#*hits jason with a pan*

[asher312]

My lil sunshine

(Okay,so i was just- RAPUNZEL IS WILL

I cant unsee it

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP X DC AU the Batkids recognize Danny because they've seen his TV Show!

.....

Discuss.

(I just think it is an untapped vein of humor and shenanigans, if not Truman's world style moral drama, to have the Batkids not only immediately recognize and know Danny but are able to sing his fuckin theme song at him. 😭 😭😭)

[pluckyredhead]

Only best friends hit each other with frying pans

The friendship that pans together...can together? I got nothing. That is such a hilariously terrible issue.

[thewitchblue]

Could you write something about looking into Jason’s wallet and seeing a picture of his lover there?

"Found it!"

Dick said, holding the wallet victoriously. The duo went on a scavenger hunt for Jason's wallet after he lost it. Dick has the hidden talent of being about to find anything.

Jason, to his horror, watched your photo leave his wallet as Dick held it up high. He really did not want to talk about you to his brother, especially this brother. He'd even tolerate stalker Tim finding out before Dick.

"Who's this?"

Dick asked innocently as he looked at your picture. Jason knew he should have put the picture in a more secure part of his wallet, but he didn't want to risk scratching or crinkling it. Now, he will be hounded until Dick and you meet.

The picture wasn't an anniversary, date, or even a birthday party, but it was special to him. It felt intimate to him, and it felt like a slice of life he didn't know he needed.

You often tease that it's the only picture you have of him smiling, but that's not true. You have hundreds of pictures with you both, but he's a lot more picky with the pictures he keeps.

This picture is his favourite because it was taken without either of your knowledge. It was raw, not staged. Artemis took the picture after sneaking into the house. She originally wanted to use it as blackmail to extort money out of him, but you idiots were too in love to notice or really even care if you got leaked to the others, so she simply left and sent the picture to the group chat with a vomiting emoji.

He can see the unfiltered adoration on your face and the lovesick grin you gave him. It felt special to him, and it continued to feel special every time he saw it.

You both were breaking away from a kiss. Your hand cradled his face gently, and his arms seemed to be drawing you in by your waist. You were mimicking his Red Hood suit with a leather jacket, black cargo pants, and a Red Hood shirt that you modified to have a hood. He remembers calling you a copycat with a huge smile.

"That is none of your goddamn business."

Jason said as he took both his wallet and his picture back. Dick gave him a grin that made him know he was in trouble. Dick was going to find out one way or another. Jason rolled his eyes. Dick said smoothly,

"I'll hunt them down."

Jason shook his head. Good luck finding you. You live like a ghost. He doubts even he could find anything about you.

"Good luck finding them. There is nothing on file for them anywhere."

He cursed under his breath when he heard your special knocking pattern. Dick practically ran to the door, but Jason was faster. He managed to hit Dick over the head with a frying pan like a cartoon character.

"Are you okay, sugar bear?"

Not really. Jason was wrestling with his brother now, but he called out,

"I'm fine, munchkin. Taking care of business."

You knew what that meant and started to walk away. Until Dick was thrown through the wall and nearly knocked you down. You eyed the grinning man as Jason groaned. Dick always gets what he wants in the end, no matter what.

"You must be the lover."

Dick said as he stood up and brushed off the drywall on him. You went to stand by Jason with a frown. Jason swings an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him in a protective way. He really doesn't trust Dick with you.

You gave him a cheek kiss and asked,

"What's wrong, sugar bear? Is he dangerous?"

How do you not know the Wayne family? Well, you don't live in Gotham. You live in a neighbouring city, but it's not a long drive, so you always drive to see your sugar bear.

"You have no idea. I don't know what he's going to do with this knowledge."

You kissed him quickly and cuddled into his side. He always makes you feel protected and safe. You will be protected from Dick until Jason's dying breath.

"I'll keep it a secret if I know more."

Dick said confidently. He's a man of his word, and so were you.

"What questions?"

You assume the basic, "how did you meet," but instead you got,

"Why do you have a ring?"

You look at your hand with a fond smile. It wasn't anything fancy; simply a silver banded ring with a small emerald in the middle. You smiled,

"It's my promise ring. Jason has a matching one."

Jason hesitated before pulling out the necklace that held his ring. He didn't want it to break or for any villain to find out about you. He keeps it tucked away safely as a necklace and under his Red Hood gear.

Dick looked offended. How has he never noticed? He was surprised and hurt by the lack of trust. He thought Jason would at least tell him about you.

"When did you start dating?"

You smiled up at Jason. You were happily tucked under his arm and into his side. It gave you confidence.

"It will be our second anniversary in two days."

Jason answered. He's always on top of romantic gestures and dates. He went all out the last anniversary. He brought you to all your favourite spots before ending on a cliffside watching the sunset and cuddling on the blanket he insisted on bringing despite being on a motorcycle and how impractical it was to bring along. He had to fold it at least four times to fit it in his pocket so it didn't get caught in the wheels.

Dick didn't like that answer. Two whole years without ever revealing you to the family. That hurt his big brother ego. He should know everything.

It's none of their business, in Jason's opinion. His love life shouldn't matter to his family. What's the big deal? It's not like he's married.

"How did you meet?"

Your smile turned into a mischievous grin as Jason groaned. It was so awful to him. He felt horrible.

"I accidentally sneaked up on him at an old bookstore, and he judo flipped me in surprise."

You laughed, but Jason's grip on you tightened slightly. He'll never forgive himself for hurting you, even if it was an ice breaker that led to your relationship.

Dick looked at Jason with disapproving eyes and Jason felt the exact same way. He felt terrible for judo flipping you.

"No need to be sad, sugar bear. It led to us."

You took his hand that was resting on your hip and kissed it gently. You lightly squeezed it to reassure that everything is okay.

Dick smiled at the happy couple. Sure, it was unfortunate the way you met, but the love was clearly there, and he was happy that his little brother could finally find peace and love.

[incorrect-batfam-quotes-mostly]

The Batfam but as my stupidest injuries

Bruce: broke his nose playing blindfolded hide and seek with the kids

Dick: under estimated how close a tree was and cartwheeled directly into it

Jason: dropped a medicine ball weight directly on his head while doing squats and got a concussion

Tim: fell all the way down a staircase while running to see a cat

Damian: cut his face open on a rusty swingset after a trick gone wrong

Duke: badly sprained his ankle, jumping off something on a dare

Cass: fell off scaffolding set piece during a performance

Barbara: burnt her hand making bacon when someone else accidentally hit the pan

[literary-dolly]

boxer!jason x fem!reader

“Oh Christ, seriously? That’s what we’re working with?”

“Jay! Stop! I’m actually trying!”

“Trying to break your hand maybe, sweetheart.”

The gym had become somewhat of a second home in yours and Jason’s relationship. It was his pride and joy, besides yourself, of course. The years worth of championship prize money had done nothing but sit in various bank accounts until Jason had brought the cheap, shitty run down old warehouse - nothing but a vision and the grim determination to give back to the streets that had raised him.

And that he had done. The place had become a sprawling hub tucked away in the corner of Crime Alley. A source of pride for the locals. Between running self-defense classes, training the stray juveniles that had been pushed in his direction, and maintaining his own rigorous regime, the majority of your fiancé’s time was consumed by the four walls that surrounded you. He’d hired a few oddballs to help him run the place, paid them under the table to keep them out of trouble - but it did little the ease the stress that the work often hung on his shoulders.

“Y’need to push through as you’re punching,” Jason’s large frame swallows your own, slotting in behind you to face the punching bag. He reaches out to cradle your fist in his palm, using his other hand to guide your hips in the correct movement, “Can’t just wave your hand about and expect it to hurt.”

“I don’t want to hurt people, Jay,” you huff out, blowing a stray piece of hair out of your face. The two of you repeat the motion a few times before he steps back to observe, resting his thumb on his lip with the calculated stare you would expect of a champion.

“Not teaching y’to hurt people,” Jason muses, chuckling at your grimace as he shoots a foot out to knock your stance a little wider, “teaching you to defend yourself.”

You attempt the punch again, a small smile curving on your lips as it hits a little harder than before, “Who’s gonna try and hurt me when I’ve got you?”

“Somebody very fucking stupid,” he pulls your hand (and as a result, you) towards him, pressing chaste kisses to your knuckles one-by-one.

The two of you stay locked in an embrace for a few minutes, the yellowish bulbs above flickering off every so often and leaving the gym washed in nothing other than the pale moonlight. It’s difficult not to admire Jason, his shock of white hair painted to his forehead with sweat, the scars that decorate his nose, cheeks, jaw, casting small shadows dancing over his skin. He’s huge, muscle stacked upon muscle, a web of sinew that moves with all the languid precision of a panther. But he’s so gentle, so attuned to his own strength; when he holds you, it’s with more tenderness than you had thought another human being capable of.

“Yuck, love birds,” Roy’s voice rings out, the jangling of keys rattling in the empty room, “Get a room.”

“This is technically my room, you know?” Jason bites out with a grin, turning to face his friend.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever hotshot. Didn’t realise you were still here. Was about to lock up.”

“We’re comin’ now,” Jason puffs out a soft sigh, groaning when he reaches down to sling his gym bag over his shoulder. His other arm comes to wrap around you, tugging you into his side as you begin your leisurely stroll to the door. Roy offers you a smile and a teasing bow as you pass him.

“Can I tell you a secret, Jay?” You whisper into the hollow of his ear as Roy fiddles with the lock, the nighttime air nipping at your skin.

“Go on.”

“You stink.” You can’t contain your laughter as his face pans to your own, his mouth drawn into a tight line. You know him better though, you know that he’s fighting down a smile.

“Thanks, princess, y’sure know how to charm a guy.”

“Anytime, handsome.”

“God, seriously, have you two heard of inside voices? Like, it’s actually just gross at this point. No respect for others-”

Boxer!Jason you have my heart, my soul, and my whole pussy. Thank you and goodnight. (I did not proofread this but it was burning behind my eyes and I had to release it. I’ll check it for mistakes at some point)

If you liked it, well, like it - a reblog is always appreciated. If you don’t like it, leave me alone.

[orchidsarchives]

Hellloooo- the only thing I wanted to say about Jason Todd is that he is probably actually really playful and fun to be around. Like it's not too much because homeboy is traumatized but is still one of the most playful in the batfam

Like even in his evil voiceless as red hood there were still some playfulness in his tone,I sincerely believe he is more laid back and chill then dick Grayson.

No because this is so true, Jason is definitely super fun and playful!!Also, this just inspired me to make a little list of silly!Jason headcanons, I hope you like them! Enjoy!

- jason is a pretty serious guy when you first meet him, but he’s actually really funny! i think his humour is very dead pan and sarcasm heavy, but he laughs at most things lol

- sometimes, he makes dad jokes and they’re honestly so bad that they’re kinda funny

- i’ve said this before, but i’ll say it again! he definitely uses humour to cope and he makes a lot of death jokes or he just simply says “kill me again” at every minor inconvenience (real)

- he’s really easy to get along with because he’s super laid back and chill

- he also has nicknames for most people (and things) and they’re really dumb, when he uses people’s actual names they’re like oh shit because that means he’s angry

- he has a really contagious laugh, it’s deep and attractive

- BUT sometimes it’s so stupid, like he’s giggling so hard, clutching his sides and hitting people (im guilty of this) and it’s like bro is it really that funny LMAO

- also when he does this type of laugh it’s usually funnier than the joke

- oh and he definitely struggles to get out a joke if he thinks it’s funny, he’s laughing so hard before getting to the punchline and you’re just staring at him like man finish the sentence please

- i genuinely think he makes commentary when he’s fighting someone on patrol

- he’s very chatty once you get know him

- his voice gets a little higher pitched when he talks to kids and animals, he baby talks to cats (but only when no one is around)

- also cat memes.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Few things: I saw a retelling of this post that’s like, what if the Wayne’s had a show like the Kardashians, except what if WB!R was in it! Just imagine them lingering in the background, making jumpscares and memes, and not to mention the Batfam having to pretend like after this they aren’t gonna ignore R. R uses this to their advantage and makes sure to act extra nerdy and force information onto the family, for funsies!!

(How the reader looks at the camera when the cameraman faces her.)

Keeping up with the Wayne family would have one season, not because the show was bad or anything, but because neither the cameraman nor the director could handle the Waynes. They could not keep up, but the person who really did steal the show was definitely Reader. She is so awkward in front of the camera; it's honestly hilarious. There are five-minute videos on YouTube of Reader just being confused in the background or being in the confessionals, showing off her Pokémon gym badge collection.

Like, Bruce and Dick could be in a heated argument, and the cameraman will just pan off to Reader in the background, who is on her phone, not even contributing to the argument. Trying to pull them back, she'll just wave, give the camera a bright smile, and go back to whatever she's doing. It feels like drama could be happening in the Wayne house, and Reader is off doing God knows what. She'll be in the confessionals hating on the Batfam and just spreading misinformation: "I really don't like Damian's animals. Don't tell him I said that, though, but I think we need to get rid of the turkey. But that didn't come from me; that came from Tim."

She just actively distances herself from the fight between Damian and Tim; she's over there with the cameraman because she does not want to get hit with a stray punch. She doesn't think she's interesting enough to have segments about herself or like a full episode about her, which is wrong, because she is. When the camera crew asked to follow her, she's just like, "Oh, you guys wouldn't want to. I'm pretty lame; I would just bore you."

In the director's words, she is "the sweetest Wayne on set." She has no clue what's going on, but that's the reason why people draw attention to her. I can just imagine Wb!Reader having nothing to say in the confessionals, talking about their OC lore: "Why do they have so much trauma?" someone shooting the scene will ask. "Well, why not?" The Waynes will pretend to acknowledge her, but she knows better.

But now Reader's face turned into a meme because Dick said something absolutely crazy to Jason, and the camera pans to Wb!Reader, eyes wide, mouth open. Now it's all over Gotham Twitter; she accidentally made a whole fan club cult, but that mostly ignored member becomes the most popular.

[wolfboy-tobi]

Can’t feel the Heat

Danny can’t feel extremely hot things.

Danny Fenton x Jason Todd but other then that.

Edited: February 11, 2025

Danny could not feel something that was hot. Like extremely hot. He didn’t notice until one day when he was 16, trying to catch a pan that had pizza bagels before they hit the floor and it didn’t hurt him. Just barely warm.

Danny was very confused because they should be hot right? It just came out of the oven. He could feel the warmth of the oven so it definitely was on at some point and his pizza bagels definitely were cooked.

He got his sister Jazz to hold a pizza bagel to make sure he wasn’t imagining anything— cue the screams and cursing of Daniel Fenton's full name and a lot of trial and error to find out he can’t feel the extreme heat of anything.

The list includes things as small as candle flames, stove tops, blowtorch, and things as big as the actual sun (that one took some help from some Ancient beings.) he was able to just lay in it and not burn to an absolute crisp.

So when he left home at 18 to go to a college in Gotham New Jersey, since it was the only place willing to give him a full scholarship plus a monthly allowance he took it and ran.

It did take him a while to adjust to the fact that some of the things he does outside of Amity park aren’t normal to other people such as grabbing a hot pan out the oven with his bare hands.

The first time it happened was when he moved into a place that was affordable and not that far from campus with a full kitchen and spacious living— he really wanted to cook.

Cue in his super hot roommate/landlord—Jason just staring at him like he was fully insane before slapping the tray out of his hand grabbing his hands to run them under cool running water. Yelling at him slightly, asking him a million questions before realizing his hands aren’t red or blistered his hands are actually fine. But that didn’t make any sense to Jason. The pan was hot and the oven was still on from what he could see.

Jason grabbed the pan slightly off the floor just to make sure and hissed when it hurt him slightly. Danny immediately grabbed his hand and placed them under the water, scolding him this time.

Danny was crying inside though because Jason made him drop the freshly cooked chicken nuggets on the floor and that was just cold.

Jason figures out some time later after he ordered take out for the both of them that this cute guy he let move in since he needed a good cover story and to lay low from his suspecting family and the other mob bosses that are trying to find him out. Was some type of meta human because he didn’t have oven mitts on, he just grabbed a hot pan and it didn’t burn him.

Jason decided to keep him around after that, Danny was happy he got food and that Jason was paying for it.

Also if you use this in fanfic let me know please!!

I want to read them!

[babiestbubbles]

Talia and Dick Drabble

Only thought, Talia al Ghul and Dick Grayson having their casual hatred for each other. Like, she moves in and she's a silly w/ Jason and Damian but she and Dick just have this :squints:  :squintsfurther: dynamic 

and they don't like, actively hate each other or are cruel, but there's this kind of underlying disdain 

And then one day, Dick has like, a horrid day

I'm talking, fucked up on patrol last night, got benched from patrol tonight, bombed a test in school, and got hit with like 4 quips about his dead parents for no reason other than Middle school cruelty 

So he's like, guttered in the trenches of hell and Bruce, well meaning and loving as he may be, has no idea how to handle it. Dick is like, lashing out every time anyone approaches. He's isolating, cooped up. And this spans for like 3 days.

By the third day they've learned to leave him alone, to not engage, because if they so much as stare at him for too long, he'll bolt, even if it means sacrificing a meal in the process.

He doesn't eat any of the food left outside his door either. 

Everyone's concerned. No one knows what to do. Bruce is at wit's end.

And then Talia, in all her motherly understanding glory, tells him to take the boys out. To get out of the house, give Alfred errands to run. Empty the manor sans her and Dick for the day.

And Bruce looks at her like she's asked him to hold a knife to her throat. He's painfully confused how sticking a moody dick with his least favorite person in the world, will at all work in her favor.

But she begs him to trust her, and he does.

And to his credit, he more than obliges to her request. Quickly fabricating a 3-day "necessary" outing across the country. Clad with two eager tag-alongs and a knowing Alfred. He worries his lip, concerned that Dick will take this as further rejection, carefully studying his blank expression as he and Talia stand beside the Jet. Poised to wish them a farewell.

But it's Talia who picks up the almost imperceptible exhale of relief when the doors shut. Effectively sealing off Dick from the one source of insufferable monitoring he'd been suffocating in for 3 days now.

The result is instant. By the time an hour has passed since Bruce's departure, Dick seems practically back to himself. Wandering around the manor, though uncharacteristically wordless, with a spring in his step and a passion that had been long missed.

But Talia knew better than to get excited in the face of progress. She had to remain calm, unbothered. Let Dick come to her. Or at least settle into his new space with her alone. 

This was the first time the two had been entirely alone, so she had to upkeep her façade of normalcy. She made it a point to remain in open spaces all of the time. Doing paperwork at the grand dining table, rather than cooped up in Bruce's office. Preparing food loudly in the kitchen. Allowing for the clattering of pots and pans, the whoosh of a running tap Alfred never let carry on for more than a minute drag on for ten, fifteen.

The manor may have been empty, but Talia made it a point to fill the house with life.

And Dick, ever the victim of curiosity, hardly let her efforts go to waste. She'd spot him, like a shadow, peeking behind walls and pillars, watching her. Observing. 

He'd seen her do all of these things before of course.  But that had been for Jason and Damian. For her children. The ones she wanted. The ones she loved.

He supposed it was only natural that she'd keep up her actions, even in temporary absence of her kin. But there was a strange pang in his chest as he observed her. 

A mother in her element. Carefully preparing dinner, even in her lonesome. Her every move dripping with love and passion, intent. She moved with intent.

It was the same way B moved in the field. He never wandered. Never hesitated. He walked like he was going somewhere. 

And she worked as if she had someone to attend to. A hungry child eagerly awaiting their dinner. 

A heavy twisted emotion reverberated in Dick's chest and he had no idea why. 

He retreated back to his room that night. Only daring to inch his way back to the kitchen when he was certain she was asleep.

He found the kitchen spotless when he returned, and it twist something awful in his chest. Of course she hadn't left anything for him. He wasn't her son and he hadn't even had the courtesy to come down and eat with her. He didn't deserve whatever it is she had made, no matter how good it smelled. 

He tried to bite back the sliver of hope in his chest as he opened the fridge. A tiny piece of him holding out hope that she'd at least had the fleeting pity to leave him some leftovers. But any spark of hope he'd had was quickly crushed as he stared back at nothing but produce and other staples. Not a hint of cooked food in sight.

He sighed, biting back the wretched unwanted tears welling up and resigned himself to whatever he could muster in the next 15 minutes, before his appetite was thoroughly purged by disappointment and self pity.

He picked up some 2 day old leftovers Bruce has messily shoved into the back of the fridge, just out of Alfred's sight, and retreated to the microwave. Not caring enough to even take whatever it was out of the container. 

When he opened the microwave, Dick nearly dropped the stupid container. 

Sitting there, innocently wrapped in a lining of plastic wrap, was a plate of food. 

Dick of course, wasn't stupid enough to assume it was for him, and picked it up, trying to squish down the spark of hope that had returned to his chest. It was only as he turned to place it in the fridge, that he noticed the bright green sticky note placed on top of it.

In pretty scrawled cursive it read.

"I thought you might get hungry so I left this for you."

It didn't mean anything, Dick told himself. It was the bare minimum. Common curtesy, the very same that he'd lacked the effort to extend to her earlier. 

That was all it was. It was hardly a heavy task to set aside a plate of food for the only other person in the house. He begged his chest not to swell with desire. With hope, that he may be extended the same luxuries as Jason and Damian. 

The one thing Bruce was never able to buy him. Never able to *give* him.

The gift of being a child. The luxury of being loved and cared for, in that intimate suffocating, insufferable way that only a mother could provide. 

Dick didn't want that anyways. Bruce was a helicopter parent enough. He didn't need Talia and her ever present questions on top of that.

He'd seen the way she interrogated Jason.  Every time he came home. Incessantly badgering him with questions. Everything from "How was school" to "Do you have any homework" and "Did you like the lunch i packed you?"

Dick didn't want that. He liked his freedom, enjoyed his independence. All Talia's care would do it chain him down.

So he warmed up the food. Shoving down the way it tasted painfully familar. The paprika, allspice, and cinnamon dredging up was Dick was certain were unwanted memories. Sarma, and Christmas. Horko jabuka and chilly Gotham nights. 

…

Masali thud and his mother, after the boys he'd been practicing with laughed in his face.

Dick hadn't realized he was crying until he was hiccuping between bites. 

*Dick missed his mother.*

He hadn't realized it a first. Genuinely. He'd been convinced his temperament was bitterness over being banned from patrol and annoyance at middle schooler’s petty attempts at insults. But it wasn't the things that hurt him that had left Dick moody and incapacitated.

It was the lack of comfort. The absence of soft warm arms to lick his wounds in. The hollow emptiness of Bruce's shallow attempts of comfort and the freezing chill of he empty room. *That* is what had torn Dick apart.

That is what had left him miserable and hostile. Desperate to reject a world that had clearly rejected him.

Dick harshly scrubbed at the tears dripping down his face and glance down at his plate. Surprised to find it empty and unsure of how long ago he'd finished his food.

He shakily deposited it in the sink. Grabbing a glass of water and preparing himself for the miserable journey back to his dark empty room.

Yet, as Dick stood in the hallway, not two steps from his destination, he noticed something.  The door, to Bruce and Talia's room, was ajar. It wasn't wide open, no neither Dick nor Talia was stupid enough to think that would be effective, but it was definitely ajar. At least 3 or 4 inches lay between the door and it's frame. 

To anyone else, anyone not raised by the world’s greatest detective and worst paranoiac, it would've been nothing. 

But Dick saw it for what it was. An Invitation.

He was no stranger to climbing into Bruce's bed after nightmares. Blindly wandering through the very same hallway with ghosts of tears in his eyes, just like now. But he hadn't done that in years. Since long before Talia moved in. 

On any other night, Dick would've stared the invitation in the face and declined. He would have strode into his room in disgust, appalled at Talia's audacity to try and reach out the child she clearly despised.

But something about tonight, something about Dick's brokenness, and the cinnamon and clove still wrapped around his teeth, drew him to the door.

Dick took slow shaky steps toward it. Ready to bolt at the sight of life. But it never came

Either Talia was truly asleep, or she was a hell of an actor, because as Dick approached the door not only did he fail to hear so much as a shift in the covers, but his carefully attuned ears also heard her soft even breaths.

As he neared the door, hand still too afraid to reach for the handle, his heart stopped.

He hadn't seen it from so far down the hallway, but now that he was close enough to peer inside the room, it was clear as day. Talia has left the nightstand lamp on.

It was meaningless. Tears pooled in Dicks eyes and sniffled, frustrated at his body's lack of cooperation.

It didn't mean anything. She left the door open on accident and forgot to turn off the light. She must've been really tired, she did a lot of paperwork today.

But Dick couldn’t bring himself to believe his pitiful lie for even a moment.

He was just too scared to entertain the truth.

Bruce slept with the light off every night. He couldn't sleep with lights on in his room, it's part of the reason Dick started sleeping in his own room actually. Dick was the exact opposite. Dick was terrified of the dark.

It was a bit ironic. Night stalking, crime fighting, fearless vigilante Robin, was afraid of the dark. But he couldn't help it. There was something about that pitch black emptiness. The unknowing aspect of darkness, that terrified him. 

Dick had never told a soul. He told Bruce he just preferred his own room, told Alfred the night light was a saftey measure, to ward off emergency intruders. Told Talia nothing at all, he didn't owe her an explanation and he'd rather die that willingly admit weakness to her.

But she'd noticed. Despite his bitterness, and his distance, and his childish effort to conceal his phobia, she had noticed. The blinding lights left on in the kitchen and the hallway, hell the entire rest of the manor, could be disregarded. She'd left them on knowing someone else was in the house to turn them off, and knowing if he didn't, they's shut off on their own eventually.

But to leave on *her* bedside Lamp?

In *her* room?

It was a sign. Another invitation. The final tug Dick needed to yank open the door and stumble his way into the room. Hiccuping with harsh, painful sobs.

(Different from my usual content but I love them, lmk if i should make this into a fic)

[dxxdhood]

take care

pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

summary: when you have a bad day at work, jason knows just the way to help you unwind.

tags: smut (18+), dom!jason todd, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, massages

wc: 2.1k

No matter what you try to tell yourself, you can’t stop crying. Ever since you woke up this morning, it feels like life has been throwing you the worst possible things to deal with– people being casually rude to you, your boss expecting unreasonable amounts of work done. After finally falling into bed, you completely lose it, sobbing so hard your body starts shivering. 

Jason won’t be back for another couple of hours at least, and usually that’s enough time for you to unwind from work, but today you can’t stomach the thought of doing anything. Instead, you slip into sleep while the tears are still fresh on your face. 

There’s a warm pat on your shoulder, and for a second, the bliss of sleep follows you from your nap into reality. But all too soon, you remember the day you’ve had and the tenseness from earlier sinks back into you.

“Hey,” Jason whispers, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah– I’m,” You shake your head, stumbling across the half of the blanket that’s made it on the floor as you walk to the bathroom. “I’m just really tired. I’m going to shower, I forgot to earlier.”

You catch Jason’s concerned look from the corner of your eye, but you try not to stress about how you’re worrying him. As soon as the door closes behind you, you grip the bathroom counter and look at your reflection.

You’re so exhausted you look sick, but you don’t want to bother Jason with your own worries right now. When he’s not on patrol, he’s always researching more ways he can stop crime and minimize conflict. Really, he doesn’t have a ton of time of his own to relax, so you really shouldn’t burden him with your feelings. 

After a half-hearted shower, you toss on a T-shirt and shorts before walking towards the living room. Jason’s lounging on the couch, and he waves you over to watch a movie– Pride & Prejudice 2005.

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” You say, trying for cheerful.

“Just thought we could use something familiar,” He says, placing a blanket on top of you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m still going to need you to explain half of what’s going on, I can’t keep up with all the characters.”

“That’s why we’re watching it,” He kisses your cheek. “I just tricked you into listening to me ramble about my favorite book.”

You giggle, and for a second you almost feel light enough to enjoy the moment. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re forgetting something, though, and when it hits you, you nearly kick the blanket off of you.

“Shit! I didn’t make anything for dinner!”

“Hey, hey,” Jason moves his hand to rub the back of your neck. “It’s okay, I got something going in the oven.”

You settle back into your place on the couch, but you feel terrible. It was your turn to make dinner today since you got off your shift first. You can’t believe you let yourself fall asleep instead! Jason doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he just cuddles into your side further as you both watch the camera pan around Elizabeth Bennett. 

Suddenly, it hits you. You know how to make up for worrying him and forgetting about dinner. At first, you subtly try and bring your hand under the blanket, feeling around until you find his thigh. When you make contact, Jason gives you a look, trying to gauge whether or not it was intentional. You give him a cheeky smile as you continue.

Jason settles into the couch, just laying back and allowing you to do what you want, still figuring out why you’re suddenly in the mood. You run your nails against the inside of his thigh, lightly at first before digging in just a little, knowing he likes it a little rough.

You finally palm him through his shorts and he lets out a small gasp. His shoulders seem to fall back and you swear you can see some of the tension Jason always carries around leaving him. Carefully, you wrap your hand around his cock, and you lazily stroke him through the fabric as he exhales through his nose. You’re about to crawl under the blanket to take off his shorts when Jason grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you up to face him.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.”

“Huh? Don’t you want me to,” you gesture to his lap instead of letting your words trip you up. “I mean, I just started now, so I should really–”

“What are you talking about?” Jason shakes his head, his fluffy hair shifts with him.

“Look, I–” You massage your forehead, trying to work through some of your anxiety. “I was going to do something for you, Jason, so just let me–”

Jason slides his hand from your shoulder across your arm until he’s supporting your hand, bringing it in so he can kiss your knuckles.

“You’re always doing stuff for me,” He whispers. “Let me return the favor.”

The speed at which you break eye contact and begin fiddling with the blanket speaks volumes to Jason. You gulp as he lowers your hand, careful not to overstep. You know that if you say the word, the two of you can stop and go back to watching the movie in front of you. But still, no matter how much residual stress keeps bothering you, you want to know what Jason has in mind for you.

“Yes,” you say.

“What?” Jason leans in, not having heard you the first time.

“Yeah–” you try to fight against your own embarrassment at accepting the invitation. “I’d like you to… take care of me.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence before Jason bursts into giggles. You have the sense to feel offended, but he quickly wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“God, lighten up, will you? You sound so serious, it’s not that big a deal.”

Immediately you fail at keeping a straight face, and although you really don’t want to give him the win, you end up letting out a snort.

“Alright, come on,” He taps your back. “Lay on your stomach.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you’re already maneuvering into position, tossing the blanket off the couch in the process.

“Just trust me, okay? Relax, I’ve got you.”

Jason’s hands are warm when they reach your back. You take in a small inhale, not quite sure what you were expecting. He moves his hands softly at first, just stroking the skin of your back and shoulders to get you accustomed to the feeling. As soon as you start getting comfortable, he starts applying the slightest bit of pressure, kneading at your shoulder muscles.

A sound escapes you that you’re not proud of, and though you’re certain Jason is smirking, you refuse to turn around and see it. Sighing into the couch cushions, you close your eyes and let yourself fade into the feeling. Jason moves downward, massaging your back in slow motions, carefully running his knuckle down the small of your back. It’s incredible, more than, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.

“You can press harder, you know.”

He huffs, “See, I was thinking that, but if I hurt you right now I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”

Jason has a talent for saying things like that, things that make you melt no matter what’s running through your head. To his credit, he tries, kneading out all the knots across your back, but still with lighter pressure than you would’ve given to yourself.

“Is that alright?” He asks. “You want me to keep going?”

You hum, already starting to sink into the feeling. Jason continues, hands roaming all across your back. Your eyes start to close and you can feel yourself slipping into sleep before a hand starts to move down your body, gently feeling up your ass.

“Okay?” Jason says.

“Okay–” and as soon as you respond, he kneads the sore muscles in your upper thighs and ass, and although it causes a part of you to completely melt into the cushions, a part of you feels like you’ve just had a fire lit within you.

“Jason,” you start. “If you keep going, I might… uh–”

“No, you can say it,” he whispers as he leans in, covering your body with his own so you can feel his breath across your cheek. “Tell me what I do to you.”

“Shit–” you bury your head into the couch, but Jason carefully sets hand on your head and helps you make eye contact with him. 

“Talk to me,” his voice drops low. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

He places a hand on top of one of yours resting in front of you. You flip your hand over and interlock your fingers with his. A barely audible exhale escapes from Jason as he gives your hand a squeeze.

“I want you to finger me.”

He’s smirking as he kisses your cheek, his lips trailing lower to your jawline before you even have time to register his movements. It’s like a switch has flipped in him, like he’s finally allowing himself to let loose for your sake. Like all he ever wants is to make you feel good if only you’ll allow him to.

The hand not holding yours moves from your ass to your inner thigh, softly rubbing circles only centimeters away from your slit. He catches you closing your eyes again, getting lost in the comfort around you and he gives your upper thigh a pinch. 

You give a small shout, and Jason uses the opening to slot two fingers in your mouth. He doesn’t even need to give the command, you’re already sucking him on instinct. Always efficient, Jason unclasps your hands to reach for the lube in the side table drawer while you’re distracted. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Because I can keep going if you’re not ready–” he pretends, as if he didn’t have a perfect view of your signal.

You nod, but your head is still mostly shoved against the surface of the couch.

“Jason! Fucking go!”

He snickers as lubes his fingers before gently working one in. How typical, even when he’s being nice, he still can’t help but be a tease. His pace is slow but thorough, working himself all the way into your heat before sliding out, only to rush back whenever you seem to get used to the sensation. 

Already being relaxed from the massage must be getting to you, because as soon as you stretch to accommodate his second finger, your breathing starts to quicken. He speeds up slightly, moving to kiss the spot between your jaw and neck, nibbling a small mark despite knowing it’s in the perfect spot to be seen.

He finally starts hitting the spot inside of you where he’s needed, and you almost yelp in relief.

“Faster,” you sigh, and gratefully, Jason listens. He quickens his pace, hitting inside of you with accuracy, and leaning on top of you now to better the angle. You can feel the planes of his chest against your back, and the warmth radiating off of him causes your face to heat up.

“Ah–” you start, and Jason is able to get it out before you can.

“You’re close?” 

This time when you nod your head, he accepts your answer and continues the same speed and intensity. He uses his other hand to grip you by the shoulder and force your head up so he can hear your gasps. Jason moves his head close to your ear again, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he whispers, “Come for me.”

You groan, naturally wanting to bury your cries into the cushions, but Jason’s grip stops you. The casual show of his strength has you thrusting back towards his fingers, and he dutifully works you through your orgasm until you’re finished.

He flips you so you don’t end up falling asleep with your airflow cut off, and under his observant gaze you finally stop trying to cover yourself up. You flash your teeth, and Jason rubs the curve of your cheek with his thumb before slipping off the couch to get a towel to clean up.

[hollow-writing-place]

The Ghost King and The Firecracker

Chapter 4: Out of the pan, into the... fire?

Word Count: 2830

Masterlist for this work/info about the fic

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Chapter Summary:

A fight, discovery, and tense situations.

Warning: I don't think it's too bad, but the fight scene gets a bit intense. Dick is pretty aggressive (he thinks Danny killed his brother), and Danny has that trauma around electricity. If anyone thinks there's something i need to add a warning for, please tell me!!!

------Last Episode------

'And finally, someone above them in the rafters of the warehouse screams, and three shadowy figures drop to the ground behind Danny, one of them charging Danny immediately, weapon crackling with electricity.'

-------

Danny snaps from his trance, looking away from the electrically changed batons. He throws his hands up, trying to ease the tension in the air. Despite his ghostly form nullifying most of the heat, it feels stifling now.

Nightwing has not stopped stalking forward, but Batman is still as a statue in front of him, Red Robin at his side, silent.

“Hold on! This isn't what it looks like!” He calls desperately to them. “I can expl- ack!” He cuts himself off to dodge a swing by Nightwing, jerking his full body to the side to avoid the arcs of electricity.

“What is there to explain? It looks cut and dry to me.” Red Robin speaks up, his voice cold and startlingly empty of emotion.

Oh ancients, this all did have to look pretty bad. I mean, from the perspective of someone who didn’t know what was going on, Danny just coerced Jason to throw himself on a bed of coals. And the fact it was clear Danny wasn't human... Well, he'd jump to mind-control or something just as sinister if he were the bats. 

Danny has to turn his attention to Nightwing to dodge another strike, turning intangible so the escrima sticks pass through him. There’s a disconcerting tingling left in place after it passes through, and Danny shudders.

Nightwing makes another wordless snarl at him, lunging again.

He needs to explain. He needs to defend himself!

“It’s not like that! If you’d just liste-”

Nope. He has to instinctively bring an arm up, catching Red Robin's bo staff against his forearm with a grunt. It hurts, sure, but not as much as another ghosts attack would.

Not as much as the electricity from Nightwing would.

This is Jason’s family, he can’t fight back. He’s too used to fighting ghosts, and has trouble keeping that strength back. Switching back to human for more managable strength is obviously not an option, for identity reasons if not just for his safety. Overall, there's too much of a risk of hurting them. 

In that same vein, he can’t fly up or stop defending the bonfire and prevent himself from being hurt. If they interrupt Jason while he’s transforming and getting used to his ghost half fully for the first time, the consequences could be disastrous. Like, actually dead-dead Jason.

Danny had seen de-stabilization before, and the idea of it happening to Jason made his stomach roll.

Up against two of Gotham’s best fighters and her best strategist, all of whom he couldn’t fight back against? Well, Danny knew immediately he was dealt the worst hand. Still, he had to try. Jason needed him. The thought alone strengthened his resolve.

The dance was simple. He would switch between intangible and physical to block each attack depending on who it was. If he thought about it almost like a video game, it helped distract from the sheer terror he was feeling at the situation. He stays physical to bodily stop Red Robin from getting too close to the fire and goes intangible so that Nightwing’s electric escrima couldn’t touch him.

He hated how badly he was trembling at the just the memory of lightning racing over his body, arcing through his bones, cold and lonely and dying. He couldn’t let Nightwing land a hit.

Thankfully, Nightwing was so wholeheartedly focused on attacking him that he didn’t think to split from Red Robin and draw his attention too much more than it already was. If they broke apart and went to opposite sides of the bonfire, Danny, and Jason, were screwed. He couldn’t be in two places at once. This fight had to stay close. But, between the two of them, he completely lost sight of Batman.

He realizes his mistake when he hears something skid across the concrete the his far side. He turns to look so fast his head spins a little.

Batman has hooked a chunk of old rebar around some of the wood in the pile, using it to drag and fling the lit chunks away from the main stack, sending sparks and burning wood across the warehouse.

Danny’s eyes go wide with panic.

If he breaks up the bonfire, the flames won’t be so concentrated. If the fire isn’t as big and hot, it could ruin everything. Danny doesn't know much about fire cores, but he knows a lot about cores needing the right conditions to form. Frostbite gave him an earful when he explained Jason. He has to stop Batman.

Unfortunately, the panic stills him for too long, so as he’s moving to run towards Batman, Nightwing’s escrima comes down on his upper arm. The pain is much more intense than it should be. Stronger. Lightning fills his veins, spreading down his arm and locking his joints.

His jaw falls open of its own accord, and he screams. He manages to hold back a ghostly wail, but it’s a very near thing, and he can feel the strain of holding it back.

He knew staying in his ghost form would have its consequences, he just doesn’t know how he forgot how bad it could be. 

His body jolts and he throws himself as far from the lightning as he can. In doing so, he finds himself cornered against the flames. Backed up to the roar of the fire.

If he flees, he risks Jason’s life, but if he stays, he risks himself.

One is worth much more than the other, so he plants his feet and tries to straighten up. He needs to look strong. He’s supposed to be better. He's the Ghost King for Ancient's sakes. And yet, despite his title, he knows he’s not at his best now.

He hasn’t sparred with anyone in the zone recently, hasn’t kept up with the mock battles. He hasn’t fully come into the power of the Ghost King either. Sure, he's gained some benefits, but it's mostly knowledge and a minor jump in power. As a Halfa, he was already stronger than most ghosts.

Still, he’s considered too young to be truly crowned in ghost years, so the title is his, but most of the big powers are withheld until his body is strong enough to handle all that being king means. Or, rather, until he has no mortal body to worry about.

Nightwing stalks closer on his right, escrima crackling, teeth bared. Batman closes in on his left, fists clenched at his side. And Red Robin stands dead center, bo staff at the ready, whispering commands into his comm unit.

Gritting his teeth, he clutches his useless, numb arm close. He's had worse.

Final stand it is.

---

The fire isn’t burning, or scalding, or anything really.

In fact, it doesn’t feel like fire at all.

Jason had his eyes squeezed shut the second he ran and threw his body onto the platform, but he cracks them open now. Then both fly open, his jaw dropping. He’s just… in the middle of the palettes, all alight, and he’s fine.

More than that, he isn’t achingly cold anymore. He doesn't know what he expected, but for some reason it wasn't this.

Something hungry and wanting in him was filled and contented. He wants to flop down on his back, roll in the fire, revel in the heat that wraps around him like an embrace. He wants to laugh, to smile.

It all just feels... good.

Smoke curls up over his head, stretching into the warehouse rafters, obscuring his view of anything but the flames.

It feels right, like this is all he ever needed. Finally. His skin fits over his bones and the hole in his chest, in his head, is fixed and new.

He thinks he hears something distantly, but the fire eats up anything coherent before it reaches him. And wow, how had he never noticed just how beautiful fire could be? It's so intricate. He could sit and watch it dance forever.

Something creeps over him and he has an overwhelming need to move. It's like an itch at the base of his spine, which makes him frown.

Everything's perfect here. Why is there a creeping feeling coming over him?

He stands taller, clenching and unclenching his fists, and a feeling washes over him, head to toe. It’s almost like rippling water, but of course, it’s not. Instead, he wants to compare it to licking flames, rolling up over his body like those curling fingers of smoke, up up up.

He blinks, and when he opens his eyes next, he is changed. Different.

Everything is lighter. He looks himself over, inspecting the change.

The red hood armor is fitted over him snuggly, but the shape is a bit different. It’s almost melting in places and layered like plate armor. The edges look molten, practically glowing orange-yellow, and the gaps in armor are filled with light.

If he looks closer, the light shifts and flares with the flames around him. It's mesmerizing. It almost gives the illusion he is a being made of flames, piloting a suit of armor.

His leather jacket is absent, and instead, a heavy cape is fastened around his neck, flowing out behind him and feathered with tongues of flame like wings. His boots are sturdy as ever, and shine like metal. Wrought iron trims some plates, winding up through his armor.

He feels… strong.

I mean, he knows he’s strong physically, but something about this change makes him feel sturdy. Like he’s tethered to the ground and steady. Unmoving, if he wanted to be.

There’s a weight on his back, under that cape, that is subconsciously forcing him to shift his weight. He reaches behind him curiously, eye widening further as he pulls a properly massive sword from a sheath beneath his cape.

Despite the fact he’ll clearly need both hands to properly wield this claymore, it’s lightweight in his hands. The iron shines with the light of the fire, and he tests his grip.

A rush of power washes him over, nearly bowling him over, and he has the sudden realization that this… this change and all it comes with… Whatever he’s been bestowed, it is important.

He’s preparing to sheath it again when he hears something.

No, someone.

They cry out in pain, and there’s an edge like ice breaking, like snow roaring down the mountainside in an avalanche. The sound is horrifyingly familiar in nature, and every muscle in his body tenses.

He blinks, and the fire that was once opaque and blocking his view seems to have cleared. He still feels it lapping at his skin, so he knows it's not miraculously gone, but he can see. And what he sees enrages him.

Danny, backed up to the fire Jason is in, face scrunched in pain and fear. He’s clutching his arm close, flicking in and out of sight, like he’s warring with himself.

Three people he can’t quite make out are closing in on his friend. That alone has Jason ready to burst from the fire and defend him, but before he can move, he sees another thing. It flickers in his view, but he catches sight of it clearly for just a moment. That moment is more than enough.

A crown of flames frozen into place hovers over Danny’s head.

Jason’s king was hurt. Someone has injured The King, a title that Jason didn’t know could have so much weight until the thought came to him unbidden. He wasn't even sure how he knew this fact so intrinsically, but he knew.

One of the figure makes a move to close in, and

Jason

sees

red.

---

There’s a near animalistic noise from the fire, and a shadow lurches from the pile.

A sword, nearly four feet of solid, gleaming metal slams into the ground, cutting Danny off from the Bats. It embeds itself into the concrete, sending sparks flying. Where it sits, blade sunk into the ground, the concrete of the warehouse has turned molten and pooled into liquid magma rock.

Beside Danny stands… the Red Hood.

Well, maybe not quite the Red Hood as Danny remembers him looking, but so so similar. This person had the same face, red domino mask over the eyes and all. His hair was different, though. Instead of a white strip breaking up deep black curling hair, the strip was black and his hair was platinum white.

“You will not harm him.” comes the voice, grating.

There’s an otherworldly echo and the sound of the crackling fire intensifies, but otherwise, the voice was Jason.

Relief floods Danny, but realization comes quickly after.

He looks over at Jason, eyes getting wider and wider as he drags his gaze across Jason’s new form. The cape, the iron edges to the armor, the sword… Oh shit.

Danny knew he was pretty attached to Jason, had been from the moment he laid eyes on him, but he always thought it was just them being similar kinds of ghosts. Compatible. He never thought… Ancients, no wonder he was so drawn to Jason!

Finding his Fright Knight out in the wild, and long before either of them truly died… The odds were astronomical. How could he begin to try and explain? Did Jason know? Did he feel it too, the connection tying them both together?

He could think about and ponder all of that later when their lives weren’t being threatened. He needed to diffuse this situation, fast.

Smoke pours from behind Jason’s clenched teeth, curling into the air near gracefully. The silence was only broken by the churning blaze behind them, somehow not dying down despite surely having run its fuel supply down by now.

“Hood?” Comes Nightwings hesitant voice.

Jason blinks, refocusing on the three bats. He blinks again, and recognition dawns over his face slowly. He doesn't quite relax, and he certainly does not remove the sword from where it rests, protecting Danny from the bats, but he does straighten up and stop gritting his teeth so harshly. “Dick.” he barks, and Danny winces.

“Now isn’t really the best time for name calling, Hood.” Danny hisses lowly, fighting the urge to inch closer to his Knight.

His words are ignored.

Batman takes a menacing step forward, focusing solely on Danny now.

“What did you do to him?!” He snarls, and Danny flinches back a bit at the fury there.

Jason’s leather gloves creak as his grip tightens on the handle of his sword. “He didn’t do anything to me. It is in your best interest to back the hell up.” Each word is carefully measured and spat out.

“Don’t lie to me.” Batman’s voice is cold. He doesn't step forward but he also doesn't move away.

“Hood? What’s happening?” Nightwing tries again, his voice cracking on the question.

“Stay out of this, Wing. It’s none of your business.”

Red Robin’s face scrunches a bit. “I’d argue against that. If- if you’re in danger-”

Jason groans exasperatedly, and more smoke streams out of his mouth. “Shut up.” He hisses, and Danny can feel his aura spike around him defensively.

Batman’s intense stare hasn’t left Danny’s frozen form. Not how he imagined meeting Jason's family, for sure.

Danny sees him reach for a batarang at the same time Jason does, and they react together. Danny goes intangible long enough to scramble onto Jason’s shoulders, wrapping his ghostly form around Jason like a cat, and Jason moves with him, bringing his sword up to block the both of them.

“What are you doing?” Nightwing yells, but not at them, no. He’s facing Batman now, body shifted just barely like he’s trying to hide Jason and Danny behind him.

The Bat huffs and clenches one of his batarangs tightly in a fist. “Clearly that… being, is threatening Hood. Did you completely miss the color of its eyes? Lazarus Green, Nightwing.”

“But that’s Ja- Hood, Batman. Maybe we should take a moment? Rationalize?” Red Robin speaks up, trying to be the voice of reason he always is.

Neither Nightwing’s or Red Robin’s protests do any good, because Batman’s flinging a batarang at Danny over Jason’s shoulder, and Jason does not seem pleased.

In fact, Danny’s willing to bet if he doesn’t do something, then Jason might actually bring harm to his family. Jason’s Fright Knight instinct is going to override any of his usual inhibitions, which is the last thing he needs. Especially when Jason doesn’t even know what he’s become, when he has no idea how tied to Danny he is.

Danny doesn’t want to be the reason Jason doesn’t have control over himself. He’d already been through enough of that with the Lazarus sickness.

Danny makes a split second decision.

Jason lunges forward with Soul Shredder just as Danny rips a rift into the ground at their feet. The blade never makes contact with Batman, because both Danny and Jason are tumbling haphazardly down into the Ghost Zone too quickly for them to do anything but hold on.

--==--

Notes:

I imagine, further into the future, Jason just has a "self-care day" each month or so where he just curls up in a massive bonfire and relaxes. No one can really bother him because no one can get too close, and he loves his day off.

Also!! I don't think Bruce is a bad guy, and i don't want to portray him as some kind of villain. He still wants to be Jason's dad, but as we all know, he deals with emotions horribly. He believes he just saw his son die and be brought back, again, and something was wrong/he's still in active danger. Jason's off-the-bat combativeness doesn't help the perception. Brucie's gonna make mistakes.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check yes ch 11

masterpost

Jason repressed honest to god giggles until Danny phased them out of the building and to ground level. Then they started running back to where he had left his bike, laughing with adrenaline as Jason’s footsteps beat down on the pavement. They ran through a thick cloud of smoke outside a barbeque place, bathed in spice and meat essence. “The look on his face!” Jason gasped. “Why did that looney tunes plan work?”

“That’s how my battles go,” Danny defended himself, grinning so hard he glowed under the yellow tinted streetlights. Jason wasn’t sure he was actually running, per se. Was he touching the ground? “I do shit like enter video games and physically fight firewalls. You people are not prepared for me.”

“No shit, Bugs Bunny.” Jason snickered and wiped tears of laughter away before he unhooked his helmet from his bike. Danny shied away like he was worried Jason would force him to take head protection. Jason had fought enough of those battles for today, so he let it go when he never would for a normal passenger. After a moment Danny skittered back into grabbing range and Jason jokingly snagged his arm to reel him onto the back of the bike. “Where to, Prince Charming?” he teased.

Danny went stiff and cold behind him, which was really on brand for a corpse. But it also made it very obvious that he was trying to suppress some kind of reaction.

Okay. That nickname was either really good or really bad. Jason kept his body language loose and open, not really concerned but very aware that he did have an interdimensional monster guy on the back of his bike. “Brr,” Jason complained mildly. For real, it was like having a big ice pack pressed up against his back. How did it permeate his leather jacket and layers of tactical material so easily?

“...Sorry,” Danny said, voice flat. He reached out and gripped onto Jason’s front pockets. “Please don’t call me that one, for mysterious reasons.”

“...Alright.” Jason took that on board. He’d stepped near some kind of trigger. He made sure to remember it. “I have questions that are answered by the ‘mysterious reasons’ clause at the end of your sentence. Fair play. Let’s go to the arcade. It’ll take him a while to follow us.” He latched his helmet and kicked up the stand. “Hold on.”

Danny snorted. “Hang on,” he said scathingly, but there was a teasing lilt under the words. “You cannot possibly throw me off. Grungier men than you have tried.” 

Grungier? Not bigger or meaner or whatever? Jason choked down a laugh. Danny sounded so serious about it, too.

“Odd flex.” Jason turned on the engine and started off before Danny could do more than sputter at his deadpan response. They weaved between heavy Gotham traffic, protected from car fumes by Jason’s breathing filters and Danny’s nonchalant attitude regarding reliance on oxygen. 

Click

Danny jerked behind him, a clear indication that he heard the tiny sound of Jason’s helmet mic turning on. 

He hadn’t done that, so the list of suspects was very short. “Hello, Barbie,” he drawled.

Her unfiltered voice rang out in his ear. “Let’s go party,” she dead panned. Danny pressed his palms a little harder into Jason’s stomach in what might have been proprietary. Was he jealous? “Terrible of you to set a fox in the henhouse when I am off work.”

“Dick started it,” Jason whined honestly. He hit the brakes as the light ahead turned a yellow that cast eerie shades across lingering puddles. “I’m just trying to have a nice night out, and he wants to bother us.”

A female voice faintly floated across the background of Barbara’s call. “Poor baby,” Babs cooed mockingly. “Are you really so innocent? No instigation?”

“Not a word,” Jason lied. He put his feet down to brace the bike. Danny was the weirdest passenger he’d ever had, by virtue of being weightless and having no wind resistance. It was like driving alone except that there were hands on his front and a face pressed against his left shoulder blade.

Someone laughed in the distance. “I want to play,” Barbie sighed. It came across crystal clear into his ear.

“On my team?” Jason asked hopefully. 

She snorted. “Depends on how the chips are falling when I’m done with this presentation. Right now, it’s two to one, isn’t it? Dick’ll look for someone to play on his team before too long. It won’t be me, at least for an hour.”

Information was never free. “Thank you,” Jason said, already mentally allotting a couple hours next Saturday to moving heavy things around the Clock Tower. “Damn decent of you. Wanna say hi to Danny?”

Babs paused. “He’s not wired in, is he?”

The light turned green. Jason kicked up and breezed through the intersection. “No, but he can hear you.”

Danny’s chest became a little more solid against Jason’s back and he- slithered? Was he slithering?

“Hello, Barbie,” he said, politely and somehow inside Jason’s helmet.

Jason was very still. Wow. Bad. His hindbrain did not like this. 

“Call me Barbara, please,” she said. “Danny, right? Are you boys having fun at Dick’s expense today?”

“I dumped water on him,” Danny said happily.

There was a long moment. “How?” Barbie was hiding it, but she was a little disturbed. Jason got it. Dickie was one of the best in the game. 

“I phased through the ceiling when he was distracted, talking to a waiter.”

“Ah, you can fly. That’s pretty ghostly.”

Danny made a grunt. “Well, yeah, but actually I went zero gravity and made it look like I was lizard-crawling on the ceiling with glowing eyes.”

“...Can you hand the helmet back to Jay?”

“I’ll just back out,” Danny said, and slid back down Jason’s back. He suppressed a shiver. It was like- it was like being partially overlapped with some kind of cooled gel. It wasn’t just on his skin, it was sliding easily against the first layers of muscle or something underneath.

‘Interdimensional monster,’ Jason reminded himself. ‘Hot interdimensional monster.’ He put his questions away for later. “He’s fabulous, right?” he drawled. “We’re about to our destination, if it’s alright to get off the line.”

“Stay safe out there, loverboy.” Babs cut the call abruptly.

“She seems nice,” Danny lied. Or maybe he was just a bad judge.

“She will become our enemy real quick if it’s more amusing to her,” Jason corrected. “She’s a terrible enemy to have. I hope her date goes so well she doesn’t check in.”

Danny sulked against his back and slid his cold fingers through Jason’s jacket to rest of his skin directly. Jason suppressed a yelp, barely. “Boring,” he moaned. “If she’s powerful, she should fight me.” “Don’t buy that trouble,” Jason muttered. Jeeze. This dead guy had no self preservation instinct.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ reading between the lines

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SUMMARY ↳ Jason Todd loves nothing more than the sight of you with a book. The book's tension builds, your fingers gripping the pages a little tighter as the protagonist faces a crucial moment. You barely register the sound of the water shutting off or Jason stepping out of the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his waist, shaking his head with an amused smirk. He slowly takes steps toward you, right up until his knees hit the mattress. He leans down, his arms coming to cage you. Finally, you really take notice of him. “Hi, Jay.” pairing: jason todd x fem!reader warnings: smut tags/notes: oral sex (fem receiving), domestic fluff, jason might be ooc sorry, lets just pretend its a less traumatized version of him wc: 2k

You think Jason has a thing for you and books.

You mean together, of course. Jason Todd’s affinity for literature is well known, and so is his affection for you. But you can see the way his lips curl up when he sees you curled up on the couch reading, wrapped in his favorite blanket.

The soft glow of the lamp casts a warm light over the room, highlighting the way Jason leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. He’s always been drawn to those quiet moments, watching you lose yourself in a world of words.

“Is that another tragic romance?” he teases, stepping further into the room. You glance up, catching his playful gaze.

“Not as tragic as your face.”

“Ouch,” he groans dramatically, clutching his chest. He falls onto you, plopping his full body weight and nearly crushing you. He buries his face in your neck and presses a chaste kiss there.

You huff and half-heartedly shove him away. “You’ll make me lose my place!”

“That’s why you should use those bookmarks I got you, honey.” He lifts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Bookmarks are for amateurs, Jay.” You gesture to the stack of books on the coffee table, a mixture of dog-eared pages and hastily folded corners.

He grimaces at the sight. “I should break up with you.”

“Who would read to you, then?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Touché.” He presses a quick kiss to your lips and shifts so as to pull you into leaning on him. He wraps the blanket around both of you, plucking the book out of your hands in spite of your protests. “Can’t let you ruin this anymore. Lemme read to you, hm?”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “You can’t do it justice.”

“I’ve got the voice of a poet,” he retorts, arm wrapping around you. His voice is low, intimate and for your ears only. You move to rest on his chest so you can feel the way his chest rumbles as he speaks.

As he reads, you let your eyes drift shut, the sound of his voice becoming a soothing backdrop. Jason leans his down, pressing a light kiss on your head and effectively muffling his voice. Each word he reads intertwines with his heartbeat, spinning a cocoon of intimacy that cradles the both of you.

You notice the way he plops a bookmark on the page you were on just before you fall asleep.

“You’re killing me, honey,” Jason groans over the phone.

The smell of a home-cooked meal fills your apartment as you shoulder your phone. “Come home, then,” you chuckle.

“I swear I can smell it through the phone. Why’re you always cooking something good when I’m away, huh?”

You move to grab a pan. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be away so much.”

“Gotta do my job, honey,” he sighs. “To keep my beautiful girlfriend safe so she can continue to spoil me with her delicious cooking.”

You laugh, stirring the simmering sauce. “It’s just pasta, Jay.”

“Yeah, but it’s your pasta. That makes it gourmet.”

You can’t help but smile at his praise. “Dork. I’ll save you a plate. Just don’t take too long, or I might eat it all.”

“Don’t you dare!” His voice rises in mock horror. “I’ll be home soon, I promise. Just a couple more things to wrap up. You got dessert for me?”

You scoff playfully. “Pick it up yourself. I’ve got a book to finish.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawls, then his tone softens. “I’ll get you your favorite. Only the best for my girl.”

You exchange sweet goodbyes before hanging up, the warmth of Jason’s words lingers in the air, wrapping around you like the blanket he often claims. You focus on the pasta simmering on the stove, the fragrant aroma filling the kitchen. Your mind drifts to Jason, as it does a lot, and you can’t keep the stupid grin of your face as you finish cooking.

After plating the pasta, you set the table, stealing glances at the clock as you wait for him to come home. You flip through the book, and allow yourself to get lost in the words. The minutes stretch, the kitchen filled with nothing but your muttered words as you read. You’re just about to take a distracted bite of your food when there’s knocks on the door, the specific pattern Jason went over with you.

Jason steps in, Red Hood helmets already off and perched under his arm, a bag carried by his other. You perk up, unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face. He steps in, shaking off the remnants of his day, and his eyes light up at the sight of the table set for two. “You’re making me fall in love with you all over again, you know that?”

You laugh, stepping forward to meet him in a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he greets back one you separate. He places the bag on the table, the logo of your favorite sweets brand greeting you. “As promised.”

“You spoil me,” you hum happily, parroting his earlier words. “Everything go okay?”

Jason nods, pulling out your chair for you before taking his own seat. He grabs his fork with an eager shine in his eye that makes you snort. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Jason, it’s that he loves to eat.

“Usual stuff.” He keeps it brief, for your sake. He doesn’t like you to hear about the stuff he deals with on patrol, once said, “pretty things like you shouldn’t worry about things like that.” Flattering, but it’s whatever.

“Dickhead mentioned this new bakery that opened up, though you might like it,” he mumbles, voice obscured by his chewing.

You smile. “Sure, let's make it a date.”

Jason goes on to mention little things about his day, and you do listen… at first. You love hearing Jason talk, and you love hearing about his day but… you also really wanna finish this book. It starts as subtle glances to the open pages. Then, it goes to skim reading while nodding along to his words. Now, you’re full on reading and have tuned him out. Whoops.

Jason pauses mid-sentence, a playful glint in his eye as he watches you. “Baby.”

“Hm?”

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, smirking.

You look up, feigning innocence. “Of course. You just mentioned the arcade you went to with Roy.”

He raises a brow and you know he doesn’t believe you. Damn detective skills. If he feels any type of way because of it he lets it go and continues talking. This time you do better to try and pay attention, but when he leaves to go to the bathroom your eyes wander right back onto the pages.

“You’re killing me again, honey.” Shit, he came back fast. To his credit he doesn’t look annoyed, just fond. Still, you feel guilty.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” you groan, shutting the book and throwing it across the room. Miraculously, it lands on the couch.

Jason raises a brow. “Nice throw.”

“Jay,” you whine. He snorts and comes around you, laying a hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “It’s so good. You’ll love it when I finish.”

“I’m not mad, honey.” He leans down and presses a kiss against your forehead, whispering, “Besides, I think it’s hot.”

You blink, watching him sit back down as if he said nothing at all. Well, that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him about it.

You are one of the many people guilty of not knowing when to put down a good read.

In your defense, however, it’s not bedtime yet. Bedtime is whenever you and Jason are in bed, and he still has to shower. Until then, you’re content to let him take his time, as you’re completely taken by your book. The gentle hum of the water running in the background almost becomes white noise to the whirlwind of words in your head.

The book's tension builds, your fingers gripping the pages a little tighter as the protagonist faces a crucial moment. You barely register the sound of the water shutting off or Jason stepping out of the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his waist, shaking his head with an amused smirk.

He slowly takes steps toward you, right up until his knees hit the mattress. He leans down, his arms coming to cage you. Finally, you really take notice of him. “Hi, Jay.”

“Hi, honey.” His eyes sparkle with amusement as he takes you in. He smooches your cheek before his hands come to grasp at your hips, pulling you to sit at the edge of the bed. You don’t break your focus from your book (if we’re being honest, you’re kind of used to it…)

He knees at your shared bed and spreads your legs. You don’t pay too much mind, even when the feeling of your underwear sliding down your legs sends a familiar shiver down your spine. It is only when a hot wet feel slides against your core that you’re snapped back into reality.

Your body reacts instinctively, squeezing your thighs around Jason’s head. “Jay!” you yelp.

He responds with a hum that sends a buzz through your body. His hands massage your skin as he kisses around your thighs. Your heartbeat picks up and your chest starts to heave. Your fingers tremble around the pages.

A hand leaves your pressure book to grip Jason’s hair. Your hips begin to rock against his face. Your breathing becomes more labored. His thumb begins to swirl your clit, stimulating you to your very core. The room around you fades away, leaving only the rising tension in your body. 

Jason's hands move up your thighs, his fingers digging gently into your skin as he holds you in place. His tongue darts in and out, teasing you with gentle licks and soft kisses. You moan, your head falling back against the bed as you give in to the pleasure.

Suddenly, the book slips from your fingers, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You don't even notice, too caught up in the sensations coursing through your body. Jason’s hands pull you impossibly closer, caught up in your pleasure.

"Jason," you moan, voice laced with desire.

It seems that your voice sets him off, because his tongue starts moving faster along with his fingers to bring you to your peak. Your body trembles, and your hips rock against his face, seeking more of the pleasure he's giving you. Your toes curl, back arching against the bed as your moans get louder and louder.

White fills your vision, mouth falling open as a final whine leaves your lips. You take deep breaths as you come down from your high, thighs twitching. Jason’s eyes meet yours, slowly rising from his knees to meet you. His lips brush against yours in a gentle manner. You feel yourself melt once again, your body aligning itself with him.

“Good?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Good,” you affirm, breathing him in.

“Good,” he nods, breaking away from the kiss, before meeting you back for more. You smile against him as the two of you exchange chaste kisses. Your legs fall open to welcome him closer. You whimper at the feel of his bulge against you.

“Jay,” you moan, grinding against him.

You feel his smirk. “Yeah?”

“Please…” He’s only wearing a towel, all you have to do is hook a finger around it and pull…

You’ve never felt such disappointment like when he pulls away from you, tightening the towel. He bends down, picking up your forgotten book, and strolling out of the room.

“Wh- Jay!”

“You said I’d like it, might as well start now. Who knows when you’ll put this thing down again,” he calls from the hallway.

“Jason!”

“This is payback!”

notes: kinda hate this but what can ya do 🔥

[wh1sp3rr]

sickly sweet romance of u & jay

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“jay,” you softly say.

your legs are stretched long on the soft beige duvet cover, blanket pulled up to jason’s chest, it riding just by your waist with you sat up straight. you look out the window, prickly raindrops sound as they hit the double panned glass, moonlight bathing your skin blue.

he’s breathing softly, body facing you so you watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his eyes stay shut in rest. he doesn’t hear you yet the sleepy sight of him makes you warm inside: hot and in love. you bite the inner part of your bottom lip and rake your fingers through his hair so to rouse him, he always did like when you did that. “jason.” you whisper shout, a little more playful than before and stroke his jawline quickly from ear to chin.

“mm?” he monosyllabically hums, still half-asleep. his mouth hardly moves but his eyebrows curiously wrinkle.

you drop down to his level and watch him like a puppy, eyes big and pupils wide, you just have to kiss his nose. “come on, baby. wake upp,” you slightly whine.

he doesn’t answer but smacks his lips a little and his entire expression creases briefly then reverts back to his sleepy, frozen self. he reaches for your face, feels around to grab your cheek since he refuses to open his eyes and awake from sleep, and cups your cheek. you smile, knowing this was his way of letting you know he was listening, even if he maybe wasn’t. you kiss his inner palm: the fatty part below his thumb— peck his wrist and then slide on top of him, kissing his cheek and his temple and near his eyes and by his jaw but not his lips, not yet.

with each kiss jason gains a little bit more consciousness, a little more happier and charmed by your excessive showering of affection he so tenderly loves. he groans, breathes out deeply and plants his hands on your hips, eyes squinting open, “alright. you’ve got my attention now.” he announces.

you smile and giggle, “so you’ll only listen to me if i’m kissing you?” your laugh reverberates through the thin cotton of your top into jason’s chest—deep in his bones, with your hearts only layers of skin, flesh and muscle away from touching.

he shakes the insinuation off, “nah baby, it’s not even like that.” he wraps his arms around your waist, belts them up real tight and pulls you in—hugs and rests in the little crook of your neck, breathes in the foggy remnants of today’s earlier perfume, kisses your cheek. loud smooch. “just tired.” he stays nestled in that tiny space by your neck.

you pout. want to whine at the fact that jay’s defo not gonna wake up and you’ll have to go do something on your own. you get that sleep is important to him and whatever it is that he does that requires him to come home absurdly late smelling a lot like blood and cigarettes but still it was only midnight on a friday, basically 8pm on any other day.

“you smell nice,” his lips tickle your neck and you shyly half-smile at the compliment.

“thank you.” softly you say.

“why you still up? you ain’t tired yet?” he asks, lips tickling your neck more.

“jason,” you whine a bit, roll your eyes too, even in the thick bluey darkness, “it’s only midnight. i’m surprised you even went to bed.”

“i’m tired, honey.” he rubs his face into your crook like a sleepy child, “and it was a slow night tonight. figured i deserved a break.” you can feel him slightly move his hands whilst he talks, nod a small yes to yourself even though you still weren’t quite sure what it was that he did.

“i still don’t really get what your job is.” you state, wanting him to elaborate.

he strokes your hair and gently says, “later, baby. later.”

you pout.

“don’t pout.”

you drop your jaw and pull back to see his face, “how’d you know i was doing that?”

“cuz i know my girl.” you smile down bashfully: sincerely. he picks your head up by kissing you. sweetly at first but, like always, a little nippy and sort of wild.

he pulls away before anything escalates and his voice sort of drops to this low, honeyed kind of hum, “you know i trust you with my life, right?” he cups your face.

you smile and hold the hand that’s on your cheek and kiss it as confirmation, “and you with mine.” you retaliate, a little hopeful for if he’ll finally share his secret with you. he rubs his thumb, a soft movement on your cheekbone.

“the shit i do—what i do…it’s not safe or i guess you could say, not conventional.” he searches between your eyes for any sort of understanding, hoping you get his meaning.

“i figured.” you calmly respond. “so what is it?” you push him.

he sighs. or maybe groans. whatever it was, he quickly looks down with such a look of torn you’d never seen. it makes you worry a bit—startle you. you had prepared for the worst: hitman, supplier, even a villain’s ally, training yourself to being accepting given if it were someone with fairer moral value. maybe someone like poison ivy or…

“red hood.” he dissyllabically says, with no real discernible tone, though he looks straight ahead at you and stares.

“is…” you wanna ask him if that’s who he works for but if there’s anything the people of gotham know, it’s that the red hood works alone. so you swallow that obsolete question and instead present with: “i kind of already knew.”

he looks up at you, wide eyed and ready to hear more.

“well i didn’t know know, i just knew that it was something ‘unconventional’. i was pretty convinced you were a hitman, it always made sense to me that’d if given the opportunity you’d be a good shot.” you flirt sweetly but still genuine. jay smiles softly, his eyes grow curious, his head somewhat tilted.

“what gave it away?”

you point at the few bits of dirty laundry behind him thrown over a chair, “you come in with a lot of blood.”

his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and he even makes the expressions the brows as if he’s said it, but no sound comes out.

you see it as an opportunity to kiss him, gently let him know you’re still there, and to not let him drift off into despair. “i’m glad you told me.

he takes your hand and places it flat on his chest, palm desperately close to his heart: it drums. “thought you’d dump me.”

you smile and kiss his nose, “not a chance.”

a silence briefly erupts and the two of you just stare at each other, moonlight glazing each one of your doubled reflections in the other’s pair of eyes: an utter warmth of transparency and trust and bond that’ll never grow old.

“i…” you start, jason’s ears immediately prick up, attentive to hear anything you’ll say. “are you still sleepy?”

benignly: “less now.” he pauses, “why? what do you wanna do?”

“just talk,” the duvet cover’s fabric echoes as you move to slide your arm down, propping yourself up with your upright elbow, chin in palm. “tell me about one of your days.” you slowly blink, madly in love.

“when i’m out fighting?” he asks, heart swelling at how loving you’re being, someday he’ll marry you he thinks.

“anything.” you slow, gentle voice lulls.

his thumb trills your knuckles back and forth before he begins: “alright.”

© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car Au part 14

So, it has been a week, and it feels like when you wake up from an unplanned 30 minute nap and have to ask 'What year is it?' While feeling like you have been run over by a whole procession of clowns, clown cars, and maybe a camel for good measure. Granted, that may be from the ragweed that is pollinating like crazy, but oh well... new part!

THIS IS YOUR WARNING! SWEAR WORDS! Plenty of cursing ahead! You have been warned!

Previous. Masterpost

It had been over 24 hours since Jason saw Danny. The most troubling thing was, there were no whispers of a trafficking group in that area. He couldn't fathom what had happened to the kid. Barbara couldn't find the kid on her cameras either, so he might need to go to the cave and look at the Batmobile himself. The footage Babs pulled were just as corrupted as the ally cameras were. Maybe the kid built himself a little jamming device, wouldn't be his first strangely useful creation. Whether or not he had a jamming device, he was still missing and none of the other street kids had seen him. He knew they were probably not harboring him with the bounty for finding Danny being as lucrative as it was. Jason knew offering to cook 3 meals a day for a week would get all of his street kids looking, some adults too.

Jason was a little surprised to see Duke looking at the Batmobile's underside when he drove in. Normally only Bruce and Jason worked on the cars since they had the most hands-on experience with them. Case in point, Duke had the car up on the lift with the front doors open. Did he have to sit Duke down and go through safety in maintenance 101? Maybe he could borrow little Timmy's version “The importance of Maintenance Safety: Or why you don't let Megan write safety plans.” It would hit all the important bits and sear the information in with neon yellow and blue comic sans font.

“So, Glowstick, mind telling me why the fuck you are trying to get yourself crushed?” Jason growled at the kid, the helmet making it even more menacing.

Duke gave Jason an unimpressed look. “B got a stick up his ass and thinks I somehow was involved with the Batmobile running weirdly." Duke sneered as he continued. "Last night when Red Robin activated his emergency beacon, the lead goon got in it and ran over some of his goons. The fail safes for theft didn't activate. Somehow, it was my fault. Perks to being the closest non-injured, I guess.”

Jason was surprised at the bitterness the usually sunshine-y kid had.

“Well, good news, we can swap for a bit, and I can teach you properly how to maintain this beast.” Jason offered.

“Why are you so interested?”

“I can't be nice?”

“You are here willingly, and no, you usually are not ‘nice’. So what is it?”

Jason was not expecting such hostility from Duke, but if Bruce had his panties in a twist and took it out on Duke, he could forgive some of the bite. Couldn't hurt to get Duke in on his hunt for Danny anyway.

“I… need help. One of my guys mentioned they bet a kid, named Danny, some money to put a sticker on the Batmobile. No one has seen the kid after entering the alley where the car was parked. Oracle said the cameras were corrupted at the time the kid was there with it. Figured I would check the car for clues.”

“Oh…. Sure.”

They both looked at the undercarriage of the car in silence before Jason gave a snort.

“The kid really did put a sticker on the oil pan. That is hilarious.”

Sure enough there was a Green Arrow sticker, one where he had his arms crossed and looking smug as all hell, positioned in such a way that eluded that when the oil was drained it would look like Green Arrow was pissing.

“That is amazing, if you find the kid let me give them a high-five for that. What does he look like anyway?”

“Adoption bait, pretty much a mini me with a more ‘polite’ mouth.” Jason was sure Duke could hear his smile when talking about the kid.

“No shit? You with manners? I don't think I can imagine that from a Alley Rat.” Duke teased.

“Watch it Narrows, us Alley Rats are all a little rabid.” Jason found himself teasing back before sniffing. “Besides, Alfie would have my head if I didn't have some manners.”

They went back into a more comfortable silence while working, Jason took to looking through the center, hoping to find some sort of clue of a struggle if Danny got nabbed. Duke was focusing on the engine compartment and any wirings that he could follow. It was rather relaxing until Duke went to move some rubber piping to get a closer look at a relay.

Neither person expected the car to shudder and produce a kind of creepy giggle. Duke froze and Jason reacted by tackling him away from the car and pulling one of his guns at the Batmobile.

“What in the ever loving fuck?” Jason screamed, the Batmobile responded with its own car alarm going off.

“Don't shoot! I'm sorry, I didn't expect that to happen, we are still trying to figure things out!” Duke had jumped back up and put himself in front of Jason, waving his hands and trying to keep attention on him.

“We? What the fuck Narrows?!”

“Just, both of you, stop! Hood, gun down, Car dude, stop the alarm. Please.” Duke all but whined the last word in desperation.

Jason took a Very deep breath, and growled out in the now silent cave.

“Car. Dude?”

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