unfortunately, Bruce knew the only way to appease her would be to submit to her the entire night and let her know that she was now in the lead for their competition. Darn…and he’d just leveled the score too, and now she was one ahead…again.

Sugar & Spice part 3

Summary: You make a terrible joke on national television and somehow Tim is the one suffering.  a/n: I am so sorry for the late update. Life happened and so did my short attention span.  warnings: jokes about kinks but nothing explicit and second hand embarrassment.

Masterlist

Roman: What do you think about Slade? Reader: I refuse to believe he's a baker. He has to be some kind of sadistic drill sergeant. Kon in the back: Bet you he moonlights as a professional dom Reader: *cackles on camera* Reader: *covers mouth*Oh my god, can we please do another take? Slade is going to kill me. 

Tim is laughing on the phone as he watches the clip. He hears your frustrated breath as you flail to tell him to shut up. Both you and Kon had called him as soon as the video hit a million likes.

Tim scrolls through the comments section that mostly ranged from ‘yes daddy’ to stiff peak jokes with smatterings of comments talking about how adorable your laugh was. The wind in his chest rises with the validation because yeah, you are stupidly adorable. 

Kon rewinds the video for the ninth time. You bleat, pleading for him to stop. Bart’s just egging him on by saying he missed something while Cassie just revels in your misery while eating popcorn.

“What if my mom sees?!” You say, shifting your arms over your head like you’re in some kind of demented earthquake drill. 

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Kon bats back, rewinding the video yet again. 

You look into the camera. Your brain pauses before accepting that Kon is indeed evil.“Whyyyyyy????” 

“Because my brother found it so you have to suffer too,” Kon says with the same flair as a villain speech.

“Your honor, I motion for Conner Kent  to be booted off the server.” 

“Motion denied.” Cassie says with delight. “Oh wait. Hey Kon, says here you’ve got a daddy kink.”

“I do not!”

“He does wear a lot of leather….”

“Who do you think posted it?” Bart asks through a mouthful of doritos. 

Cassie waves her hand nonchalantly.“Sionis probably. It’s good publicity.”

“Is it though?” Tim asks, hiking up a brow. 

“Dunno Tim, you tell us. You’re (y/n)’s number one simp.”

Tim flushes. “Am no-”

“Can we prove it?” You cut in hopefully.

Tim turns to you, brow not dipping down.“And do what?”

“Sue him for emotional damages.”

“Listen, if you find a lawyer who’ll take the case-”

“What’s a dom?” squeaks a tiny voice.  

Tim’s heart rate comes crashing down. He needs to find Bruce. No, Bruce is gonna kill him but he’s not equipped to deal with wherever this conversation is going.  Kon falls out of his chair laughing; meanwhile, Tim hears snickers behind him only to find Jason with a shit-eating grin.

Tim looks down to meet vibrant blue eyes attached to a gremlin. An adorable gremlin but a gremlin nonetheless. This was going to be painful. 

“Hey, buddy, what’s up?” Tim asks, picking Dick up and settling him on his hip like the way he’s seen Damian and Bruce doing. 

“What’s a dom?” Dick repeats, forehead scrunched. 

Tim would like to file with whatever body of government takes requests for evaporation. 

You make an inhuman noise. Dick perks up at the noise, a dimpled smile making its way to his features. He knows he’s getting something good or, at least, the person making the noise won’t refuse any of his requests. 

Why does Bruce insist on adopting the most despicable children?

“Who’s the pipsqueak? And please feel free to answer between now and when (Y/n) decides that I don’t need eardrums anymore,” Cassie teases.

You make another sound but this one sounds like a squawking noise. 

“Tim, can I show them my salamander collection?”

At least, he’s off the topic of doms. 

“Dickie, weren’t you asking about doms though? Weren’t you curious about what a daddy kink was?” Another voice beside Tim says. Beside him, Jason snatches a piece of chocolate. His little nose scrunches up from the bitter taste.  

Tim wonders if he can unadopt Jason behind Bruce’s back. He’s sure he can convince Damian to help him. 

“Who’s this one?” You ask, trying not to squeak. 

Jason looks like a deer in headlights as he tries desperately to shrink into his oversized hoodie. Something evil curls inside Tim.

Tim lifts Jason onto one of the high chairs so you could all see him more clearly. Jason’s little freckled face lights up like a Jack-o-Lantern. “These are my little brothers: Dick-” Tim ruffles Dick’s hair ”- and Jason.” 

“I will bite you if you touch my hair.” Jason hisses.  Kon snorts. “Little man has priorities.”

“It’s not like your hair gel brain would let us touch your hair either.” Cassie snickers.

“My hair is naturally like this!”

“Sure and Cassie has naturally black hair. It is definitely not dyed.” Barts says with a roll of his eyes.

“How did you know?!”

“Roots,” you answer, pointing to your own scalp. “Dunno how Bart’s short ass managed to see it though.”

Jason frowns, crossing his arms. “How come they’re allowed to swear and I have to pay the swear jar?”

You slam your hand over your mouth and shoot Tim an apologetic look. He just shrugs at you. “Cus Dami’s not here.”

“Yes, I am.”

You all perk up. 

“So, who’s the hottie?” Kon asks.

Tim regrets this group call. 

Don’t Answer the Phone Tired pt. 2

It’s the next day and Damian has gotten even less sleep, thankfully he’s not too tired after a some surprise news shocks him awake.

———————————-

Hey guys here’s the sequel everyone was super excited for. I really hope y'all like it, I definitely wrote it tired, but it should be coherent. 

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

Read part 4 here

Read part 5 here

He really needed coffee, especially after dealing with his brothers after they found out about Marinette. The youngest Wayne was up till four yelling at them to lay off, among more colorful terms, everyone time they called. He would’ve just ignored them but he knew that ignoring them would just wind up with him getting a surprise visit sooner than later. The fresh Parisian air felt good against his face as he stood on his balcony.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair!” Marinette's voice called from the street.

“Only if the prince is willing to protect me from my aggravating brothers!” He cracked a smile as he shouted back.

“Alas I cannot do that, but would my damsel take this as a reward?” She held up a purple travel mug and a bag filled with a croissant.

“I think I could take that deal. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He ran inside to grab his bag and throw on some day clothes before meeting Marinette.

“Have I mentioned you’re the best girlfriend? Because you’re the best girlfriend.” Damian said walking up to Marinette.

“You could stand to mention it more.” The bluenette replied handing him his promised coffee and croissant. He gulped down the coffee barely taking a breath until Marinette laughed and said, “Slow down there, you won't have any time to savor any of it.”

“If you want to stay up late dealing with my brothers, please be my guest but if not,” He gestured with his cup, “I’m gonna drink as fast as I want to.” Marinette nodded to that.

“Was it that bad last night after you left?”

“By bad do you mean each one of was trying to call me every five minutes out of ‘concern’ for my health or to check to make sure I hadn’t kidnapped you.” Marinette laughed again. “Anyway if I didn’t talk to them at all they probably would’ve hopped on the first flight they could to see what’s going on.” They stopped at the light, when Damian turned to look at Marinette he noticed she was avoiding his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about my brothers. Would you Angel?”

“Well, I might have gotten a text from Aurore to keep you away from school because three older guys had come and were asking around for you. One of them was half asleep and she couldn’t figure out how he was functional.”

Damian paled, after a moment he said “And why then are we going to school, I personally want to get as far away from them as possible.”

“She sent me a follow up saying to get there as fast as possible. Lila told her lie in front of the wrong person and, well I’ll show you the video.” Marinette handed her phone to Damian who hit play on the video that was up.

The forms of Grayson, Todd and Drake half asleep leaning on Jason. A voice came from off screen saying,

“Girl I can’t believe Tim’s not taking you to the Wayne Gala.” Alya, Damian thought. She was beginning to walk into frame with someone else. He knew who she was before she spoke.

“I know right. It’s just why would he invite someone else!” There in all her demonic glory stood Lila Rossi, not yet realising who she was walking next to.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you talking about Tim Drake? Adopted son of Bruce Wayne?” Grayson asked innocently. Damian knew that voice, it was the same one he used when he was going to demolish someone. “Well yeah. He’s her boyfriend, who are you anyway? Why do you care?” Alya was immediately there to be Lila’s guard dog.

“Well my name is Richard Grayson-Wayne. Tim’s brother and Bruce's son. I care because unless he’s as good at keeping secrets as Damian is, which he’s not, then he isn’t dating this girl.” Alya paled, the camera zoomed in on Lila’s face. She looked like she was about to be sick

“Huh? I heard my name.” Drake, who was in a rare moment of lucidness, looked at Dick.

“Are you pulling a Damian and secretly dating a girl in France?” Todd still Drake’s support was glaring at Lila.

“What?! Are you kidding me? No!” Drake looked like he was just hit with a cement slab.

“What are you talking about obviously you’re dating Lila! Stop Lying! I bet you're not even the real Tim Drake.” Alya was shouting now drawing crowds from around the courtyard. Drake looked at Grayson confused.

“She does realize that we can sue her if she’s really telling these types of lies right? Like she can’t be doing that.” Tim stood in front of Dick and turned his back to the paled liar and fuming reporter

“Oh leave Lila alone!” Alya came towards Drake and shoved him into Grayson.

“That does it.” Todd who had moved off to the side started walking towards the brunette rolling up his sleeves. Grayson and Todd recovered quickly, and moved to hold Todd back.

“We should get there before Todd kills them.” He said calmly before handing the phone back to Marinette. “Otherwise we won’t be able to take her down ourselves.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

In no time the duo were walking up the steps of Françoise Dupont where the sounds of shouts could be heard. The scene they entered was somehow more chaotic then the one Aurore had sent in the video. Todd was hanging upside down, the rope leading up around the handrails on the second floor then back down to a corner of the courtyard. Drake was on the bench snoring softly with his head almost touching the floor. Dick was on the phone, presumably with some lawyers. The entire bottom courtyard of the school was littered with papers and balloons were strewn about. Lila was nowhere to be seen.

“It looks like they’ve taken care of the situation, and they haven’t spotted us yet so I’m just gonna…” Damian began.

“There he is! Demonspawn, finally I thought you’d never get here.” Jason interrupted. He had spun around and caught sight of Damian and Marinette walking in. Dick turned around at the sound of Jason’s voice before saying “Yeah Duke I’ll have to call you back, but we need to sort this Lila stuff out.” He put his phone away before walking over to a corner of the building where he took out his knife and slashed a piece of rope. Jason came crashing down.

“A little warning next time Dick.” Jason said brushing off some dust that had settled on his tan leather jacket. Each one of them were dressed in their civilian clothing. Dick had on a pair of blue jeans with a grey t-shirt paired with some black sneakers. Jason was wearing his usual jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket combo. Drake was in some weird form of pajama and day clothes mixing a graphic T-shirt and red flannel with grey sweatpants and slippers.

“Now I know that we have to be dreaming. Demonspawn is actually wearing a sweatshirt. I don’t even think Alfred could get him to do that.” Damian had run out once he heard Marinette’s voice that morning so he had just thrown on a pair of pants, a shirt and a sweatshirt barely thinking about it. He had become relaxed in Paris.

“What the hell are you guys doing here.” Damian’s face was quickly beginning to match a tomato in color and he was backing out of the entryway.

“Well obviously we had to come and see you, and meet your girlfriend.” Dick who had walked over to Marinette grabbed her hand and shook it. “My name’s Dick, the grumbling menace over there is Jason. The one currently passed out is Tim, nice to meet you, uh”

“Marinette.” She supplied. “I also have to thank you for taking care of a certain person, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of her for a year.”

“Oh it was no problem at all, especially after she claimed she was dating Tim.” Damian quickly interrupted the two with a few well placed coughs. “I don’t mean to cut this short Grayson but we have to be getting to class.”

“Oh don’t worry. Bruce already called you out for the day, and Marinette I’m sure you can miss one day of school.” Jason said walking up behind Marinette.

“As much as I’d love to, I have two tests today. I’ll be happy to meet up with you afterwards though.” Damian’s eyes widened as the words sunk in and he realized what that meant for him.

“Please don’t leave me alone with them.” He looked at Marinette pleadingly.

“You’re gonna have to tell us how you got him to say please, it took Alfred a month to do that.” Jason remarked.

“Maybe another time, now I’ve gotta get to class.” She gave one look at Damian and there was laughter in her eyes.

“I hate you.” He said.

“No you don’t.” She called back, disappearing around the corner.

“So how bout we wake up Timmy and go get breakfast. I for one am famished.” Jason came up and put a hand on Damians shoulder.

“Ya know that doesn’t sound so bad Jason. Then Damian can tell us all about Paris, and the people he’s met.” Dick stood in front of Damians glare gleefully looking at Jason.

“I will kill you both and Father will never be able to find your bodies.”

“Yeah but then Marinette will be disappointed. For some reason she gives off the ‘thou shall not kill’ vibe.” Grayson said. “Now how are we gonna wake Tim up.”

“Oh I’ll  take care of it.” Damian said grabbing his Ice filled water bottle.

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Threads of Fate 2: Electric Boogaloo (Jason Todd X reader)

Hello everyone, E here with another story! this time it’s part 2 for the story i wrote for my good friend @hains-mae last year for her birthday! so naturally it’s her birthday again cuz that’s how they work! Red Hoodie X reader. I hope you all have an amazing week. I will be trying to write my original story and post it sometime this/next week but we’ll see what happens. Stay safe, take care of yourself, for the love of all that is holy stay inside! wear masks! PLEASE! GET THE FLIPPING VACCINE IF YOU CAN!

E out, byeeeeeee! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAE!

Here’s both parts conveniently in one place for you (cuz tumblr hates me and my tags)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955270/chapters/73737858

“Romeo and Juliet? You’re so cliché that troupes are rolling their eyes at you.”

I shoot him a dirty glare “Says the guy that has Pride and Prejudice in his jacket pocket. Yeah yeah” I cut him off before he begins to throw out excuses “I know you say it’s thick enough to stop bullets but you’re not fooling me. You love some classic romance.”

“You’re no Lizzy Bennet” he grumbles behind his mask.

“And you no Mr. Darcy yet I tolerate you all the same.”

“It’s for my charming personality.”

“Certainly not for your face.” I playfully throw back “Smooth, featureless and red isn’t exactly my type.”

“I’m surprise you have a type given your lack of taste in books.”

I roll my eyes “Oh great now the former crime lord is giving me crap about my tastes in book.”

He rose his hands in surrender “Hey, that was my edgy phase.”

“Was? You’re still dressing like a goon from indie action film.”

“You kidding? Goons wish they looked this good.”

“I don’t think any respectable goon would shop at the thrift store.”

“Low blow. Low blow.”

I give the costumed vigilante a sideways smile as we settle into a comfortable silence.

It’s been about two years since Red Hood decided to intrude my quiet life (well as quiet as life could be in Gotham) and we have developed this strange friendship.

Every moment he wasn’t on patrol or at a briefing (coughfamilymeetingcough) he spent here. At first, I thought it was just him checking up on me like some overburdening mother worried their child couldn’t handle a minute in the backyard but I soon realized this became some sort of haven for him, a place for him to just exist. Not quite relax and let his guard down but just to be. No appearances of brutality to keep up, no disappointed glances from his estranged father figure. Just him picking on me because he’s a jerk.

But then again so am I.

I nervously glance at the red string tied snugly around my finger. It pulled off to the side though not too much further from me as its other end was wrapped around Red’s finger.

Strings of fate mom used to call it. My power to see the threads of destiny tying two people deeply together. At first I thought it was love or something junk like that but now I’m thinking maybe it just leads you to someone you need and someone that needs you back.

Or maybe it is love, what do I know? All I know about my power is it makes walking the streets harder than it needs to be. Ever see those old pictures of cities with powerlines just in every freaking direction? The strings are at least ten times worse than that! Luckily they’re not real? Well more an abstract concept that I see and not physical and you know what don’t worry about it.

“So” Red spoke up after a moment “Hungry?”

“After you insulting my taste in books?” I gave a fake pout “Starving. Oh shoot, I forgot to go to the store.”

Red chuckled “You didn’t forget, Penguin decided to try to extort it for protection money.”

“Oh” I blush in embarrassment “Right.”

“And you fell back asleep.”

I waved him off “Sometimes you just wake up, see the news and decide it’s not worth it.”

“I never get to sleep in.” Red rose to his feet “but honestly I’ve always had trouble sleeping.”

The nightmares. He mentioned it once in an off hand comment when he asked me why I toss and turn at loud noises. Gotham just does that too you. Eventually you learn to get ready to bolt at any loud noises over 190 decibels. Fun fact, that’s the noise level of a shotgun fired by your ear or a rocket taking off.

Or Joker laughing on the roof of your apartment building. Let me tell you, nothing’s louder than that madman. Thunder sounds like cats and dogs once you hear the Joker’s manic chuckle just a few feet away from you. One time years ago and I can still feel the chills run down my back whenever I think of it.

“So are you going to order pizza or what?” I asked quizzically “Since you’re aware I don’t have any in the fridge.”

I could practically hear the sarcasm dripping in every word out of his mouth as he held a bag of groceries aloft “I was trained by Batman. I’m always prepared.”  

Batman. Whatever his relationship with the dark knight currently is, he always spoke of him with a soft, gentle voice. A quiet pride that out of everyone in the world, the Bat chose him. But with that pride was a hint of shame. Everyone knew Red Hood hadn’t exactly made it easy on the old bat and while Hoodie was changing his ways, there was still some friction between them.

I didn’t say anything though. No point. He knew where he stood with his father figure and bringing it up would just make him sully. Besides I was way too curious to know how good of a cook he was.

I marveled in an awe silence as he expertly placed the various ingredients across my messy counter. He chuckled to himself as he cleared it to make space for dinner. I could feel my cheeks burn.

Watching him was oddly mesmerizing: His movements were precise yet graceful for someone with his build. He glided across the floor effortlessly, smoothly dicing whatever he brought one moment then by the time I blinked, he was warming up the frying pan by the stove.  

Soon an incredible smell filled the air while the sizzling of meat practically had me drooling.

“Your chin.” Red motioned to my lip with a spatula. I brought up my hand and flinched at how moist it was. Okay so it was drool. Sue me! You’d be drooling too if you had to deal with waiting for whatever heavenly meal he was cooking, okay?

Desperate to change the subject, I piped up “Should be I concern how well you handle that knife?”

He gave a casual wave with said instrument  “I hold the power of destruction and creation in my hand.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

Red coughed loudly “I’ve trained with various weapons knives included. You’d be surprised how much overlap happens between cooking and weapons handling.”

“Right. Sure. That’s a totally normal statement.”

“What about me” He gestured to himself “Is normal?”

“Fair point.” I conceded.

-----

“Am I forgiven?”

I grumbled a half answer as I tried not to let on how delicious this meal was. I don’t make the best money and let me tell you before this the fanciest thing I ever ate was some overpriced pasta from some restaurant chain.  This easily beat anything I have ever tasted except mom’s cooking but I hadn’t had that in years.

Red snorted, his voice smooth and melodic not filtered through some robotic alternation. I didn’t really had a dining room or a dinner table so we sat comfortably on my couch, tv playing some nonsense in the background as we both took in the sight of the city beyond my modest window. The lower part of his mask retracted backwards via some kind of high tech witchcraft and allowed him to eat his food without needing to show the rest of his handsome face.

I mean I think it was handsome. I assumed it was handsome given I accidentally figured out who was under the whole persona he set up for himself. I never told him that I knew though I suspect he knew that I figured it out. He was smart even if he acted like an idiot and it really was for the best. Plausible deniability. If I never asked, he never needed to answer.

“You know if you want me to cook again, you need to forgive me. Otherwise I’m not gonna waste my time anymore.” Red threatened with a tease.

I let out an exasperated groan “Fine, fine! It’s good. It’s the best food I’ve ever had! Is that what you want to hear?”

“Naturally. Though I could never compete with Alfred. He has no equal in the kitchen. Better than my brothers though. They can’t cook to save their lives. Tim practically lives on fast food.”

I stopped shoving food into my maw as an icy chill ran through my body. The comfy silence that filled my humble apartment turned tense.

One of those names I could pretend away: Tim? Alfred? Every day common names. But together? Tim AND Alfred. Everyone knew every member of the Wayne family because they were the only rich family in Gotham who didn’t want to screw everyone else over. And he brought up his brothers. That was the final nail in the coffin.

I put down my fork slowly. I could feel myself breath heavily but I refused to see him. I refused to meet his mask with nothing but my own shocked reflection to look back at me.

“I know you know who I am.” He said simply.

I could feel the syrupy urge to look at him ebbing at my resolve.

I swallowed uneasily “What now? What happens to me?”

‘Us’ I left unasked.

Silence.

“I don’t know”

I tried to calm my breathing but I could feel panic grip at me: Does this mean he’s not going to come anymore? Does this mean I have to go into witness protection? Is Batman going to scold me?!

“But I want to.”

I couldn’t help myself. I turned to him and for one of the few times in my life I was left speechless.

I was not staring at Red Hood. I found myself not looking at the smooth, featureless mask I had grown accustom to these last two years but Jason Todd.

Out of all of Bruce Wayne’s children, Jason was the one who seemed to just fall off the face of the Earth. There was a rumor he had died a few years back but those were debunked when he appeared without warning, just walking the streets of Gotham like he went on an extended vacation.

There wasn’t too many pictures of the enigmatic Mister Todd but that quick glance I had gotten forever ago did not do him justice: He was my age. His eyes were a piercing blue that I did not know could be that shade. I know it’s cliché but I felt like he was staring directly into my soul. His face was rugged, rough but still handsome. His hair was a messy jet black but there was few streaks of white that looked too natural to be dyed.

“I….didn’t see anything?” I offered helpfully, giving him a chance to put the mask on and pretend this none of this ever happened.

His nose wrinkled as he gave me a playful scoff. I could feel my heartbeat roaring in my ears.

“I’m not that ugly. Better looking than Dick.” he joked playfully.

“I dunno. Dick’s got the better ass.” I mumbled out, still too caught guard from the whole reveal.

“But I got the muscles.”

“Yes you do.” I eyed his body carefully then flushed a bright pink.

That knocked me out of my stupor.

“Are you sure you want me to know?” I whispered, unable to keep the fear out of my voice “I mean I didn’t mind pretending I didn’t know.”

“I do.”

His face soften and for a moment he didn’t look like Jason Todd, wayward son of Bruce Wayne or the Red Hood, moral gray compress of the batfam.

He just look like a regular guy who needed someone.

Evidently me it seemed.

I took a calming breath and offered my hand. He stared at me like I’m crazy but I kept it outstretched.

He took it gingerly and shook carefully, still unsure what was going on.

“Hello Jason Todd.” I beamed cheerfully “It’s nice to meet you!”

He said nothing, instead opting to smile softly.

“Nice to meet you too.”

I stared at the metaphysical string that tied us so neatly together.

I have never seen it that red before. And has it always been that thick?

I wonder what that means.

Eh, it’s probably nothing. I had other things to worry about.

Just the Same

Summary:

“You’re sick.”

“You’re ugly.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t feeling well?”

“I’m fine.” Jason closes his eyes. “Just a little tired.”

“Uh-huh. And that’s why you have a fever?”

Read it here on AO3!

Bruce has a very simple plan for tonight, alright? He’s going to grab a quick post-patrol snack from the kitchen, then he’s going to take a shower, and then he will go promptly to bed. He’s tired. It’s been a long day. He just wants to sleep. (You absolute fool, the goblin in his brain screeches at him, because the goddamn Batman cannot get a goddamn break or else the world will literally split in two.) Fatefully, Bruce passes the den’s open doorway while half of his mind is preoccupied with sending Dick a goodnight text, and he happens to glance into the room. That’s when he stops in his tracks. Even more fatefully, Alfred is coming down the hall in Bruce’s direction, carrying a tray with a single cup of tea on it. “Alfred?” “Yes, Master Bruce?” “Were you aware that Jason was home?” Alfred looks over at where Jason is asleep on the den sofa, still in his leather jacket and boots. He doesn’t look remotely surprised by the sight. Then again, is Alfred ever surprised? “Master Jason got in while you were on patrol. I offered to make him dinner, but he said he wasn’t hungry.” Then there’s that classic Alfred Pennyworth eyebrow crease. “When he wakes up, do inform him that one does not forgo the need for nutrition when one has been dipped in a Lazarus Pit.” “I’ll be sure to do that.” “Now, if you will excuse me.” Alfred walks off with his perfectly level tray, on a perilous journey to Damian’s room. Bruce envies him. At least Alfred gets to go to sleep after Damian gets his nighttime tea. Bruce enters the den carefully, without a sound. God knows Jason hardly sleeps through the night without interruption as it is. Now, at least, he looks peaceful enough. So much time has passed since his last haircut that his hair curls against his temple, plastered with sweat. He must have come here straight from Red Hood business. At least he didn’t get blood on the couch this time. Quietly, Bruce pulls the knitted throw blanket from where it’s draped over the back of the sofa and lays it over Jason, tucking it in close when he catches a shiver rattling Jason’s teeth. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that Jason’s cheeks are flushed as well. His mouth is locked in a grimace, even in sleep. Bruce presses the back of his hand against Jason’s forehead and clicks his tongue. Definitely a fever. Jason’s eyebrows wrinkle at the touch. His eyes crack open and take a moment to land on Bruce, sitting on the edge of the couch by Jason’s torso. It says a lot that he doesn’t go into battle mode as soon as he registers an unfamiliar presence in the room. “Mmph. Go away.” “You’re sick.” “You’re ugly.” “Why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t feeling well?” “I’m fine.” Jason closes his eyes. “Just a little tired.” “Uh-huh. And that’s why you have a fever?” “Why don’t you mind your fucking—” Jason tumbles into a coughing fit, wet and hacking. “I’ll be right back,” Bruce tells him with a parting pat on the knee. His knees creak as he stands, heading for the bathroom down the hall. He digs through the medicine cabinet until he finds the thermometer, one of many that Alfred keeps in every bathroom in the house. He grabs a bottle of Tylenol as well. Bruce goes back to the couch and reclaims his spot next to Jason, who has stopped coughing by now, but his breathing is heavy. Bruce touches the thermometer to Jason’s temple, ignoring his weak swats. It reads out a hundred and one degrees. “When did you start feeling sick?” Jason grunts and rolls onto his side, curling in on himself. “Dunno. Yesterday, I guess.” Bruce frowns. Of course Jason would ignore any achy feelings for as long as possible. None of Bruce’s kids have a single self-preserving bone in their bodies. “Tell me your symptoms.” “Being a fucking snack.” “Jason.” Jason coughs. “Leave me alone, old man.” “Does your throat hurt?” “Yeah, so quit trying to make me talk.” “Any nausea?” Jason buries his face into a throw pillow. “You’re fuckin’ exhausting, you know that?” He sighs. “Not since last night. I’m freezing, lethargic, and my head is killing me. Happy?” Bruce hums. “It’s probably the flu.” “Yeah, no shit.” Jason closes his eyes. “Now will you leave me alone? You’re making my headache worse.” Bruce twists open the Tylenol cap and shakes out a couple of tablets into his palm. “Here.” He holds them out to Jason. Jason opens one eye, looks at the pills, and closes it again. “No.” “Jason—” “No. Don’t like pills.” Bruce can’t say he didn’t expect as much. Still, it does Jason no favors to continuously refuse any sort of medication, choosing to tough out the pain for as long as he can. It all ties back to his mother’s drug addiction, a disease which Jason watched slowly kill her over years and years. It makes sense that he’d grow up with an unwavering aversion to drugs. When Jason was a small tot, Bruce and Alfred spent what probably accumulated to hours of cajoling, trying to talk Jason into taking even the lightest painkillers. Lidocaine and numbing solutions were fine, but anything resembling a narcotic was out—and still is, apparently. It makes Bruce wonder how Jason reacted to the Lazarus Pit and its euphoria-inducing waters—part of the whole “magical healing” process. Maybe he was too out of his mind at the time to form a solid thought, much less remember his childhood trauma. This is one fight Bruce chooses not to get into, so he recaps the Tylenol and sets it aside. Miraculously, Jason is already asleep again. That’s fine with Bruce; it’s better his son sleeps this flu off than wastes his energy arguing. Trying not to jostle him too much, Bruce takes off Jason’s boots and leaves them on the carpet. He grabs the TV remote and settles in on the couch with Jason’s feet in his lap, pulling up a nature documentary on hyenas that he and Damian haven’t had the chance to finish yet. Looks like he’ll be catching up on his sleep tomorrow night. Right now, Jason needs him (despite how fervently he’ll protest as much). Honestly, this whole situation brings Bruce back to the old days. After moving into the manor, it took over six months for Jason to completely recover from the years of malnutrition he suffered on the streets. His weight was far too low for a boy his age, even more scrawny than Tim. Alfred provided Jason with plenty of vitamin supplements and extra servings at dinner to bulk him up, but his immune system was shoddy at best no matter how much weight he gained. During his Robin era it was illness after illness, from the common cold to a whammying case of pneumonia. This is the first time Jason has been sick in Bruce’s presence since his death, though. Bruce is learning about the eating habits of hyenas when Tim comes in from the kitchen with a cup of peppermint tea, despite having supposedly gone to bed three hours ago. He stands there in the doorway for a moment, looks owlishly at Jason, then at Bruce, then back to Jason. He grins. “No,” Bruce says. “You don’t even know what I was going to do!” “I know you, and the answer is no.” “Jeez, Bruce. I’m not gonna kill him.” Tim attempts to cross his arms, forgetting that he’s holding hot tea, and hisses when it scalds his arm. “The hand-in-warm-water trick’s never hurt anyone,” he mutters. “Go back upstairs. You’ll get sick.” Tim wrinkles his nose. “This is prejudice against people without spleens, you know. I could sue your ass.” “Sue me from upstairs where I can comfortably know that you won’t die from the flu.” Tim rolls his eyes, but he goes. Bruce hears him stomp up the stairs, getting quieter and quieter until the footsteps are gone entirely. Bruce shakes his head. How did he ever think that having four boys would be a good idea? He questions his younger self’s judgement every day. For the next three hours, Jason sleeps in fits and starts. He never stays awake longer than five minutes at a time, drinking water when Bruce prods him to and grudgingly letting Bruce check his temperature for any spikes. Bruce learns quite a bit about hyenas in the meantime, until the documentary ends and a new one about sea otters begins. In between the hazy bouts of wakefulness, Jason tosses restlessly in the throes of nightmare after nightmare. Beads of sweat roll down his forehead. In the back of his mind Bruce wonders, is this just the fever talking or are nightmares a nightly villain for Jason? The latter would come as no shock, but that doesn’t mean he likes the idea. Bruce runs his fingers through Jason’s sweaty curls, a reflection of years ago when he would do the same thing any time Jason had a nightmare during his youth. Jason has been cheated out of peaceful nights from the beginning. Of course, back then there wasn’t a white streak splitting the darkness of his onyx hair—a reminder of the pit water swimming in Jason’s blood. Bruce moves a lock of hair off Jason’s forehead, gentle as a moth. Jason’s eyes fly open and he jerks away from the touch, a gasp ripping up his throat. Bruce doesn’t move. He gives Jason a moment to regain his bearings, stilling the hand in Jason’s hair. Green irises lock on Bruce, frenzied. “Where?” he croaks. “The manor.” Jason takes a deep breath in, clenching his jaw. “Okay.” He lets it out. “Okay.” Bruce grabs the water bottle he’s kept on the coffee table. “Here,” he says, moving his hand down to Jason’s back and prodding a shoulder blade. “Sit up.” “Fuck you.” It comes out half groan, the illness-wrought exhaustion catching back up with Jason. “You need to hydrate.” “Double fuck you.” Bruce shrugs. “Drink half of this or I’ll call Alfred and have him convince you. Your choice.” Jason rolls his eyes and snatches the bottle. Bruce will take that as a victory. Jason sits up with enormous effort, groaning at the aches in his body until he’s upright next to Bruce. He drinks the water, wincing when it hits his sore throat. “What were you dreaming about?” Bruce ventures to ask. Jason lowers the bottle to narrow his eyes at Bruce like he’s the biggest idiot in this room. “Shut up.” The annoying part is that Bruce genuinely has no idea what Jason’s nightmare could have been about. His childhood? His death? His resurrection? Any of the traumatic things that could have happened afterward, ones that Bruce wasn’t there for? There is such a disconnect between the two of them now. He should count it a blessing that they have moments like this, though Bruce would greatly prefer spending time with Jason while he isn’t sick and miserable. But Bruce will take it, nonetheless. Jason drains a sufficient amount of water, only to lurch forward in another coughing fit as soon as he gets in a breath. “Christ,” he rasps, eyes watering. “Just fucking shoot me already, will ya?” Bruce rubs his back. “I could tranq you, if you really think it would help. But I can’t guarantee that one of your brothers won’t take advantage of that and draw mustaches on your face while I’m not looking.” “Har, har. You’re a fucking comedian now.” Jason’s voice is coarse as gravel, scraping up his vocal cords. “Want some tea? It’ll help soothe your throat.” “Later. Just wanna...sleep for now.” In spite of everything he stands for, Jason tips his head to rest it on Bruce’s shoulder. Whether it was intentional or he’s just so disoriented from the fever that he has no idea he’s even doing it, Bruce won’t take the gesture for granted. Jason is shivering, so Bruce pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders where it slackened during his sleep. Then, in a riskier maneuver, he puts his arm around Jason and pulls him in close like he did so many times when Jason was a lot shorter and a lot less jagged around the edges. Bcuce still loves him just the same. Jason leans into Bruce’s warmth instinctively, but he warns, “Tell anyone about this and I’ll shatter your clavicle.” “Mm-hm.” “I mean it. You’ll need a goddamn orthopedic surgeon to fix you up if you breathe a word of this to anyone.” “I believe you.” It must be a good enough answer because Jason closes his eyes, relaxing in Bruce’s hold. “The only reason I’m gonna say this is ‘cause my brain is melting,” Jason says, “but...thanks. For being here.” He yawns. “Being sick alone fuckin’ sucks.” “I hear you.” “And keep Tim away from me, ‘kay? I don’t trust the little snot not to pull something.” Bruce snorts and unpauses the otter movie. “Go to sleep, Jay.”

THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS PART ONE: CINEMATIC WRONGS AND ANALYSIS COMMENTARY

DO NOT REBLOG.

This is going to be a bullet point list of incidents that occur in the movie, and will either have my general commentary or an analysis of what makes the scene terrible (or in some rare cases, good). TRIGGERS FOR SUICIDE, MENTAL HEALTH, AND DYSMORPHIA 

-bruce trying to kill himself in the beginning of the movie. 

Hes reckless, and willing to risk his life, but not suicidal. But he just purposefully gets into a wreck at 2 minutes into the movie?? for no reason??? theres literally no reason for it other than it being angsty bc they COULDVE started the movie with the mutants doing crime, as the next scene cuts right into it and the following news reports 

-"This reporter hopes that wherever he is, hes enjoying a toast with good friends" said when its the anniversary of batman’s disappearance 

this is stupid I hate this movie. You're telling me Gotham forgives Batman for just disappearing on them? DID THAT NOT HAPPEN IN NML AND EVERYONE GOT PISSED??? Like everyone in this movie seems to have forgot he abandoned the city. Not to mention, and I'm gonna go off on a tangent here, bruce will be batman for as long as he lives. He calls himself batman in his mind even when hes retired. He believes that Bruce wayne is the mask. His whole identity is batman. Saying that hed quit because of jason is not only stupid because it implies Jason's death isnt just as important as his parents, but shows that any tragedy is enough to permanently knock him down. And as if the league, or the family, would have let him give up. Anyway the whole reason the retirement in batman beyond works is because it shows bruce was going to fight until he literally died on the spot, but instead he pointed a gun, didn't even use it, just pointed it, and he realized he wasnt fit to HONOR batman anymore. He broke the rule. And he doesnt deserve to wear the mantle. This is so good because 1) bruce still wants to be batman and 2) it doesnt imply that he gave up at all, and at this point with his decreasing wellness his family WOULD be telling him to stop

-Gordon toasts with Bruce on the anniversary

FBKSBSOANSISSB OH MY GOD IT JUST SHOWED HIM SHARING A TOAST WITH GORDON. this is the anniversary of the last time batman is sighted and gordon. JIM FUCKING GORDON. Is celebrating. When they were literally partners and hed shine the batsignal each night TELL ME WHERE THE LOGIC IS!!! I CANT FIND THE LOGIC!!!!! I'm literally 3 minutes into this movie..... and already this is how its going...

-Gordon and Bruce talk

"You're not worried about me, are you?" Asked when hes in clear danger of being attacked by mutants "noT MorE tHAn i aM tHe ReST oF tHis CItY" ah yes. I forgot that Bruce hated gotham and jim Gordon. My mistake. Common misconception.

-the mutants are introduced

Ugh and it's the worst kind of villains too, jim just described the mutants as "the worst kind of criminals. They are only after violence, with no humanity at all" GIVE! VILLAINS! REASONING! I hate these joker wannabes Joker was already enough we dont need a million more "lol I'm just evil deal with it" villains

"Talk to Dick lately?"asks Gordon "You know I havent" Bruce responds

THIS CONVERSATION IS GETTING W O R S E BC I KNOW HOW THIS MOVIE GOES AND HE JUST INSTANTLY HAS CARRIE BE THE NEW ROBIN- WHICH, IS N O T BRUCE'S TO GIVE. ITS ALWAYS BEEN DICK'S MANTLE TO PASS DOWN- WHEN HE HASNT BEEN SPEAKING TO DICK????

-tangent on how it’s overlooked that Dick Grayson was the one to make Robin, not Batman

This is a sin that not just the movie, but the batman franchise in general seems to always make. Robin was made as a tribute to the flying graysons, and is meant to be colorful and aerodynamic for acrobatic tricks. it should always be dick’s to pass down, or the next robin after. 

-Bruce begins having trouble with holding back his urge to be Batman

His whole wanting to be batman again thing started because of a newspaper with a family's death and pearls being sold. On the same front cover. I'm. THATS WHEN HE REMEMBERS HIS PARENTS? NOT EVERY FUCKING TIME HE HEARS A GUNSHOT? OR CLOSES HIS EYES? OR SEES BLOOD? HE READS A NEWSPAPER THATS FLOATING IN THE WIND??????NOT EVERY TIME HE LOOKS AT JASONS COSTUME? OR THE OTHER CRIMES COMMITTED??????LOGIC!!!!!!!!!! I NEED !!!! TO KNOW!!!!! WHERE IT IS!!!!!!!! ARE U KIDDING ME NOW THE MARK OF ZORRO, WHICH IS WHO THE FUCK KNOWS HOW OLD NOW, IS ON TV??????????? AND HE JUST HAPPENS TO FLIP TO THE CHANNEL.. Batman telling bruce "you've tried to hold me back. But you're weak. Ypu know it in your soul. You're nothing but a hollow shell." Is so STUPID!! WHY HAS HE BEEN FIGHTING BEING BATMAN!!!!!!!!!! BRUCE SHOULD WANT TO BE BATMAN!!!! AND HATE HAVING TO NOT BE!!!! AND A BAT FLYING INTO HIS WINDOW AGAIN???? STOP THE FUCKING CLICHES IM SICK OF THIS . UR NOT BEING NEXT LEVEL, MOVIE. ITS JUST DUMB. ITS DUMB!!!

-Carrie Kelly

her first ??? Appearance??? Is her going into KNOWN MUTANT GANG TERRITORY instead of going through the rain. And scolding her friend for not having backbone WHEN THEY COULD LITERALLY DIE and saying, and I quote, "its better than out there." then when interviewed about the incident her friend says  "It was a flying monster! With wings and fangs!" and she replies with "Reality check, Michelle, it was definitely a man, but he had to be like 12 feet tall" OH YEAH THATS VERY REALISTIC CARRIE. Shes an asshole to her friend and we're supposed to like her.  Oh and Carrie's reason for wanting to be robin? She saw the bat signal while her parents were talking about public marches. That's it. That's her reason. Not because she was attacked by mutants and almost died.

-Giving the movie credit

Okay but if theres another thing I'll give credit for, and I'm sure its unintentional, is that Harvey is the first criminal he wants to take down. Because Harvey is always going to be Bruce's priority. He didnt go after the mutants, but Two-Face. And the way that confrontation goes when it’s revealed harvey thinks both sides of his face are scarred. the Arkham staff fixed his scars before he was ready for treatment, and his mental health wasn’t priority. he was going to have dysmorphia either way, but not treating mental illness worsened it.  kinda? good writing? But I think it was unintentional to have the idea that Arkham didnt know what they were doing and the belief that scars are important before trauma, and how trauma has to be helped first. I dont believe for an instant that's what's meant. 

-Carrie Kelly part two

She gets a Robin costume and goes out onto the roof and is like.... almost dies. THEN THE NEXT SCENE WE SEE HER SHES LIKE COMPLETELY ACROBATIC? WHY IS SHE SO ACROBATIC NOW!!! THIS TAKES PRACTICE!!!

-Batman confronting the man who supplied the mutant gang with guns

Oh, this scene...He hands a guy a gun, knowing full well that he was depressed because his wife was dying and he had to make more money to save her by supplying the mutants with weapons, and just walks away as he kills himself. (input from a friend which i like:  think about everything bruce did to help mr freeze and his wife now think about this scene )

Batman vs Mutants 

oh, and the "batmobile". Aka his tank. Rubber bullets. Ok fine, whatever, but RUNNING THEM OVER AND SHOOTING MISSCLES ISNT LETHAL? AND HOW IS CARRIE KELLY GOOD AT FIGHTING ALL OF THEM WHEN SHE COULDNT HANDLE HERSELF WITH ONE LIKE A WEEK AGO.  hate that the mutant leader is just a ripoff of bane with long pointed nipples I hate this. I hate that batman cant take him down, but carrie kelly can. AND THE MUTANT LEADRER TOTALLY DIED WHEN BRUCE THREW ADHESIVE ON HIS FACE AND HE WAS SUFFOCATED BUT LATER ON IT SHOWS HE LIVES ??

Bruce talks to Carrie 

"What is this thing?" -carrie "Dick called it the batmobile" -bruce "SIR!!" -alfred over the radio There are no words. Then she pops his arm into place and creates a makeshift cast And he says "where'd you learn to do that?” and because she’s a mary sue she says nothing, because miller doesnt know why she should, so he cuts to "what's your name?" and she says "Carrie. Carrie Kelly. robin" and HE FUCKING GOES "MINES BRUCE." and then immediately tells Alfred hes bringing "robin" to the cave. I hate it here I hate that he forgets what happened to Jason aFTER ITS HIS LITERAL REASON FOR QUITTING. WHAT IS THE POINT IF HE’S GOING TO ACCEPT THIS GIRL HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW AS ROBIN?

-Bruce talks about Jason

OH BRUCE'S FUCKING LINE. HIS LINE. IM FURIOUS Alfred asks "have you forgotten what happened to Jason?" And he says "I'll never forget. he was a good soldier. He honored me" I AM !!!! SHAKING!!!! WITH HOW MAD !!!! I AM!!! Bruce would NOT say that shit. Implying that jason wasnt his son, or that jason was only a casualty in a war, or that HE FUCKING HONORED HIM AND NOT THE CITY, OR THE TITLE OF ROBIN "He honored me" shut the fuck up I hate this and dont even get me started on the misconceptions of Robin in the first place. i dont want to go into the debate on whether or not they’re soldiers, which I personally don’t believe. but its just stupid because Jason considered being Robin the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he was THE BEST. it wasnt his fault he was killed, either. 

-The ending

So the mutant escapes his cell by going through a VENT. A . V E N T. AND ENDS UP IN THE SEWER. I hate that these mutants are just an army of evil people and have no motivation and the leader is just a brute I fucking hate Bruce calling him "son" And the mutants become the sons of batman who fight crime......??? because their leader is gone?? werent they supposed to be evil criminals with no humanity in them?

-Joker

Okay but Joker being absent the entire first part , only to show up in the end hearing news reports about batman, and then smiling as he stands up and just fucking creepily says "darling" holy shit that gave me goosebumps. another credit i have to give. 

tagged by @runnfromtheak

Rules: list the first lines of your last ten stories. See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. I write the most random things so if you can actually find a pattern then... let me know. Help a fool out. 

P.S. - I know it says opening line and not paragraph but come on, that doesn’t do any story justice.

Gonna do my tags before because this turned out to be longer than expected - @elwon @stevieraebarnes @epistemologys 

1. All The Times Damian Wayne Felt Loved 

This was a birthday fic I wrote for a darling friend of mine. The whole time I was writing this my biggest fear was that the characters were going to... just not be right. Still have that fear.

“Gripping onto a pillow, Damian walked down the dark halls of his grandfather’s house, uncertainty clouding every step that he made. At this hour of the night, no one seemed to be around yet he could feel eyes watching his every move. The eyes of the stars in the sky, the moon and the many trained soldiers that had years of practice when it came to blending into the shadows. It was their presence that forced him to walk with his head held high, to bat away the tears in his eyes and pretend that everything was alright. Pretend that he wasn’t afraid.”

2. To all the stars that are listening

Another birthday fic (maybe that was the pattern all along jk). I actually really enjoyed writing this fic because I felt like I was back in my zone (my zone being angst). Can’t wait to get started on the second part.

“Dick’s life had been anything but ordinary since he was a child. As someone who grew up in the circus, his morning was spent studying with the other kids that travelled with his troupe while in the afternoon, he practiced with his heart and soul to fly as beautifully as his parents. In the nights, he’d stand on the sidelines and watch them perform, absolutely awed by the way their bodies moved, each twist, each turn so seamless, every difficult stunt seemed easy in their skin. Clinging onto the edge of the tent, he wished with all his heart that someday, he could be just like them. A bird freed. With every wish, his voice grew louder and louder until somewhere, up above, a star heard his cry. It heard his desire to be free. The chains that grounded him slowly slipped away and he flew with practiced grace. And just as Dick spread his wings, his parents fell. Birds flightless.

Freedom he had asked for and freedom he had received.”

3. Come here, won’t you hold my hand?

Listen, I spend hours of my life playing genshin impact. Did you really think I wouldn’t write a fic for it? 

“After chasing the traveler away, Xiao sighed, wondering if now was the time to head back to Wangshu Inn. There he could stay away from the harbour and its people, away from the wishes made on stars that could never hear them, away from their fragile happiness that he could shatter with a single touch. Someone like Xiao, so burdened with sins, could never mingle among the mortals without bringing harm. Wherever he went, only misery ever followed. But even though he knew that it would be best for him to leave, a part of him, as silly as it was, worried that the journey back would make him miss out on the opportunity to see an old friend. While he never attended the Lantern Rite in Liyue, he always made sure to catch a glimpse of the Mingxiao lantern that always honored the adepti. It was only at that moment that he could lose himself to the past momentarily and remember a time when he wasn’t so alone, when his battle wasn’t only his to fight.”

4. Jon Kent Must Die

A jaydick flashfic challenge gave birth to this crack series and I will happily go down with this ship. I’ve written too many of these and maybe, in the future I’ll write more. Who will stop me? God? I don’t think so. 

“Damian was sick and tired of his siblings.

Never had he met two people who were so dependent on their partners that they needed them around 24/7. It didn’t matter whether it was day or not, whether they were at the manor or in their respective homes, wherever his brothers went, their fool boyfriends seemed to follow. The obligatory family dinner had been turned into a circus with Todd’s usual clownery that had Damian rolling his eyes so hard that sometimes he was afraid they’d just pop out of his skull. Kent was no better. In fact, on more than one occasion, he had encouraged Todd’s rambling as though he was God’s chosen prophet, sharing his truth with the world. Damian really wished, just for a day, the two of them would simply go away. It wasn’t that he missed his siblings or anything. He just wished to have a conversation with Richard that didn’t end with him wanting to stab someone. Hopefully a 5’11 man with black hair with a streak of white and deep green eyes that could find a conspiracy in Titus’s preferred pose for napping.”

5. I wanna be in your arms by the sea (studying your freckles so curiously)

Yes. It’s another genshin impact fic. Sue me. (Please don’t I’m broke).

“Every night, Zhongli saw the same dream.

Caressed by the gentle winds of the Guili plains, he watched over his people, Guizhong’s people as they lived in prosperity, enjoying the calm and gentle wind that wrapped around them. Serenity was a blessing and they had an abundance of it. In the beginning, when Guizhong had described such a scene, something knit carefully in her imagination, he had not believed her. But now that he was seeing with his own two eyes, he was glad that he had agreed to her terms. Glad that he had formed a contract that had been beneficial for all.”

6. I stay up late and talk to the moon (And I can’t stop telling her all about you)

A christmas exchange fic that I loved writing because it really got me back into the writing for jaydick. It had been a while since I touched anything fandom related. Then this story happened. 

“According to Jason, there weren’t many things that Bruce really got right. Not with his rules that could never be bent for anyone or his sickeningly righteous sense of justice. But if there was one thing Bruce excelled in, it was throwing the world’s most boring party ever. Every event that ever took place in the Wayne manor was the same. Classical music. Champagne flutes. Appetizers that could never replicate Alfred’s cooking and finally, the same old rich folks of Gotham who needed to be filled in on the latest gossip lest they melt into a puddle.”  

7. Now I’m going down on you (proving what I want is true) Who told me I could write smut? Please take away my license. “Click. Click. Click. With a heavy sigh, Dick switched off the TV and tossed the remote aside after an hour of clicking through the channels, unable to find anything that would keep his mind occupied. Two weeks ago, during a drug bust with the rest of the bats, Dick had suffered an injury to his shoulder which he considered rather minor. But Alfred and Barbara said otherwise as he was benched until he healed, his own city taken over by other vigilantes while he was forced to sit at home and entertain himself with murder mysteries with plot twists he saw coming from a mile away. Unfortunately, even when he hit the gym to let go of some restless energy, he could only do the most basic of workouts, the kind that simply weren’t enough for someone who was so used to being active all day long.”

8. Wayne Boys Unsolved

Another crack fic that I really enjoyed writing. Poor Yvonne though. She was really suffering. 

“Yvonne’s body was thrumming with excitement as she peeked out the window of her room, her eyes falling on the black car that just pulled up in front of her house. Four boys stepped out, ones that she was so very familiar with. After all, she had spent many nights watching every single video they uploaded on their blog. They were paranormal investigators of sorts, the kind that didn’t believe in the supernatural and lived to debunk the stories that revolved around each haunted location. Because people loved to watch them so, both alive and dead, the boys had become famous in every circle possible.”

9. You make me wanna die (I’m burning up in the light)

Another birthday fic and the first dark story I ever wrote. Writing this was fun but also nerve-wracking. 

“I think we need a break.

Two years, three months, four days and seven hours. That was how long it had been since Jason had said those words to Dick, sitting in the middle of the bed they shared, silk sheets pooled around his scarred waist, the white of his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, droplets of it swimming down his throat and across his bare chest that was bruised red with bite marks, across the autopsy scar that he had been reborn with. He looked like a picture, each feature painted so delicately with colours that pulled, that hypnotised and drowned. The fingers of his right hand flexed, parted and then brushed across the back of his neck, tracing the bond mark that tied him down to Dick, shuddering slightly under the imprint, his heady scent spreading across the room like a drug. Strong, so fucking strong that Dick could still taste it on his tongue. Looking like that, after everything they had done, when he opened his mouth, when he said the words that had been sitting on the tipping of his tongue, it was only to end everything that they were.”

10. Come fire up the night (make me feel alive)

Who told me I could write smut (2)

“Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, Dick lay in his bed, tired but unable to fall asleep, the ticking of the clock haunting him. Tick. He took in a deep breath. Tock. He closed his eyes. Tick. He tried to sleep. Tock. Every memory of Jason came rushing back to him. The dark hair with a streak of white that framed his chiselled face. The plump lower lip that he often dreamt about kissing, pulled between his teeth until Jason was groaning. The freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks. Those deep green orbs that gleamed with mischief, teasing and taunting, burning with unbridled fury, one look enough to make Dick’s knees tremble. And as goosebumps spread across his arms, he found himself waking up, lest he did something that he knew he would regret. Like calling up Jason and confessing feelings that were better left unspoken, buried in a special graveyard from which there would be no sudden resurrections.”

Janet Drake...

and the Orphans. She doesn’t care for them. Except when Timothy does, because then it’s a problem™.

----.----

The days following the circus tragedy found Janet constantly wearing a curious accessory. And by that, she means Tim was hanging on to her at all times like a stubbornly stuck belt or backpack, depending on whether he was clinging to her waist or shoulders.

It was a little suffocating at times, but to be honest, the cercany helped her frayed nerves as well as his growing separation anxiety. Because Jack had left, and she was still steaming over the fact.

Her husband, back home for the week, had left for the next dig site earlier than expected, scared away by Timothy’s nightmares and cries. As if it were weird for a four year old to be scared out of his mind by witnessing another little kid’s parents die in front of him. As if it was a minor inconvenience and awkward situation, instead of future therapy material for their kid.

‘Coward’, she thought, full of spite, hand carefully brushing Tim’s hair away from his forehead as he slept with his head in her lap, watching from the couch as Jack trudged down the stairs with his travel suitcase at the ready. 

She wouldn’t ask him to stay, though. Timothy deserved parents willing to stay by their own volition, no some half witted irresponsible man-child who couldn’t deal with a little emotional trauma. 

Like, Janet herself wasn’t the best at reassurance, but at least she was trying, dear god. That had to count more than Jack’s escape act.

But, useless husband aside, she was… worried. About her son.

Emotional trauma wasn’t something she could just intimidate into submission. Some desperate dream, like owning an island, she had the money to fulfil for him. Unknown attacker to eliminate? Sure, there were no lacking meatbags in the market for hire to...make someone else disappear. But dealing with stuff that included heart to hearts and love? Yeah, no. She always thought Jack would be the one dealing with that kind of thing, so she was wholly unprepared for it. It also wasn’t an issue she could just push into her friends; Both Nicole and Lex were equally as unexperienced (inept) in that area.

Though, they did offer some sound advice.

“Take Timothy to see the boy”, suggested Luthor during their weekly business call (or, as Nicole called it, their bitchfest, where they despised together about the concerning lack of braincells flowing in the rest of the corporate world). “He’s probably worried sick about two things: your safety, and the kid’s who he saw become an orphan. Maybe seeing him well cared for by Wayne will be soothing enough for him to relax a little. Fuck if I know. Now, back at my story… You wouldn’t believe what that empty brained, graceless twit Oliver Queen said then.”

So Janet followed his advice, both about the visit to Wayne Manor and not making business with Queen.

After the first uncomfortable five minutes where Tim tried to stutter a condolence out, the kids had taken to one another like fishes to water. The adoration was clear in Tim’s eyes, shining through his nervousness, like that damn bat signal broke through the clouds to illuminate the city.

And Richard, Dick as he asked to be called, absolutely laped at it, doing flips and jumps, each one flashier than the one before, enticing claps from his captive audience of one. He laughed when Tim asked his usual hundred questions, undeterred by her son’s enthusiasm. There were tinges of the sadness and mourning on his eyes, but they were chased away by the four year old’s joy whenever he told a pun.

Sitting at one of the tea tables overseeing the garden where the kids played, Bruce and Janet interchanged looks.

-It was a good idea to bring Tim over, Janet -praised the man.

-Of course -she replied primly, choosing to not inform him it had been Luthor’s suggestion.

-Dick hasn’t laughed at all since he came here… maybe we can set more playdates for them?

Timothy’s laughter in her ears, unburdened for the first time since that night, was all the motivation she needed to nod.

-Why take him in, though? -she asked after a few minutes of watching as Dick did a double flip, to Tim’s excitement.

-Dick… what he went through… it was like seeing myself, back then. I couldn’t just leave him alone.

A sigh, and a sip of tea. 

-Bruce. You can’t adopt every single orphan you come across. 

-----.-----

A little over seven years later, Janet downed a glass of champagne in two long sips, watching from the side of the ballroom as Tim approached the newcomers to his birthday party: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, and his newest ward, Jason Todd.

-When I told him that, I didn’t mean it as a challenge.

-Hum? -asks Nicole, sharp green eyes on her godson, tilting her head a little to hear Janet better.

-Nothing. What are you looking at, that focused?

The woman gave Luthor, who completed their little group (god, reminders of high school much?), a side look. He returned it.

-I’m going to get started into the spa gift card -he said, apropos of nothing, before walking away, whipping out his phone and typing like a madman.

-What was he on about?

-Oh, nothing -mused Nicole, eyes still on Tim (who was, as always with the Waynes, a flustered mess, thanking them -and specially, their latest addition- for coming to his party). She took one of Janet’s hands in both of hers, finally looking away from the child to look at his mother. Nicole’s eyes were full of pity and amusement-. Be strong, Jan.

-What...?

----.-----

-...the fuck?

-Shhh, darling, breath. I told you, didn’t I? Be strong.

-What. Just… no. No. I refuse -he gestured, as graceful and lady like as she could given the circumstances- this. 

They were currently at Wayne Manor, celebrating with the Waynes the fourteenth birthday of the youngest of them. Tim, who had been very cagey and mysterious the last few months, had brought a potted flower. That, apparently, he grew himself, from a seed to the pretty little yellow sprout.

Alstroemeria, a beautiful flower which symbolises enduring friendship. Each of the flower's six petals represents the characteristics of understanding, humour, patience, empathy, commitment and respect.

That was the flower Timothy choose to gift Jason Todd, explaining as he did how he cared for the flower for weeks, telling it stories about Jason and asking it to give him good luck. Something about plants being magical, able to give off special vibes, and how he ‘trained’ it to do the same for Jason. 

It was adorable, and judging from the brat’s furious blush, he agreed. He took the hand-painted pot with utmost care.

It was revolting. She wanted to claw his eyes out, if only to get him to stop looking at her son like that.

Stop him from looking at her son, period.

-Shh -continued to sooth Nicole, quick hand slipping a card into Janet’s purse- There, an all day, full treatment, already paid for spa gift card, from me and Luthor. You’re going to need it. Timmy is eleven after all, hormones are bound to start kicking anytime soon.

She wanted to scream, especially when Richard, apparently tendered after Tim’s heartfelt gift to Jason, picked him up and started to spin him around the ballroom. Her son’s already rosy cheeks went full red.

-Damned Wayne and his godforsaken orphans. I swear to God I’m gonna sue him if he dares adopt another one.

Nicole, on her part, winced a little inwardly. Perhaps this wasn’t the right moment to tell Janet about her sister Talia’s spawn with Wayne.

White House Down (Part 6)

Pairing: Secret Service!Jason x Fem!Secret Service!Reader

Words: 1951

Prompt: Duke Thomas, the President of the United States of America is a huge target for the world. However, Jason Todd, one of the best Secret Service agents in the White House, doesn’t let President Thomas out of his sight. Then you come along, and let’s just say you’re a bit of a distraction. While Jason wrestles with your presence, the White House is attacked which throws his whole world off. Now Jason must work with you to save one of the most important people in the world and the fate of the United States.

Warnings: foul language, smol sexual innuendos

A/N: ENJOY PART 6! More characters have been mentioned and introduced!

(This is a polite reminder that if you are on one of my tag lists and you change your URL PLEASE let me know because ya girl doesn’t have the time or patience to track your new URL down so please TELL ME! Also, tags for this story are still open, SO SEND AN ASK IF YOU WANNA BE ON THIS STORY’S TAGLIST THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!)

☆ ☆ ☆

The three of you exited into the hall, guns up and ready to fire, but you came into contact with no one.

“Okay, follow me,” you beckoned the two men to follow you as you started making your way up the stairs. Out of nowhere, you came face to face with one of Talia’s men, and on instinct, you headbutted him, then punched his throat. The goon stepped back to catch his breath but you acted fast and grabbed his jacket to fling him down the stairs. Jason and Duke stepped back and watched as you ruthlessly took down the goon by yourself.

“Woah…” Duke breathed out.

You picked up the man and in one swift move, you snapped his neck like you did to his friend not too long ago. Suddenly, you felt yourself being pinned against the wall, a hand around your neck. You opened your eyes and saw a huge man choking you against that wall (and not in a sexy way).

“Talia will be happy I caught something for her don’t you think?” he asked you.

“Fuck….you,” you gasped out. Before you could kick him back, the barrel of a gun was pressed against the second goon’s temple and a bullet was sent through his head. You fell to the floor as his hand loosened around your neck.

“Are you okay?” you heard Jason’s voice above you. You looked up as you caught your breath and saw him looking down at you concernedly. Jason sank down to your level and placed a hand on your back.

“I’m fine,” you rasped. With Jason’s help, you got up and turned to him and Duke.

“The stairs are no longer an option,” you said lowly. “We’ll take the elevator. You two grab those guards and let’s go.”

Duke and Jason hesitated before you half-yelled at them to move their asses. The three of you piled into the elevator and waited to hit a button.

“Okay, put the uniforms on,” you ordered them.

“Y/N, take a rest, you almost got choked to death,” Duke suggested.

“No disrespect sir, but we have no time for rests. People’s lives are at stake, and so far, we’re their only hope,” you told them. Jason agreed, but he saw you struggling with his own eyes. Had he not stepped up and killed the man, you would be dead and as much as he hated to admit it, they would be screwed without you.

“She’s right Duke,” Jason told him. He turned to you and crossed his arms.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked.

“Some privacy,” Jason said. You raised your eyebrow and rolled your eyes, but caught a hatch in the top of the elevator car.

“Lift me up so I can open that hatch and then hoist me into the shaft,” you commanded Jason. He opened his mouth, but you cut him off. “If you’re going to say a dick joke, please don’t.”

Jason scowled as he picked you up, not liking how you were preventing him from trying to lighten up the situation. He gave Duke a look, but he shrugged back at Jason. Finally, you got the hatch door open and you crawled on top of the car. You closed the hatch, which was in the form of a grate, so you could still see inside the elevator car.

“Hurry up and change and go to the second floor,” you told the two men. They changed into the uniforms, dumped the bodies outside and went to the second floor. As the elevator car moved up, your heart raced nervously. You had no idea what was going to happen, all you knew was that you couldn’t afford to let Jason nor Duke die in this battle.

The car came to a screeching halt and you breathed out, watching as the doors to the second floor opened and in poured about 6 more guards. Jason and Duke tried to get out, but they stopped them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a guard asked.

“I have to use the bathroom,” Duke said while keeping his head down.

“Look at me while you’re speaking!” the man yelled.

“We both have to use the...the bathroom,” Jason internally groaned at how lame that excuse was.

“Just hold it, we need to meet with Talia,” the same guard pushed Jason back to his spot, which didn’t go over well with him.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this bullshit,” he pulled his guns and shot the guard in the head with no hesitation. Blood spattered on Duke, who stood stunned. In no less than 3 seconds, the other guards acted and ambushed Jason and Duke.

“Idiot,” you muttered before opening the hatch and landing on a guard. His head hit the elevator floor and he was out.

You quickly aided Jason and Duke in taking down the guards and in a matter of minutes, the only people standing were the three of you.

“Now that that’s over with…” you trailed off as you pressed the “open door” button. You walked out of the elevator, Duke, and Jason close on your heels.

“Y/N…” Jason grabbed your arm and spun you to face him.

“What?” you asked as he looked into your eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked slowly.

“I’m fine,” you told him. “I promise.”

Jason let go of you and you continued on to the President’s room. When the three of you arrived, you shut the door and had Jason help you move the dresser to block the doors.

“I found it,” Duke said as he held up the burner phone.

“Pass it here,” Jason held out his hands. Duke tossed the burner to Jason who caught it and immediately dialed the number for the Pentagon Command Center.

“Hello?” a voice answered.

“Babs?” Jason asked.

“Oh my god, you’re okay. We had complete radio silence from the White House for about 2 and a half hours. What’s going on?” Barbara asked. Before Jason had the chance to respond, you took the phone from him.

“The White House has undergone a hostile takeover from a terrorist group--quite possibly the same one who bombed the Capitol building. Hostages have been gathered, and the remaining agents are in a safe room. The President is alive and standing a few feet away from me,” you explained to Babs.

“...Okay...who is this?” she asked, and then it was Jason’s turn to rip the phone out of your hands.

“I’m sorry that was one of my subordinates. Everything she said was correct though,” Jason said.

“Okay, are you going to try to free the hostages? Or should I send in the national guard?” Barbara asked. Jason glanced at you, meeting your impatient glare.

“Hold off on the national guard for now. We’ll take care of the hostages,” Jason replied. You raised an eyebrow in reaction.

“So, do you know who is orchestrating this whole thing?” Barbara asked.

“A woman named Talia. I think it’s Talia Al Ghul, Bruce’s old flame.” Jason told her.

“Talia? Oh god.” Barbara sighed, “I’m gathering her files now.”

“Thanks. We need as much info as we can get,” Jason rubbed the back of his neck.

While you waited for Jason to get off the phone, you turned to find Duke in his closet, searching for something.

“Mr. President, is there anything I can help you with?” you asked him.

“Nope, I’m just changing my shoes, that’s all,” he said from inside his closet. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and waited to see what new shoes he had on. When Duke re-entered the bedroom, your eyes averted to his shoes and you sighed.

“Like my Jordans?” he smiled. “Eh? Eh? Come on, [Y/N], tell me you like them.”

“I guess they’re pretty cool,” you smiled back at him.

“Pretty cool? [Y/N], these shoes are amazing. It’s like walking on clouds,” he slung his arm around your shoulder.

“Well, I’m not into men’s shoes so I wouldn’t know,” you smirked at him.

“Good point,” Duke said.

“Hey, you two,” Jason said from behind you. You and Duke turned to face Jason, who had hung up with Barbara.

“Talia’s guys are gonna be here at any second we have to move,” Jason told you.

“What’s the plan?” you asked.

“Well...things are a little more urgent now.” Jason frowned.

“How so?” you asked.

“Damian is one of the hostages,” Jason said grimly.

“Who’s Damian?” you asked confusedly.

“Shit,” Duke responded, “Has he killed anyone yet?”

“No, but he probably will start if we don’t get our asses down there and get him,” Jason said.

“Who is Damian?!” you asked again.

“Bruce’s son!” Jason replied.

“Who is Bruce!” you asked.

“I don’t have time for this. Listen, the plan is simple. We get down there, kill those bastards and get the hostages out of here. No one is coming to help us,” Jason explained.

“That’s because you told ‘Babs’ not to send anyone,” You said.

“I figured you wanted to save them yourself! Sue me!” Jason scoffed.

“We can use all the help we can--” you began, but Jason put your hand over your mouth.

“Someone is coming. Everyone into the closet,” he whispered. Duke crawled into the closet first, then you and Jason followed. Jason shut the door to the walk-in closet and waited. “It’s hot in here,” you whispered.

“Shhh!” Jason shushed you.

“Fuck you too,” you whispered again.

Outside, you could hear the voices of the mercenaries who served as Talia’s men.

“I thought I heard talking in here.”

“You’re just crazy, Louie. C’mon, let’s get outta here and back to Talia.”

“Wait can’t we just check in case they are in here?”

“Fine! Go check!”

“Fuck,” Jason whispered.

“Relax, we have guns,” you whispered back.

“So do they,” Jason whispered again.

The three of you waited in silence for one of the men to open the closet door, but after a few minutes and nothing happened, you all relaxed.

Your relaxation was short-lived, though, because just as you sighed in relief, the closet door swung open and one of the mercenaries came in. Jason swiftly pulled out his gun and shot the guard before he had a chance to shoot any of you.

“Louie!” his partner came in, gun ready.

You, Jason and Duke all stood up, Duke behind the two of you. You and Jason both had your guns up, prepared to shoot.

“Put the gun down, man. Let’s be civil here,” Jason said lowly.

“We’re invading the fucking White House, there’s nothing civil about this. Not to mention how civil it was when you fucking KILLED LOUIE!” the guard yelled. He had a point, even though you hated to admit it.

“Talia is using you, she doesn’t care what happens to you. To her, you’re just a pawn. You’re expendable, and she will not hesitate to kill you off as soon as her whole scheme is over, should she succeed.” Jason told him, trying to get into his head. The guard lowered his gun and looked at the ground in confusion.

You and Jason also lowered your guns, believing you had subdued the mercenary. However, the guard suddenly raised his gun at the three of you with a devilish smile.

“Luckily, I don’t care,” he growled and shot his gun at the group. Jason fired at him no more than 2 seconds after and the unnamed guard fell to the floor, dead.

“Haha, missed me, bitch,” he cocked his gun.

“Jason...it didn’t miss her.” Duke’s voice came from behind him. Jason quickly turned and found you on the floor holding your thigh in pain.

“Shit!”

☆ ☆ ☆

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