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importantstudentbusinessspy-blog · 2 months

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Hey, neighbor

Pairing: Jason Todd x (f) Reader

Tags: mystery, eventual smut, pwp, incorrect science (im so sorry to women in S.T.EM.), morally ambiguous Jason Todd, neighbors, nerdy reader, smoking

Chapter 1: Jason is assigned to investigate the cute grad student in the apartment below his.

Jason sat by the open window of his kitchen, two guns disassembled before him on a worn-out cloth, the room filled with the scent of oil and cigarette smoke. His shirt was long discarded on the chair beside the one on which he sat as the unreliable apartment AC sputtered and groaned, a constant reminder of the summer heat.

His fingers moved deftly to reassemble the weapon. ACDC blasting from his phone on the windowsill, the music helping him focus amidst the noise of the neighborhood. But the sounds of laughter and the thud of a soccer ball periodically interrupted his concentration. Some kids were playing a game on the street.

As he glanced at the game, a familiar figure caught his attention. The girl from 1B, the apartment below his, made her way up the street up to their building.

He took a drag from his cigarette and watched as you chatted away on the phone, oblivious to the looks you got in your preppy skirt and tucked in V that accentuated your figure and proudly showed your cleavage. Barbara may have given him a boring assignment, but you sure looked a whole lot of fun. At the very least, he could enjoy the view on his investigation.

"Yeah, it's a nightmare," he heard you complain to your phone when you were just at the entrance door to the building. "The subway's been shut down every day this week... I keep having to walk all the way home from the research center in thirty degree weather. Oh well, at least I'm getting my steps in."

Two of the kids abandoned the game and ran up to you before you could unlock the front door. Jason could hear as they bombarded you with questions about your experiments. You told the person on your call that youll text them before you hung up.

Then, you enthusiastically began explaining your work to the kids in an animated manner, mentioning elements and scientific terms, talking about chemical reactions as if you were narrating a bedtime story. The kids listened with rapt attention, nodding as if they understood every word.

Jason couldn't help but chuckle to himself, finding it amusing how you were explaining complex concepts to children, and they hung on to every word. The kids inquired eagerly if you had any samples for them.

You reached into your bag, extracted a vial, read the label, and then froze, right before hiding it out of the view of the kids.

Jason let out a puff of smoke and narrowed his eyes. That wasn't a usual reaction to a harmless substance.

You recovered quickly, informing the kids that the vial in your hand wasn't the "good" one. After a moment of rummaging through your container, you took out another vial, read the label, and then handed it to the kids, who cheered with delight.

"What does it do?" one of them asked.

"Pour some salt into it and see. Not too much though, a pinch is good." You winked.

"Awesome!" The second kid exclaimed.

You beamed at their enthusiasm. Jason found himself grinning, momentarily forgetting about his gun. But his amusement quickly died as he caught a glimpse of the symbol on the vial you clutched in your hand. Poison Ivy. Barbara's intel was right.

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Exhausted from his patrol, Jason parked his motorcycle and climbed off, the engine's growl fading out. As he approached your building steps, his keen senses caught a low whisper drifting from the porch. You sat with your neighbor Melody, engaged in a hushed conversation. You often sat with her on the porch on the days when her husband worked the late shift. The two of you sipping wine from coffee cups in a fun tradition.

Jason's footsteps barely made a sound as he climbed up the steps, overhearing Melody’s animated voice praising his handsome features and enigmatic aura. You reciprocated, painting a vivid picture of his muscles, tattoos, and piercings. A grin tugged at the corner of Jason's pierced lips as he absorbed the words, silently revelling in the compliments.

He cleared his throat once he reached the steps you two were sat on.

Melody’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she quipped, "You're out past your bedtime, hun." She extended her cigarette to him.

He eyed it and then accepted. Tossing the stick in his mouth, before lowering himself towards her held up lighter, he gave her a glazing look, his blue eyes burning in the setting sun as he inhaled from the stick, then he stood back up and leaned against the railing.

As the smoke curled in the air, Jason turned his attention to you. “How's school going?”

You realized you'd been staring. Blinking and trying to recall his question, you felt as though it was off hearing his voice. Jason was nice enough, you guessed, if a bit of a tease at times, but he'd mostly kept to himself. At least, that was your perception of him since he moved into your run-down building on the outskirts of gotham a month ago. "... uhh pretty good. Thanks for asking.”

"Shame about those subway closures, though, huh.” He offered a charming grin when he tilted his head.

"Oh, tell me about it." You rolled your eyes at the reminder. "This city... i swear. Do the closures cause you much trouble?”

He shook his head and gestured to his bike. "Nah, got my bike to help with that shit."

You followed his gaze to the impressive vehicle leaning against the wall. "Cool," you said out loud without meaning to.

"Let me know if you ever need a ride."

That caught your attention, making you turn back to him. The thought of riding on his bike had your heart fluttering, and you caught your friend's gaze beside you as you bit your lip, turning back to Jason, whose brooding gaze zeroed in on your mouth. You tried not to let it distract you. "How about tomorrow? I got to present my thesis at 8 am. Can't be late, and it would help a ton."

Melody stood up. “Well I should go, you two have fun.” She winked at you over her shoulder.

You made a move to leave as well, but Jason's hand on yours halted you. His grip was firm as he leaned in, his tone low. "Meet me here tomorrow at seve forty five." he asked, his hooded eyes gazing into yours.

Your pulse quickened at his closeness, and his voice in your ear sent goosebumps along your skin.

You finally found your voice again. "T- the commute is usually around forty minutes." Refering to his propositioned meeting time.

The corner of his lips twitched, and his tongue brushed against his sharp canine. "You've never ridden a bike before, have you?"

Your cheeks turned red. "No."

"Tomorrow, I'll show you what real speed is."

You looked up at him and swallowed. The words sounding both threatening and exciting. "Okay,"

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He was right about speed. As you held on to Jason, you felt the hum of the engine as he excelarated on the road, passing vehicles on his way. You were scared at first, breathing quickly under your helmet. You were pretty sure you gripped creases onto his jacket. But then that fear gave way to excitement.

Not only were you going one fifty within city limits, but you were doing so while sitting right behind Jason. He steered with such nonchalance, the smell of his ocean cologne invading your senses as his large frame steered in front of you. His confidence was so hot, you had to adjust yourself on the seat a couple times, regretting your decision to wear your checkered skirt as the only thing standing between the vibrating seat and your pussy were your thin panties.

You've finally reached the center, and he parked his bike, getting off first as you sat back, propping yourself by holding the seat behind you. He then reached for you, hads grabbing your waist, and lifted you with ease before placing you on the ground.

"Come on," he removed his helmet, revealing the perfectly messy hair and chiseled face under it. He removed yours next, slightly brushing your hair with his hands as well. "I'll walk you in."

When you scamned your card at the door, he put his hand on your hip, steering you inside, his fingers brushing you on the spot gently.

"Nice place," he commented pursing his lips in an impressed expression when you two were inside. Students and fsfukty were rushing around you, occasionally a curious eye looked Jason up and down. "Is that were you work? He gentured towards a large door at the end of the hall.

"No, im on the fourth floor." You explained.

"Hmm,"

"Thanks so much, Jason." You grinned at him once you were inside. "I owe you one."

He shook his head. "I'll think of a way you could make it up to me."

You swallowed as your mind filled with images of you doing just that. Mostly on your knees. You shook your head. "Well, I should go." You tightened your hold on the straps of your bag.

He winked at you. "Knock 'em dead."

You couldn't help the involuntary giggle. "I'll do my best."

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Jason pulled up to the research center at midnight. He scanned your card against the sensor, and the entrance door let out a beep, letting him pull it and enter with ease.

He passed by the few working students and faculty and casually strode up to the fourth floor, checking every door to find the one he was looking for. The one belonging to you.

When he finally landed on the correct door and walked in, he heard his phone ring and tapped on his headphones to pick up as he studied your work desk.

"So, Jay," Roy Harper spoke in his ear, "About time we hit the streets again."

Standing amidst the small and tidy space of your desk, Jason surveyed the room, noting the orderliness that seemed to mirror the girl who inhabited it. His gaze roamed over lab tools and equipment, finally settling on the vial that he recognized from the other day. Memories of the haunted expression you held when you accidentally almost gave it to the neighborhood kids resurfaced.

Jason held up the vial to study its content and confirm his suspicions about the label. "Miss me already, Harper?"

As Roy went on, Jason recalled the articles and social media profiles that appeared on the screen when he looked you up. You were from the suburbs. Your parents were serving time for robberies in their county jail.

Framed pictures adorned your desk, capturing moments with friends and colleagues. Amidst the cheerful snapshots, there were no family pictures. Though that wasn't uncommon in offices. He continued his exploration, venturing into your desk cupboards, where medals, certificates, and awards adorned - accomplishments in science.

“What a smart girl," he cooed to himself, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Roy's voice interrupted his thoughts, snapping him back to the present. "Jason, are you even listening?"

Jason blinked, refocusing on the call. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here."

Roy chuckled. "You're doing it again, aren't you?” He sighed. “You, with your detective shit. I swear to god..."

Jason grinned sheepishly. His gaze fell upon a particular photo. You stood beside an older woman, likely your professor, holding an award. The picture looked recent, raising questions that echoed in his mind. He'd have to start with her.

Roy groaned, but there was no real irritation in his voice. "Listen, I'm sending you a rendezvous point in the city. Meet me there in an hour?"

Jason nodded, his phone pinging and the screen brightening with the address. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of you with your professor. "I'll be there."

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In the dimly lit study of Wayne Manor, Jason handed the vial over to Bruce Wayne, who examined it with a furrowed brow.

"Babs' intel was right," Jason crossed his arms. Dick Grayson stood nearby, his arms crossed, curiosity etched on his face.

Bruce scanned the vial, his fingers deftly manipulating it. "That's not Ivy's toxin. It looks similar, but not viscos enough. I need to bring this to the lab," he concluded and held the glass container out to Dick.

"Hurry, I'll need to return it before she comes back tomorrow." Jason informed.

Dick handed the vial back to Bruce and turned his attention to Jason, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "So, Jay, did she use the pheromones on you?" he quipped, his tone teasing.

Jason arched an eyebrow, a cocky smile playing on his lips. "She's more your style, Grayson. Im not into nerdys,"

Dick chuckled, holding up the vial. "The nerdy ones end up being the most fun!" he retorted, insinuating a connection between you and Poison Ivy.

Bruce handed the vial to Alfred to analyze in the lab and redirected their attention to the matter at hand. "Focus," he interjected, his tone firm. "We need to find out Ivy's whereabouts and her potential connection to this girl. I'll go to arkam tonight. You, too, are on patrol. Jason, keep an eye on her."

Jason mock saluted his adoptive father. "Yes, sir,"

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Once the lab analysis came in and the vial had been returned to your work desk, Dick and Jason were back in Jason's apartment; each nursing a beer even though it was only noon.

Dick scrolled on his laptop, typing away at locations for possible patrol when he snapped the computer shut. "Alright, come on. Old man’s not here, you can tell me, are you more interested in this job. Or this girl?" He raised a brow.

Jason knew you had been home early today after checking out the schedule pinned on your wall yesterday. He also knew that your window was open and it was below his, and he could definitely hear your humming while you did some task.

"Who? y/n?" He said a little louder than necessary. He noticed the humming had stopped. Dick noticed it too, raising his brow at his adopted brother.

Feeling a bit bold, he sat up and turned towards his brother. "She's a cute girl. Likes to wear neat button-up shirts, neatly tucked into her preppy little skirts when she goes to study."

He strained to hear you. You weren't making a sound. "And when she walks home in the heat, the sweat makes her clothes stick onto her body..."

"Oh yeah?" Dick asked, catching on to what Jason was doing as he eyed the window.

"Ill admit, dude, she has a nice fucking body." Jason groaned on purpose.

"What else is nice about her?"

"Well, she always comes back from the library with some cheap, dumb looking romance novels so that she could fantasize when she's alone, and she thinks nobody can hear -"

An object fell from somewhwere beneath the open window, followed by a feminine gasp.

Dick grined. "That's very nice... go on"

Jason shrugged, feeling as though he had his fun. He strained his ears to pick up any more noise or reactions from your window. When he didn't, he shrugged it off, turning back to his brother and speaking in his inside voice. "Well... she's a good kid. She plays it kinda safe. Not really my type, I guess."

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That evening, Jason was going up the stairs to his apartment, about to change for patrol. He heard clicks coming from the second floor and turned his head to see who it was. He nearly froze on the spot when he saw you make your way to the steps.

You were in high heel leather stilettos, which made you almost come up to his nose, though you were on the highest step, and he was one below. A short red velvet dress sat on your dancer physique, with long sleeves and a dip in the front that showed off your choker of the same color. Your hair was up in a ponytail, with small curls falling down each side to frame your face. You wore red lipstick, glossed over, and made you look so kissable. Jason realised he must have been staring. He cleared his throat. "Nice dress."

You rolled your eyes. "Can you please move?"

"Are you mad at me?" He didn't get out of the way, though.

"No," you shrugged, remembering his words earlier today. "Plays is too safe." "Not my type," whatever. Like you cares what he thought of you. You did, though.

"Oh yeah? Well, where are you going dressed like that?" He pressed.

"Somewhere fun.” You snapped at him. “Get out of my way, Jason." You shoved past him.

He smirked to himself, deciding his evening was all booked up. Because there was no way he was going to let you put yourself in danger on the way to fun just to spite him for his dumb big mouth.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #read hood imagine #eventual smut #batman #red arrow #bruce wayne #dick grayson #roy harper #nightwing #barbara gordon

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battymommastuff · 1 year

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The Loop [Happy Birthday]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: Your husband and children decide to throw you a surprise birthday party. What could possibly go wrong?

TW : DARK THEMES AND DEATH

When it came to your birthday, it was more you treating your family. Instead of breakfast in bed with a bouquet of flowers, your family was greeted with a massive breakfast. Every time they told you that it was unnecessary; They were more than capable of making you breakfast.

Every year you never asked for anything for your birthday. You had everything you could ever want. What more could you ever need?

"Breakfast was amazing Y/N!" Barbara said as she sat in the kitchen with you while you washed the dishes. Another tradition on your birthday was to give Alfred a day off. Sometimes he wondered if it was his birthday instead of yours.

"Thank you, darling." You said with a small laugh. While Barbara kept you company, down below in the batcave; The rest of your family were hard at work.

"Father, I think this object can wait. Mother's balloons need to be blown up." Damian said as he held a purple balloon in his hands. He, Dick, and Jason were busy blowing up balloons for the surprise party tonight. Almost everyone in the city had been invited, and it was going to be the party of the decade. Everything had to be perfect for you.

"There was a reason that Ra's wanted this, and I'm going to figure it out." Bruce said as he studied the mysterious object in his hands. Damian felt a slight twinge in his heart after hearing his grandfather's name. Being here so long, he sometimes forgot about that part of his life. He preferred this one so much more.

"There's plenty of time to figure it out. I'm sure the mystery will still be here after tonight." Duke said as he took the object from Bruce. He examined it curiously then set it down on a nearby table. He was the only one that hadn't been there that night when it was taken from the League of Assassins

Bruce let out a huff before he turned around and looked at each of the people he'd come to see as his children.

"What do you need me to do first?"

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No one will ever know how she managed to do it, but Cass somehow got you to dress completely formal. She managed to do this while not giving away the surprise. She just acted like she wanted to play dress up with you as a way to bond. Next, she was dragging you down the hallway to 'take a picture'. When you got to the top of the staircase, you were met with a decorated room and a large crowd.

"SURPRISE!"

Your hand flew to your chest as you looked at everyone in shock, then back to Cass who held a smirk on her face. "You sneaky little thing." You cooed while squishing her cheeks between your pointer finger and thumb. You were soon joined by your family in a massive group hug. Damian was in high protest to this idea, but refused to be the one furthest from you. He wiggled his way into your arms causing Bruce to be pushed out of the way.

The party went on perfectly. Each one of your children danced with you to a different song, and your smile didn't leave your face. This was a night that you were going to remember for the rest of your life. It was another reminder of why you loved your family so much. Your final dance before you would take a little break was with Barbara.

You held her hands as the both of you swayed as best you could with her in her wheel chair. At first she denied your request to dance for that very reason, but you wouldn't let her skip out on the fun.

Barbara was the first to notice a little red dot climbing it's way up your body. Jason was the second, "Mom! Get down!" He yelled as Barbara put her hands on your hips to push you down. It was too late...

The sound of glass shattering halted the entire party as a bullet whizzed into the room and headed right for you.

The blood...

The screaming...

The chaos....

Every Wayne family member stood frozen as they watched your body collapse to the ground. A bullet hole right between your eyes. Such accuracy. Your family couldn't shake the shock they felt. This couldn't be real, you couldn't be dead...

Barbara being the closest to you looked down at her dress which had a small blood splatter on it from the bullet entering your body. Her eyes are as wide as saucers, and her skin paler than snow. She watched a pool of blood form around your head and the front of her wheelchair. Her ears ringing from the shock she felt having witnessed this so close.

Dick was the first one to you after he found the will to move. He collapsed on the ground, not caring if blood was staining his suit pants. "Mom? Mom!" He cried out hoping that you were somehow still alive. The bullet went clean through, and he could see the blood pool through the hole. He clutched your body in his arms hoping that you would hold him in return.

One by one your children crowded around your corpse. Each one of them saying their own prayer in hopes you would come back. Each one of them talking to your lifeless body hoping for a response. All they got was a lifeless stare.

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Jim Gordon approached Dick slowly. He had Damian tucked under his arm as the young boy hid his face in his older brother's chest. He didn't want the news to see him crying, but everyone knew that he was. "We have to take her body in for an autopsy. Can you get him to let us take her?" He asked gently then gestured to Bruce.

He was sitting in the drying blood pool with your body in his arms. Tears streamed down his face as his mind flashed back to the night he lost his parents. Him holding his mother's body in the same way that he was holding yours. He blamed himself for his parent's death, and now he was blaming himself for yours. If he hadn't married you, then you would be alive. You would be safe. Of course he wouldn't be. He wouldn't have the love of his life, but your fate wouldn't have been this.

"Bruce? They need to take her body." Stephanie said as she crouched down next to him. Her hand hesitantly rested on his shoulder. She watched as Bruce shook his head, and held you closer to his chest. He heard them unzipping the body bag, and he couldn't bring himself to let you go. Stephanie looked to Tim, who had been standing with Jason and Duke. Jason hadn't said a word since the police arrived. Duke was staying by his side to make sure he wasn't going to do something reckless.

After some more convincing, Bruce finally allowed himself to be separated from you. He watched as they picked your body up, and put it into the bag. He felt the bile rise into his throat as the zipper slowly covered your body.

The family gathered around each other to comfort one another. They found themselves in the same group hug, but instead of laughter and love, it was filled with sorrows and sobs.

"S-Sir...this was left for you." Alfred said as he held a music box in his hand. His hands were shaking as he tried to hold himself together. Alfred knew someone had to be strong, and he wasn't going to let it be any of the people he called family. Bruce stepped forward to take the music box. He opened it, and a clock slowly lifted up and the hands started spinning. A sweet song filled the air, and the Batfamily felt their eyes start to droop.

"What's going on?" Tim asked as he leaned on Stephanie for support. Barbara was the first one to succumb to the powerful feeling. Her body slumped and then fell out of her chair. Dick tried to get to her, but he passed out as well. One by one each member fell to the ground seemingly in a deep sleep. Bruce was the last, he collapsed to the ground with the last thing he saw being the music box.

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Bruce shot up with a gasp, and looked around frantically. He was in his bed, in his pajamas. He looked at the time, and it was six in the morning. He looked over to your side of the bed where he saw that it was messy. As if you had just gotten up. His eyes then moved to the bathroom door where he could see the light on.

"Y/n?" He called out, and felt his heart drop into his stomach when he saw you step out with a sleepy smile on your face. Your smile turned to concern when you saw how your husband was looking at you.

"Bruce? What's wrong?" You asked, crossing the room to sit on the bed with him. Bruce wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how he watched you get shot in the head. How he held your lifeless body, but it didn't matter. It was a dream...all a dream.

"Nothing, just a bad dream." He said then kissed your shoulder. You gave him a weird look, but shook it off and kissed his cheek.

"Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up after I make my famous birthday breakfast." You said and did a little dance. Before Bruce could react, the door slammed open, and you saw each of your children staring at you as if they'd seen a ghost.

"What is wrong with you guys?" You then stood up with a slight pout, "Don't tell me you beat me to breakfast, I wanted to make it." You hoped that breakfast was the issue. Soon after you said that, you were nearly tackled by several people. You didn't know why your children were so happy to see you when they saw you a few hours ago.

After peeling yourself away from your family, you left to make your birthday breakfast. You had no clue what had gotten into any of them, but it wasn't going to stop your birthday tradition.

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stararch4ngelqueen · 10 months

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jason getting his wisdom teeth out (or generally loopy on painkillers, like maybe post-mission or smth) and rambling abt how much he loves you and his life. adksjkfh sorry he's such a loser i love him to death

This was such a funny/silly idea I swear. Silly goofy cute husband stuff, I need this man 🧍🏽‍♀️

I did this draft at work and I didn’t have chance to look up reference videos, what you see is what you get 🌝

—

Time written - 9:18 a.m

—

“How’re you feeling?” You ask towards the large lump of a man casually sprawled over a majority of your couch, dressed in dark lounge clothes with a bandage tied around his right forearm. “Feeling alright?”

“Mm… No,” he answers. He’s still pretty loopy, his attention split between you and the ceiling above him. Maybe it’s the medication making him feel so relaxed, but he looks… content.

“No, wait. I- I’m fine,” Jason slurs, a faint smirk gracing his lips. “I’m perfectlyy fine.”

It’s funny; in an ideal world he’d be more embarrassed than he is, his words mumbled through small mouthfuls of damp, pink tinted cotton. Yet he’s so out of it he can’t care if you judge him or not.

Whether he would recall being hauled into an apartment elevator by Dick while you watched, probably secretly taking photos and videos would be a complete mystery.

Of all the ways you’ve had him the most vulnerable, this has got to be the best.

“How was work?” He mumbles, rubbing at his eyes with one hand.

Work? You question in your head, huffing a little bit. You rarely call in, but today was such a necessity. Thankfully you had an understanding boss, and an understandably reasonable friendship with the eldest Wayne son, who helped you carry such a large hunk of brawn and brain from your passenger seat towards your living room couch. You weren’t sure to play along or to break character to a play you weren’t aware you were involved in.

“Work was fine,” you say as you settle in between the slim spot available on the couch. He looks pretty comfortable there, but he probably would be happier in bed. “You sure you’re not in pain?”

“Mhm,” he grunts, closing his eyes as he tries to rest his head against the back of the couch. He looks as if he could fall asleep at any second, eyes half closed.

Jason looks up at you through slightly glazed-over eyes, his expression making it obvious that he isn’t paying attention to a word you’re saying. In fact, he looks a little surprised that you’re even sitting here next to him.

Something about you being so close to him is stirring up the medicated fog in his head. He can barely feel the stitches that he got earlier in his mouth, or how difficult it was to smile from all the numbing they’d done.

“You’re… right next to me.”

His murmured words are slurred, and they don’t make a whole lot of sense, but they make you smile.

“Yeah,” you reassure him. “Just making sure you’re feeling okay.” Of course—he thinks you’re so beautiful, where did an angel like you come from?

“Just rest here for a bit, alright?” Your hand finds its way to his, squeezing his hand lightly. “Think Dick went to go get something for you to eat. Or maybe Alfred made something for you. I bet you’re really hungry, huh?”

Again, he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. His eyes peered down to his limp hand, seeing your slim, tiny fingers cradled along his open palm. Your skin was so smooth, so—

“Soft…” He mutters, making you scrunch your lips to refrain from laughing.

“Jason,” you attempt again. “You heard me?”

“Mm.. Yeah.” His gaze flicks back to yours, his head raising just a bit as if a teacher abruptly called his name in the middle of class.

“You look, uh, pretty.” He says, blinking once. “Today. Right now.”

Once more, it took everything in you not to laugh, recalling Jason’s insistence that he’d be perfectly capable on this kind of medication last night.

Oh, you were incredibly aware that he’s dealt with various stitches and removing bullets from his body, broken ribs and resetting bones back into sockets. And death. Sure, he’s explained he’s been on hardcore pain medication plenty of times, and how much it would’ve sucked if he was allergic to any of them. He’s Red Hood, he’s handled so much, he could basically handle anything.

However, as truthful as you understood, seeing him in such a state after removing one wisdom tooth was so … funny. Their were hundreds of other amusing descriptions to describe it, but in the end, it was all so very funny, seeing him all giddy like a little boy holding his schoolgirl crush’s hand.

Even though you’ve been dating for about five years. With a year break in between, give or take.

Maybe it’s because he’s so out of it. Maybe it’s all the meds they gave him messing with his brain. As funny as it was, it was also a relief to see him so relaxed, not as tense as he usually was. Especially during off days when he’d insist he was calm and collected, but the tension in his shoulders never dissipated.

“You look so pretty… Your hair, your eyes.”

His soft comment melts your heart, making you squeeze his hand. “Aww. You think I’m that pretty, Jason?”

Jason nods, smiling lazily at you. You lean your head against his shoulder for a short moment, mindful of his slightly swollen cheek.

“I’m sure you already know that, but… Yeah.” His hand raises yours upwards, a brief flush of heat spreading across his face as he plants a weak kiss along the back of your palm.

“Mm… you’re so gorgeous. I wanna tell you every day.” His voice trails off, eyelids getting heavier by the second, nearly hiding his heart eyes from you. There’s no hesitancy in his voice, no doubt to what he says. Just a simple answer, simple truth.

“So, are you feeling hungry?” You try again, reminding him of what you said earlier. If he was paying any attention. “Dick might be here any minute. He might’ve brought some froyo.”

He has a quiet hum, glancing back up at the ceiling again. “Dick. Dick’s always so thoughtful, y’know? Not as, uh, as much as you though. He’d never be.”

You cock a brow, fighting back any amused response. There it was, something unusually unexpected that Jason Todd would say about someone he insists he can’t tolerate about eighty percent of the day.

Dick being thoughtful? You’re positive the man is now in possession of lots of photos and videos of Jason during the car ride home after the dentist.

“I’m not hungry… but I’d love if you fed me.” His voice is soft, just slightly louder than a whisper.

Your eyes widen considerably, finally releasing a giggle after so long. You gave it your best shot, but your response was enough to make your boyfriend lightly laugh. His face winces, a low grunt leaving his mouth as his hand cradled his cheek.

“Awww,” you take his hand, feeling a little guilty for making him hurt. “I’m sorry, handsome. You can’t laugh for a while, did that hurt a lot?”

Jason gives you his best smile, which is admittedly a slightly goofy grin as he shakes his head, putting on a brave front despite the pain coursing through his head. “Nuh-uh. Not at all… Your hands are so soft, babe.”

You resort to a soft chuckle, trailing your fingers up to ruffle and smooth along his hair. “Thank you, Jason.”

He’s slow to reply, clearly lost in thought with genuine, furrowed brows. If not for the medication, he’d probably kiss you right now.

The doorbell rings, giving you a chance to get off the couch and invite Dick in, who carried with him bags of food and frozen yogurt. Jason had no problem staying where he was, his eyes fully closed as his body sank back into the cushions, seemingly content with couch life.

“Catch him saying anything stupid?” Dick mutters to you as you ladle some soup into a bowl, hellbent on capturing any sort of evidence to use against the man for future purposes.

“Other than him believing I’m still his favorite woman, he thinks you’re a thoughtful older brother.”

“Oh yeah??” Dick chuckles, peering his head over towards the slumped man. “I’d think if roles were reversed, he would’ve left my ass on the curb.”

“Don’t be mean,” you scoff, playfully nudging him with your elbow. “You know he’d at least take you back home.”

“Inside a trash bag in the trunk,” Dick muses, casually leaning beside you on the kitchen counter. “You catch it on video?”

“Left my phone in my purse,” you shook your head, reaching into a drawer to get a spoon. “Stay for a while. See what happens.”

“Babe??” You hear Jason call from the living room. You peer your head out this time, seeing him fully sitting up from the couch, his head turned towards you with focused vision and deep concern written all over his face.

“Wait… weren’t you working today?”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x #jason todd dc #this might happen to me soon 🧍🏽‍♀️#how fun

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xoxochb · 2 months

Note

Forbidden love trope with Jason grace plss

⋆·˚ ༘ * this love is difficult, but it’s real

warnings: renaissance era, I changed a bunch of things from the play because shakespeare was on something, one sexual insinuation, tons of dialogue, this honestly isn’t my best work

pairing: romeo coded! jason grace x juliet coded! reader (daughter of ares and aphrodite)

a/n: forbidden love trope? you know my literature loving ass is gonna do something romeo and juliet inspired

two households, both alike in dignity- just kidding that’s not where this is going

a crowded room, the sound of people talking around you. a banquet set up by your parents- unexpected but it’s typical for them, you assume they’re trying to set you up with another boy when they drag you to meet another prince- percy jackson wishes to take your hand in marriage and your parents agree with it. you don’t even know the man! small talk doesn’t get you places and that seems to be the only thing this boy knows

“lovely weather today” he says

you lean your head against a pillar “I suppose”

“what do you enjoy in your free time?”

“many things”

“such as…?”

he won’t give up will he?

“reading, painting, not very much”

he nods his head “I adore sword fighting, but often swimming when I’m not”

your eyes scan around the room as he continues on about his many hobbies, nothing you care about, although when you think about it you don’t care about percy himself. boys, boys, boys! all mean at this absurd party, why can’t you chose a husband on your own? your eyes stop when they meet electric blue ones, yet covered by a mask, who is this strange boy? you must get to know him!

“percy?”

“yes?”

“could I be excused for a moment? I have to use the restroom”

“yes that’s quite fine, when you get back I’ll tell you about my great adventure over mountaintops”

you give him a half-smile before rushing off. would a mysterious look be okay? or should you approach the boy immediately? yes! let him approach you first

you take a drink from a waiter and lean your back against the nearest pillar. a mysterious look will do you good in this situation

waiting, waiting… will the boy ever talk to you?

“quite a boring banquet don’t you think?”

you turn around, the blue-eyed boy stands behind the pillar, you move to the opposite side with him

“my parents want me married off to that boy” you point to percy across the room who seemingly found another woman to torture with dreadful stories

“do you want to?”

“want to what?”

“marry him?”

you shake your head “who are you?”

he hesitates “why don’t we ditch?”

“I can’t do that”

“why not?”

“my parents will be furious”

“so what? they’re busy anyways”

you sigh “only for a little while”

he takes your hand in his and you allow him to drag you outside the palace to the garden, flower filled courtesy of demeter

“what is your name?” you ask

“If I tell you will you kick me out?”

“why would I do that?”

“you’ll realize”

“so what is it?”

he removes his mask “jason grace”

oh…

“oh my gods, son of zeus! I should have known. what are you doing here? our fathers will kill us!”

“I had to see you” he takes both of your hands in his yet again

“why? what is so important that you had to risk your life?”

“I’m in love with you” he puts your hands over his heart, you feel his rapid heartbeat

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been pining over you for so long, I came here to ask for your hand in marriage”

“oh my gods oh my gods, we can’t marry and you know that!”

“please. In secret even would be fine”

“how the hell do you want me to secretly marry you?”

“I have a friend who will be willing to do it”

“don’t you think this is sudden?”

“would you rather marry that other boy?”

“I suppose not…”

“then will I see you tomorrow morning?”

marry the son of poseidon who shows interest in every woman, not loyal, and talks a lot, or the son of zeus who has supposedly been in love with you for years and risked his life to see you?

“meet me at my bedrooms balcony, seven sharp” you point to your balcony

“I won’t be late” he gives you a heart-stopping smile

before he runs off he places a kiss on your lips, quick but lovely. you await his next arrival

⚔️

you hate waking early in the morning. you were the one who arranged the time though and in a half an hour you would be getting married to a boy you barely knew, a handsome one though you wouldn’t complain

you followed your morning routine like usual, careful to stay silent as you assume most of your family will be asleep after the long party the previous night

should you dress fancy since it’s a wedding or casual because it’s secret? makeup or natural look? too many decisions to make! you put on a simple pink dress, nothing too much but still good enough for a wedding. a few touch ups with makeup and check the time on your wall clock 6:58 it reads. he would be here any moment. you rush to your balcony and catch sigh of the blond boy walking up to your castle

you manage to climb over the railing to grab hold of the vines to climb down, nearly impossible to do with your dress on. when you (finally) make it to the bottom you hold up your dress and run to the boy

out of breath you put your hands on your knees but not before holding up a singular finger to indicate you needed a minute

“do you run much?” asks jason

“not at all”

you go back to regular posture as your breathing slows back down “let’s get married now, shall we?”

“we shall”

you loop arms and go on your way to- wait… you don’t even know where you’re going. hope it’s not dangerous

when you arrive you see a worn down house, belonging to who? you don’t know

“the person that’s going to marry us lives in there? Is he certified?” you inquire

“I don’t think so. he’s cool though”

when you walk in the house your greeted by a hyperactive boy, assumed to be around your age

“I’ve been waiting, what took so long?” the boy says

“long walk” jason shrugs “anyways- y/n this is leo, and you already know her so…”

leo beams “great! let’s get this ceremony started!”

not much of a set up, not much of a big ceremony. It was a simple ‘say your vows then kiss let’s get this over with’ for reason one because leo was not legally certified to do this and two because you knew zeus had many eyes and took forms of exotic animals (he could be anywhere- this horrifies you)

not only was leo not certified, he additionally didn’t know how to officiate a wedding. a bunch of nonsense about love spilled from his mouth and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore

“you may now kiss the bride! but not in front of me, please don’t do that in front of me”

you give him a concerned look. and mouth and mutter an ‘okay’ with a slow nod of your head. he was weird wasn’t he?

once you exited the house you got your chance for a kiss- to cement your marriage. however jason has other ideas

“why don’t we go to your palace to consummate our marriage?”

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #jason grace imagines #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace

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resident-idiot-simp · 2 months

Text

Inspired by this

Ft: @steriotypicaloutlaw & @existentialgaybirdnerd

I like to imagine Simon just randomly shows up places to do things for fun since he's legally dead. A random marathon here. A random convention there. Maybe there's a thread on 4chan or something wondering who the hell this guy is

Bird- "I swear I saw this guy before, he won (extremely specific race)" and there's a whole board about him

He just shows up around the world randomly and does incredible feats and then disappears again

Bird- "This guy shows up, kicks everyone ass at ANYTHING, then disappears without a trace. He's gotta be a superhero of SOME SORT"

Someone catches him in the wild one time holding the hand of this dude with a mohawk.

StO- Imagine Gaz having followed said board, also never saw Ghost without the mask or balaclava, and then he sees him there and he's just like, "I get to see him live!" And then Price reacts the way he does and Gaz is just like, "Wait! I know mystery Batman guy?!?"

Bird- "Mystery Batman guy is my SUPERIOR OFFICER? "

But they can trace Soap they know who this guy is. Imagine like a million people from 4chan just dog pile him in every social media platform wondering who the hell the man is. Soap knows about this I also bet you money ghost haunts the thread he knows everything he does this stuff on purpose at this rate.

And he made soap promise never to say a word. So soap gas lights like he's never gaslit before. I don't know who you're talking about that is not me you're delusional. 'It is you though'. No I was never there with a person ever in my life.

Bird- "Idk who tf you think that is, but I'm way more handsome than that"

Of course they can't fool Gaz but they do recruit him into the game. Laswell also knows about this

Bird- Laswell had been on the board since it started lol

At first it was just to make sure his identity didn't get leaked and now it's just for fun

Bird- She gives them vague hints in the wrong direction, photo shopping specific events that didn't happen to make it seem like he gets out more than he does.

Bro one time the catch Ghost in Cancun just surfing. No one knows where he went after they tried to follow It didn't work.

Bird- This man has fans all around the world but they can never get a picture of him without his permission.

What really gets people is he can be found across the world in very short periods of time. People assume he must be like one of those hidden billionaires.

Bird- That's why he's Batman to them

One time they got a picture of him super injured though and now they are convinced he's a superhero

Bird- There's a whole folder of circumstantial evidence of him being hurt and everyone going "evidence he's a superhero"

He is most often found is not in ridiculous events in Scotland and that is more evidence that he's connected to John MacTavish even though MacTavish denies everything. People are unsure if MacTavish is like his sidekick or butler or secret boyfriend/husband.

Ghost convinces him to do weird events as well and dominate them just to confuse the forum.

Bird- They're both superheros in their own right just a few months later according to the forum

One time the are spotted together at a log throwing competition. Then MacTavish at an art exhibit (Ghost is barely visible in the background). Next week in Cuba doing an eating competition.

Three days later San Diego Comic-Con. No one understands anything that's going on.

Bird- Ghost and Soap have a fun time reading through all the shit. They're in full cosplay too, they're only recognized because of Soap's Instagram story the day after and then everyone explodes because they SAW them but didn't recognize them until them. Ghost as scream and Soap as Jason.

Imagine one time they just show up on TV or the news in the background

Bird- There's a parade going on in the background and they show up as performers or part of the audience. The news reporters don't catch them as they wave enthusiastically to the camera.

They come to the conclusion that they know about the forums and then it becomes trying to dig out the rat.

Bird- They try to sus out the account that could be one of them, little do they know Ghost is one of the longest running ones there so his account isn't suspected at all times.

I imagine a random selfie gets uploaded to the forum as well.

Bird- He posts a selfie from a "found" social media that just HAPPENS to be "deleted" before anyone else can access it.

The people on the forum are extremely happy though that this random probably superhero is playing along.

He shows up in the Winter Olympics next. And he crushes the biathlon by a scary margin. After he gets the gold he proposes to Soap

Soap's bio gets updated to John MacTavish Riley. Soap continues to gaslight. That has always been my full name YOU'RE all delusional.

I imagine they only get their answers possibly after they all retire

Bird- Simon gets unkilled by law and is allowed to retire with Soap. They make a video explaining how they were fucking with people for entertainment and post it to the forum and everyone loses it lol.

#call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #john soap mactavish #soap x ghost #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #kate laswell

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princessvelaryon · 30 days

Text

My Finalized WIP List

DC Comics - Jason Todd:

Old Ghosts - Your high school sweetheart Jason Todd died when you were both fifteen years old. You are now twenty years old and have spent the past five years simply existing. Wanting to find some closure on your past or maybe feeling nostalgic and missing him, you moved back to Gotham and transferred to Gotham University for your junior and senior year of college. Lately, you have been noticing that a strange figure in a red mask seems to be everywhere you are. Should you be afraid? Angst and Smut

House of the Dragon - Jacaerys Velaryon, Cregan Stark, Benjicot Blackwood

House Sitting - During summer break from college, Jace’s family goes to their summer home for their annual week long family vacation. Jace decides to stay behind in order to house sit and he invites his best friend to help him. Things quickly spin out on control in the best way possible. Friends with benefits (sort of), mutual pining, idiots in love, miscommunication. Smut. Jace x Female Reader. 7 part miniseries, one chapter for each day of their vacation.

Champagne Wishes - Jace and his female best friend steal a bottle or two from his parents wine cellar. Snippet from House Sitting. Smut. For @vividxpages

Untitled Vampire Jace Series - In your freshman year of college, you fall for a mysterious student. You two instantly connect and you feel as if you have known him forever. Multi-chapter series. Thanks to Harry’s Taiker Magazine photoshoot. Iykyk.

Thinking of You - Your childhood and high school sweetheart and ex-boyfriend Cregan unexpectedly shows up to your engagement party to talk to you one last time before he has to watch you marry another man. Non-linear storytelling. Flashbacks. Smut. Desperate Cregan. I thought about doing alternate version with Jace and Benjicot but I had to start with Cregan. Inspired by the song “Thinking of You” by Katy Perry.

Another Taste - Snippet from my Vampire Jace AU. Sequel to Fresh Blood. Smut.

The Ghost in the Back of Your Head -

Jace x Baela series. Featuring Luke x Rhaena. Can be read as a series or on their own.

The Abyss - Baela and Rhaena’s long lives after Jace and Luke. Jace x Baela, Luke x Rhaena, Mentions of Baela x Alyn, Rhaena x Corwyn Corbray, Rhaena x Garmund Hightower

I’m Always Watching Over You, Even if You Cant See Me - Jace watching over Baela for the rest of her life. Him messing with Alyn every once in a while can’t hurt.

When I Get to Heaven - Jace and Baela have a reunion after many, many years apart. Jace x Baela

Watching Over You/The Least I Can Do For You - Jace hates seeing the way Alyn treats Baela. He cannot do much from where he is, but he messes with Alyn in any way that he can. I probably will change some of the titles

NSFW Alphabets - Jace, Cregan, Benjicot

Modern boyfriends/husbands headcanons - Jace, Cregan, Benjicot

To The Stars - Jace takes you flying with him on Vermax for the first time. Inspired by the film Titanic.

Hands - For the first time, someone shows Jace just how beautiful his hands are and you are lucky and honored that it is you.

A Welcome Distraction - Jace has been busy at the library lately and you help him relax, much to his stress and delight.

Just Like Honey - Jace wants to try something with you for the first time. Smut. Inspiried by the song "Just Like Honey" by The Jesus and Mary Chain

Another Taste of Honey - You return the favor. Sequel to Just Like Honey. Smut. Inspired by the song "Honey" by Mariah Carey

Stress Relief - You are stressed over school and finals and not taking care of yourself properly. Jace wants to help you relax in the best way he knows how to. Smut

Hair Care - Jace teaches you how to care for his curls the way his mother used to.

I See You - Jace saves you from making a permanent drastic decision. Inspired by the film Titanic.

Summer Air - You and Jacaerys enjoy the summer sunshine. Freckles, sunburns, tanning, swimming. Smut.

Night Swimmers - After a little too much to drink, you decide to jump in the pool. Jace decides to watch over you. Smut. Inspired by the song "Night Swimmers" by Foals

There’s Something About Cregan - Jace is jealous of your budding friendship with his best friend Cregan and you help him understand that he has no reason to be jealous. My attempt at comedy.

Grief Comes in Waves - Cregan x Jace’s sister. You and Cregan bond over the loss of your younger brothers.

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? - You and Cregan attend a Halloween party dressed as Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. Cregan has trouble resisting you in your sexy costume. Smut. Hint: I got inspired by Tom Taylor always making TikToks in that damn mirror of his. For @jacaerysgf when we would roast Tom for his dirty mirror.

Gentle Giant - Your betrothal to Cregan Stark is a welcome surprise but you are extremely nervous to meet him after hearing tales of his wild and brutish nature. However, Cregan is a secret softie, much to your surprise and delight.

Winterfell Hot Springs - You and your new husband Cregan take a dip in the Winterfell Hot Springs. Smut.

Winterfell Hot Springs: Jace version. - Jace and his wife visit Winterfell together for the first time. They take a liking to the caves around the hot springs. Smut.

Teach me - Jace x Female Reader x Cregan. You and Jace are both complete virgins and you want to lose it to each other but you have no idea what you’re doing. You two enlist your best friend Cregan to help give you guys advice in a rather unconventional way. Smut.

A Teacher - Jace x Female Reader x Cregan version 2.0. Alternate version of Teach Me, and sort of sequel. In this version, Cregan is a little more hands on. Smut.

Vanilla Spice - Benjicot x Female reader smut. For @earth4angels

Teenage Kicks - From your childhood to your teenage years, you and Benjicot have always had a rivalry of some sorts, messing with each other in equal measure. Now teenagers, you realize that things might not have been what they seemed. Modern Benjicot x Female reader. Non-toxic enemies to lovers, light enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, idiots in love, miscommunication. Inspired by the relationship between Robert and Scott from the 1995 film Now and Then. Also inspired by the song "Teenage Kicks" by The Undertones.

Birthday Blues - Everyone forgot your birthday, except for Benjicot Blackwood. You thought he hated you since he teased and annoyed you mercilessly but he might surprise you.

In Wonderland - After bad experiences with men, your classmate Benjicot takes you out for a wild night of fun and teaches you how to let loose, have fun and enjoy life. Benji is a manic pixie dream boy. Might be a long one-shot or a miniseries. Smut.

Mixtape - Benjicot makes a mixtape for his crush in order to win her over.

Ebb and Flow - You and Benjicot weave in and out of each other’s lives for years.

I’ll Crawl Home to Her - After the Battle of the Gullet, Jacaerys is presumed dead. But his body was lost at sea. Or was it?

As You Wish - The Princess Bride inspired AU. After the Battle of the Gullet,

Jacaerys is presumed dead and you are in mouring. Years later, you are abdubted by the man who killed him.

After Lucerys is killed above Shipbreaker Bay, his betrothed mourns him for years. She ends up unwillingly betrothed to another but feels bound by duty and knowing that her true love is dead. One day, a mysterious masked pirate kidnaps her.

Labour - You are betrothed to Jacaerys Velaryon, the crown prince, the Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne. He has been nothing but a gentleman to you upon your arrival, making sure you settle into your new home. While you are polite and courteous, you remain cold and distant and Jace is determined to find out why. Inspired by the song "Labour" by Paris Paloma.

The Dragon and the Wolf - Jace x Female Stark reader. Jace x Cregan’s sister reader. Targaryen men love their Stark ladies.

Sweet Jace - Drunk dancing in the kitchen and serenading Jace with an old song makes him fall even more in love with you, if that was even possible. Inspired by the song "Sweet Jane" by Cowboy Junkies.

It Should Be Me - Jace is jealous.

Green Eyes - You are jealous of Benjicot’s past.

Double Date - You go out on a double date with Benjicot Blackwood, his cousin Aly and her girlfriend Sabitha. The only problem? You didn’t realize it was a double date.

Untitled Biker AU - Inspired by Sons of Anarchy. You return after years away to your ex-boyfriend and first love, who you know will always protect you. Can’t decide if this will be Jace, Cregan or Benjicot.

Untitled - Vermax and Jace’s betrothed have a closer bond than everyone realized, even Jace himself.

Untitled - Jace’s wife is kidnapped by an enemy fleet and it is up to Jace to rescue her.

Untitled - You are Cregan’s sister and have been in love with Jacaerys for your entire life. Jace x Female reader. Inspired by the song "She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5.

Untitled - Benjicot Blackwood has had a crush on his classmate for years but he has no way to properly communicate that to you, so he annoys you endlessly. Or does he?

Various ideas:

Taking care of drunk Jace and vice versa

Modern AU's for Jace, Cregan and Benjicot

#hotd imagines #jace velaryon x reader #cregan stark x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #cregan stark x you #benjicot blackwood x you

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sungbeam · 6 months

Text

BIRD HUNT — three

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman

▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of weaponry, depictions of violence, use of pepper spray, breaking and entering

▷ word count. 4.4k // taglist: open

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FILE_03 : by the tail

gotham city.

[seven days since your mother was murdered.]

"Is she here?"

The voice was familiar to your sensitive ears, and although your eyes remained fixed on Mrs. Lee, you shifted your attention mentally to the two—no, three—wait… four?—figures making their way over to where you and Mrs. Lee stood in the home office space. Their footsteps were as quiet as heeled loafers could be against hollow wood floors. The Lees' home in the suburbs was a safe distance from the heart of Gotham, so the neighborhood was much nicer and much more like a home. The Lees had been ushered here after Lee Sungjae had been found murdered, and they'd resided here since.

You had been called in the day after the incident happened—that was the day after you had gone to see your father. We must work fast, Yn. They've already gotten to one of my… men. That was what he'd told you, and when he elaborated, you had discovered that every news channel now blasted footage of Lee Sungjae's dead, glassy eyes.

You had been busy since, trying to both grieve in peace and work at the same time.

"—take more time, Yn-ah. Losing a loved—" Mrs. Lee's voice cracked slightly and she covered her mouth.

"Mrs. Lee—"

She waved your hand away, angling her body away slightly so she could regain composure. "No, no. It's alright. I'm alright. I just… I know how it feels, and I think you deserve time to yourself, as well."

Of course you told her about your mother. You had to take another day off when one of your coworkers had noticed how spaced out you were when you came in. No, you didn't tell her your mother was murdered the same way her husband had. That was between you, your father, and the motherfucker who did this.

But for now, you were supposed to be here to answer the police's questions about your employer. You had been one of three of Mr. Lee's secretaries for the past several months now, having come under his employ about a year ago after Choi Enterprises turned you away. But magically, a few days afterward, this offer from the office of one Lee Sungjae had arrived in your inbox. When one door closed, as they said, another opened. Whatever guardian angel was looking over you then certainly wasn't looking over you now though.

"Miss Ln?"

You turned around and expected to see Commissioner Kim Namjoon and your co-secretary, Shin Ryujin, but you hadn't expected the two others with them. They stood behind the two aforementioned, both in black domino masks that covered the top halves of their faces. Their suits were skintight, most likely to allow for more mobility, but they also accentuated their starkly muscular figures. The taller one wore a suit of dark blue and black, while the other donned a maroon red and black ensemble. You recognized them, respectively, as Gotham's very own Nightwing and the Red Robin. Vigilantes. What were they doing with Commissioner Kim?

Ryujin bowed her way out, gently taking Mrs. Lee with her. That left you with the others.

"Hello, Miss Ln," Commissioner Kim greeted with a tired, but not unkind, smile. He fished a small notepad out of his coat pocket, ballpoint pen clicking to life. "My name is Commissioner Kim. These two… not sure if you need any introductions."

When you remained silent with only a nod, he continued, "We're here investigating the murder of your former employer, and we were informed that you often handled his familial affairs. We've already spoken with Miss Shin and Mr. Yun, but we wanted to ask where you were last Wednesday night at ten o'clock."

You were very aware that Nightwing had decided to wander about the office, eyes taking in the shelves and the notes and the desk… then there was Red Robin, who's attention was pinned intently on you, arms crossed firmly over his chest. There was something awfully familiar about these two. "Is that an accusation, Commissioner?" You asked, leaning against the edge of the desk.

"It doesn't have to be," he said airily. "Just answer the question, Miss."

"I was at home," you answered, schooling your face into neutrality. "You can ask my employer's wife and my coworkers—I was taking time off to grieve my mother's death."

The shock was not the most stark on the commissioner's face, but on Red Robin's. "She's dead?—" He coughed; even Nightwing had paused his movements. "I mean, I'm sorry for your loss." You didn't recognize the voice, but you suspected it was probably being disguised with a voice modulator.

The commissioner sent him a bewildered look, but turned back to you. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Yn. Truly." He asked with almost a grimace, "Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts? I understand you were most likely home alone, but perhaps a neighbor, a significant other…?"

And there it was again—that shift in energy as both the vigilantes in the room stopped to focus on you.

You shook your head with a tight smile. It probably wouldn't bode well if you revealed to them who your father was or that you paid the Iceberg Lounge a visit that day. You were also a little too preoccupied with survival to have a significant other, and you hadn’t been close enough to a neighbor in years. "No. Just my cats."

There was something so familiar about this Red Robin character, but you couldn't put a finger on it. Or maybe it was the way he was staring at you with such pity (and sympathy) that made you wish he was someone else. Either way, you needed to know why these two vigilantes were put on the case, and what they might have already found out. At the moment, it didn't seem like it would pose a problem, but you thought it wouldn't hurt to be a little more careful.

When you arrived home that night, bones aching as much as your head pulsed, you collapsed on the couch. A few of your cats began to swarm your legs, soft fur tickling the skin exposed when your pant leg lifted. Blue, a very introverted Russian Blue who you managed to make an extrovert when it came to you, plopped himself onto your lap like a warm, vibrating mass. You ran your fingers through his fur to the symphony of someone's purrs (you figured it was Byeol; he was quite vocal).

"Should I invite him to the funeral?" You murmured to Blue in question.

He stared back at you, then silently turned his gaze to a particle of dust floating in the air.

You exhaled back against the couch cushions. "I'll take that as a yes."

In the dead of night—because there was always a dead of night, even for Gotham City—you pulled a dark beanie over your head and the top half of your face. Two holes had been cut and sewn for your eyes to see through, and at the top of the hat, two little triangles sat akin to ears. You recalled the night you had crocheted this on a whim, your mother having done most of the work.

"Blue wants it to have cat ears, mama," you'd told her just as she brought out her tub of yarns.

Your mother's eyes glittered. "Is that right? Well, we'll have to add cat ears then, won't we?"

You thought it would be fitting to find her killer in this. You thought it fit you quite well, at least.

The rest of you was dressed in black, and your hand grazed over Soul's fluffy, white head as you propped open the second floor window. "I'll be home soon," you whispered to the last of your family, then disappeared into the night.

"I can't get why this is so familiar to me," Beomgyu voiced into the echoes of the Batcave, hands braced against the main monitor as he stared at the copy of the note: A Debt Repaid. He had been staring at it for the past week, not consecutively, but it hadn't left the forefront of his mind. Like you.

Soobin trudged over to his brother with a bowl of cereal cradled in his large palm, the other hand spooning the sweet milk and wheat flakes into his mouth. "Mm. Maybe give it a rest for a little, Beom."

"And do what?"

"How do you know Ln Yn?"

Beomgyu whirled around just as Soobin settled into the desk chair, waiting. Beomgyu made a scoffing noise, eyebrows flying up to his shaggy bangs. "Where did that come from?"

Soobin smiled and shrugged. "You tell me." He slurped up a bit more milk before adding, "You're the one who reacted like that in front of everyone when she said she was grieving her mother's death. You sounded shocked that she died."

"Well yeah, wouldn't you be shocked to hear someone else died so close to another's death?"

"Stop trying to bullshit him, Gyu."

Both the brothers looked up at the voice who had just entered the underground space. Yeonjun strolled into the main area in a white tank top and sweats, hair sticking up in different places. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned loud and wide.

Soobin cocked a brow at him. "Nice of you to finally join us, hyung. How'd the date go?"

"Great," Yeonjun quipped. "We're going on a second one soon. I think Felix almost sent me off with a kiss goodnight." He slumped onto the edge of the desk, eyes lazily taking in the images and information displayed on the many monitor screens. "This is our stiff, huh?"

Soobin sent him a look that distinctly said 'No, we're just looking at dead bodies for fun.'

"Yeah," Beomgyu replied. "The note the killer left is so familiar to me though. Have you seen it before?" He knocked his knuckles against the monitor with the note.

Yeonjun's eyes narrowed on the screen, before he leaned back with that bored look renewed on his face. "You're both idiots. It's from that one killing a couple weeks ago."

Beomgyu and Soobin traded looks. "What?"

Their eldest brother leaned down to reach the lowest drawer at the desk. From its depths, he fished out a large bag of chips and grabbed a handful to stuff his face with. "Y'know," he garbled and gestured vaguely with his crumb-dusted fingers. "Beomgyu, you know! You were there with me. It was that one lawyer guy who was found dead in his car beneath the bridge. That same note was taped to his windshield."

"Oh yeah," Beomgyu drawled, while Soobin shook his head with a sigh. The former then knocked his foot against the latter's shin. "Aye! You didn't even know it."

"Yeah, because I wasn't on that case," Soobin fired back. He finished off the rest of his bowl of cereal and set the empty ceramic in his lap before crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes, like his brothers' were lined beneath with heavy eye bags. Someone was supposed to be on patrol around the city right now, but neither of the three brothers were in any rush to get up. "So it's just one person going after these people then."

Yeonjun chewed his bottom lip. "Then we just gotta find the connection."

"Was the lawyer guy from a couple weeks ago Lee Sungjae's attorney?" Soobin asked.

Beomgyu grabbed a hold of the wireless keyboard on the desk and braced it upon his thighs. He pulled up an internet browser and typed in their inquiry. All three brothers made noises of disgruntlement; if the lawyer hadn't been Sungjae's attorney, then how were they connected? It was no secret that 99.9 percent of the population here in Gotham had some sort of… shadow looming over their shoulder. It was almost impossible to get anywhere without the help of a corrupt figure, whether that be a mob boss like the Penguin or loan shark with special strategies to get someone to pay up.

Either way, there would be lots of digging required.

"Let's start with Lee Sungjae and the lawyer's records,'' Soobin decided as he sat up in the chair. "We'll sort through phone records, acquire security footage of their movements, their texts, etcetera."

"I call none of those," Yeonjun said. When his younger brothers scowled at him, he raised both hands in feigned surrender with a giggle. "Fine, fine. You're both lookin' at me like I murdered your favorite puppy."

They remained silent.

"What, too soon?"

The basement headquarters suddenly erupted in a dull siren sound, and Beomgyu was swift to pull up a set of footage on one of the monitors. It displayed a section of the sky, a white spotlight circle cast against a massive, dark gray cumulus cloud with a distinct bat shape in the center—their call to action.

All three men were on their feet in an instant—keyboard and cereal bowl abandoned on the table, capes and utility belts clicked into place.

"Meet you losers there!" Yeonjun hollered as the cave filled with the revving roar of his motorcycle engine like a clap of thunder.

Soobin and Beomgyu hurried over to their respective cycles. "Hey, we're not done talking about Ln Yn!" Soobin called to his younger brother.

Beomgyu flashed him a thin smile. "That's what you think!" And he sped away down the runway.

Soobin chuckled to himself, grinning. Then he revved his engine and launched himself after his brothers.

To be completely honest, you had no idea what you were doing. Actually, that was a lie. You kind of knew what you were doing, but that was leagues away from completely knowing what you were doing until it was muscle memory. Right now though, as you gripped onto the side of the building, fingertips digging into the concrete ledge like a lifeline (because it might as well had been one), you couldn't wait until it became muscle memory.

God, your arms were going to ache tomorrow morning.

"It's worth it, Yn," you muttered to yourself, under your breath, and that was what made you reach up one more time and grasp onto the ledge of the window sill. You had always wondered why buildings like this lacked security cameras, but based on its practically smooth facade, it was no wonder. Only a crazy person would dare scale something like this.

The law firm building was not one of the largest nor one of the dingiest. If it had been some place like Clark & Field, you would have considered other ways to get into the building, but it would probably be through the inside (because scaling a fifty story skyscraper without a net was not on your bucket list). And if the building had been on the dingier side, it would have, frankly, been much easier to find footholds and places to brace. Except for any mold or crumbly parts. That was not fun either.

Or maybe you could classify scaling buildings as just… not fun in general. But the skills and the strength would come with time.

This time, however, was fueled by pure willpower.

But the universe was on your side for once, and the window you clung to gave way and granted you entry. The stupid lock picks had actually worked.

Despite being dead for two weeks, Yang Eunhyuk’s office still looked like its owner was still alive. There were documents left out in the open, all of the furniture had yet to be touched, there was an old (upon further investigation, really old) cup of coffee on the desk, and a two-week-old calendar for the week’s appointments and cases. You peered at the calendar and skimmed its contents, but found nothing terribly noteworthy. You strolled by the bookcase, footsteps light as a cat’s, and glimpsed the titles. There were a lot of convoluted-sounding titles on the shelves, and honestly, you doubted that he even read half of the books there. They were probably just for show when clients came in.

After you had given yourself a tour of the space, you determined that no one had truly cared enough about this man to really clean up for him. The door out into the hallway was locked, and through its frosted glass door, you could make out the distinct yellow police tape crossed over the frame. This was no crime scene, but the police had still had the room locked down… odd.

You figured they didn’t care enough. But maybe this guy had more connections than you were giving him credit for. He had been one of your father’s clients, after all. (Actually, that wasn’t enough to determine whether or not Yang was smart or not. Resorting to your father’s ever-generous solutions was stupid; and you were very well-aware that that made you stupid, too.)

Your father had sent you to this office for something in particular.

“Yang Eunhyuk was an idiot and a half,” your father had told you the day you had come to him. “But he knows how to hide his things when he needs to.” He had carefully relayed all of the necessary information to you as the two of you sat on the couch together to outline your next steps and what exactly he was asking of you. “He owes me a compilation of files and a burner phone.”

When you’d asked what for, there was that gleam in his eyes as if he found the question amusing. “Well, to find out who betrayed us, of course.”

“To find who killed Mom?”

He had nodded at you—waved his hand flippantly. “Yes. That’s the same thing, Yn.”

A burner phone and a compilation of files. Your father had already searched Yang’s personal place of residence, but there had apparently been nothing but “shit." So here you were… sorting through more shit.

You drummed the pads of your fingers on the surface of the desk.

“Where would he hide you, hm?” You murmured to yourself. You tried all of the drawers under the desk—four of the seven came up locked. The top three drawers were all filled with a smorgasbord of knick knacks and junk like a fidget spinner, fidget cube, a package of cigarettes, and even a used gum wrapper. (Gross.) You slipped a lock pick out from your sleeve as you considered the remaining four locked drawers, then realized that Yang Eunhyuk might not have kept your father’s files in the same place as his regular, ol’ case files.

And so, you moved away from the desk.

You figured there were specific places a lawyer would keep their most sensitive files to ensure discretion and privacy. You recalled how your late employer, Lee Sungjae, often had his most precious files stashed away in a place that was so obvious that no one would ever assume any person in the right mind would hide such things. For Sungjae, it had been a picture frame on the wall of his office, the one with him and his entire family pictured. It was cute; but when one peered behind it…

There was only one picture frame in the entire office space. It was small and it housed his law degree. You wondered if it was phony.

You decided to give it a chance and reached for it with a gloved hand.

When you took the frame off the wall, a frown slipped onto your face at the solid wall behind it. Huh. It was worth a—

You stepped backward and inhaled sharply when your leg hit the back of his cheap office chair. You managed to right yourself, but your ears had also perked up at a curious sound. You swiftly replaced the frame on the wall and knelt down by the desk chair and twisted your body to peer beneath it.

The sound you had heard had been a soft swish. It was subtle and not at all loud, but thanks to the empty office and your own hearing, you had picked up on it. It was practically a miracle.

Your heart pounded in excitement as you stuck your hand beneath the chair and felt up the bottom. There—you felt a distinct, padded folder—and there—

Your fingers wrapped around a small device no bigger than the palm of your hand. It must have been attached to the bottom of the chair with some kind of tape, and you gave it a good yank. And behold… in your hand was the alleged burner phone, staring up at you, just begging for you to sneak a peek into its logs. But before you could, you removed the file that had been hidden beneath the chair as well. It was a standard manila folder stuffed to the brim with papers and, you assumed, lots of sensitive information. Your eyes were widening like your smile as you just struck gold.

Not too bad for your first time in a while.

You startled at the sound of a thump.

There was a figure, a shadow, standing on the window sill by the end of the desk. He was familiar to you with his dark hair and domino mask, and his red and black uniform. His cape flowed from just off the precipices of his shoulders and hung around the backs of his knees—imposing and regal but not in the way of any movements he made. The Red Robin had stood before you just earlier in the day at Lee Sungjae’s suburban home. He had been the one with the familiar presence to you, along with his… colleague? You didn’t know his and Nightwing’s association or relationship, but you weren’t about to interact long enough to find out.

“Breaking and entering is illegal, y’know,” the masked vigilante mused, and you could just make out the shadow of his smirk in the darkness. “Even at crime scenes.”

You rose from your spot on the floor, slipping the burner into the holster pocket on the garter around your thigh and tucking the file in the crook of your arm. There wasn’t really a place you could hide the chunky piece of shit. Despite your heart palpitating in your chest, you maintained a cool exterior. He didn’t know who you were, and you expected that he wouldn’t be able to recognize your voice since you had only spoken to him once.

“Nothing done in Gotham is illegal,” you replied to him.

His head cocked to the side, arms folding over his chest. “You’re not wrong about that. But…” He nodded at the file folder. “I really can’t let you leave with that.”

Oh, dear god. You needed an escape plan—and fast.

Nothing was coming to mind; it was just get out get out get out! (Very helpful, as always.)

“I’m sure you can make an exception for me,” you said with a mocking pout. “How’d you even know I was here? I didn’t realize Yang Eunhyuk had a connection to Gotham’s exclusive Bat Boys.”

A scoff from him. “He doesn’t. Your luck just happened to be running out, sweetheart.” He stepped off the window sill and entered the office, stalking toward you with slow, methodical steps because he knew you were cornered. You really should have tried that office door when you had the chance.

As you began backing away, you shook his head and tsked. “C’mon,” he coaxed. “Give me the folder.”

“And I can go?” You wondered how fast you could disappear once you flung yourself out of that window.

He smiled. “If you give me that burner, too, sure.”

Your heart stopped for a millisecond. God damn it.

He must have seen the doubt in your eyes, and that fucking smile of his widened. Something about that was tug-tug-tugging a nerve. He stopped walking toward you as you slowly made a move to set the file down on the floor. “Good girl.”

The file flopped onto the wooden floor.

"Slowly," he drawled, eyes glued to your form as he watched your hand move toward the holster pouch.

All the while, you were counting down in your head.

Before he could blink, you swung a leg out and kicked the file back behind Red Robin and toward the window. His head swerved in that direction, and you launched yourself at him before he could realize his mistake.

You kicked at him, one-two, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a virus. He blocked your blows, just as you swung around and made a grab for his mask.

He caught your wrist; you whirled—it was a high stakes tango you had not been prepared for. But you jabbed your elbow behind you, fist flying up toward his nose. Every move you made was desperate and offensive.

You slipped free and ducked, body curling under his arm, under his cape, until you ended up in the flurry of the dark fabric.

The vigilante knew his own cape though. You gave him that much.

He grabbed the opposite end and arced it over your head, arm coming down to wrap you in it—but you threw yourself out of it, landing a swift blow to his shin. Wouldn't do much except make him curse and loosen his grip slightly.

The file was in sight—oh god, it was right the fuck there.

You made a mad dash for it, leaning down slightly and reaching out with your hand—

"Not so fast, kitty—"

You hit the floor with a curse, palms flat against the wood. His foot had hooked around yours and tripped you, his knee set against your back like his own palm as he held you against the floor.

You felt his breath by your ear. "What's in the file, sweetheart?"

"None of your concern," you gritted out, then throwing your head back until you heard and felt that telltale "fuck!" from Red Robin.

You ignored the throbbing in the back of your skull to fling yourself around and throw off his balance again. Your hand dove into your holster pocket to retrieve the small cylinder of mace, then sprayed it in a final move of desperation, breath and chest heaving.

The man sputtered, hand flying up to his mouth as he stumbled backward and tried to eject the chemical from his body. "Dirty fucking move," he spat as you turned tail and made for the file.

Only—

"Looking for this?"

Two others had joined the party, to your absolute horror. Nightwing stood with the file in his hand, while Red Hood—the vigilante from the bank, and supposedly Choi Yeonjun based on your deductions—was perched up on the window sill with zero care in the world.

Well shit.

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 6 months

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 13

I hope you all enjoy! please comment and reblog and tell me what u enjoyed <3

MASTAPOST

The reality hit Maddie like a truck, once they’d ferried the kids home, and returned to Fentonworks. Bruce Wayne had excused himself, and went back to his hotel after bidding farewell to them.

That left her and Jack alone on the couch. Jazz was upstairs, probably studying psychology and sciences, on her way to be a genius just like her family.

Just like Danny.

Tears wracked Madeline. Jack was openly sobbing at the couch. Not the silly way he would sometimes cry at small things that he would get over quickly. Maddie could feel the bone-deep anger and grief seeping through her and her husband.

She needed to tell Jazz. Tell her what had happened. But she dreaded the thought of talking to her daughter in this state. It wouldn’t do to give her the news and then break down underneath Jazz’s feet.

That thought didn’t do much to stem the tide. Maddie idly reached for the tea, cold from where they’d left it in the afternoon. The realization that this was happening again, again in the family, rocked her to her bones. Maddie’s mind conjured up images of blood over wooden floors, and red hair spilling out and covering still, dead eyes. Claw marks over a bruised throat.

She had trusted Danny. Loved him more than anything. What mother couldn’t trust their child? That sweet boy whose eyes sparkled with kindness and who jumped up and down on dreams of seeing the stars. His kindness meant he gave anything a chance. She had thought she’d lost him. She had raged and tore through everything and everyone and suddenly, through no result of her actions, he came.

And now he was gone again. Taken, just like her great-great-grandpappy. Just like so many others across the world. Just like Alicia’s son. Never to be seen again.

There had to be a way, an answer. There had to be some kind of inconsistency in the data. Something that could show the path forward, a path where her baby boy could still be out there and able to returned home safe.

Maddie descended the stairs into the labs, ready to look over dusty notebooks, and old journals. Jack followed her soon after, not a word exchanged between them.

To say Bruce Wayne was shaken was an understatement. That girl, Samantha, had no idea what she was talking about. All Bruce was interested in was the safety of his son and Daniel Fenton, and the pursuit of justice.

That didn’t mean she would’ve had a point, once upon a time. How Jason came back, but it wasn’t a joyous celebration, but the beginning of more pain, more misunderstanding and accusation. How Damian first came to them. He had a son who had finally returned home, but there was no celebration then either.

They had just started to get along again. They were this close to being happy.

Bruce held his head in his hands. He needed to review the facts again. The facts, the players, the unknowns and mysteries. Damian just had to be out there, he just had to.

Sirens, the GiW, the Fentons… Where to begin?

A message pinged on his comm. It was from Tim. Had he finished sifting through the files?

Bruce opened his laptop, seeing an email with attached analysis and files. Good work, Tim. He knows how hard it must be for him, to dedicate this effort into saving a brother with whom he had a very rocky start.

The email confirmed many of his suspicions. Tim was able to recover the majority of the files that Tucker Foley had attempted to destroy. Damning evidence showed Samantha and Tucker engaging directly against various sirens, using magic and technology respectively. Daniel Fenton was nowhere near such attacks, but his role as supplier to Phantom was clear. At several points over the last few months, the boy could be seen sneaking into secluded areas with experimental weapons and gadgets stuffed into his pockets, that would later be seen in the webbed hands of Phantom.

Daniel was hardly ever seen in the same vicinity as Phantom, or any other siren. That was not surprising. The kid wasn’t athletic in any way like Samantha, nor did he have her talent for the mystical arts. He didn’t have Tucker’s affinity for technology, either. That, combined with the obvious discomfort around his parents’ grudge against sirens meant that it was reasonable he’d avoid being seen around sirens at all costs, while silently supporting them from the background.

The kid had his convictions, was for sure. But what kind of motive would cause the boy to do such a thing? Going against his parents was normal, almost ubiquitous at that age range. Did this trio harbour desires of becoming a hero, like Dick and Jason and all others that followed?

Tucker Foley kept Tim and the Batcomputer out for half an hour with nothing but a laptop. Sam Manson had an incredible drive to do right, and a less impressive sense of restraint (it pained him how much of his children that reminded him).

It was clear they had the hearts of heroes, and the potential too. But those desires landed his children in immense pain over the years, failures Bruce would regret for the rest of his days, and now those same failures repeated once more.

He needed to do this, for them.

The GiW were suspect. He would need to direct the Batcave into cracking their secrets open. Those men could not be trusted one bit. Not their DNA test, not their documents, not their badges. And certainly not for their CSI skills. They didn’t even report whether there were signs of a struggle on the island where Damian’s blood was found!

And for what motives did the sirens even abduct people in the first place? The more he considered, the more the GiW’s explanation of Damian being devoured seemed like utter bullshit. He hoped that was not denial speaking.

Bruce began to plan.

His phone rang. He ignored it. He formed a list of contacts to call upon for advice and consultation.

His phone rang again. He made a web of connections to the Fentons.

His phong rang, rang, rang again. A collage of every unsolved missing persons’ case ‘from the last twenty years.

The phone answered itself on speaker. It jolted Bruce from his work. Alfred’s stern voice sounded out. “Master Bruce, you are spiraling again, sir.”

Bruce hummed. “I’m working, Alfred.”

“Yes, I know. However, in your pursuit to discover Master Damian’s whereabouts, I must remind you that your other children still need their father. Master Timothy is on his eighth cup of coffee, and Master Richard has sent twelve common crooks to the emergency room. Master Jason had to calm him down, sir. They need you, sir.” Alfred stressed.

Bruce stood up, his back cricking from the strain of hunching over documents and files. He stared at the growing pile of papers on his desk and tabs on his laptop, before sweeping them all to the side.

“You’re right, Alfred. Thank you for reminding me.”

Why? Why? Why, why, why, why why? That was the question running through the Fenton parents’ heads as they combed over observations, data, charts, and historical records. The documents and files sprawled out over the floor of the lab. They had to find the connection, if there was one out there.

Why did the sirens abduct humans?

Despite what the goons in white thought, the biologist in Maddie found herself doubting it was all for food. Considering their latest population estimates, the amount of humans required to sustain siren numbers was completely impractical.

Ok, maybe they don’t have to eat humans, but do it as a luxury?

Such a hypothesis would have seemed more plausible, had there not been a plethora of new data counteracting that point. The Amity Island sirens pursued a number of different goals, very few of which overlapped, very few of which involved eating humans in any way. If there was an incentive to eat humans or even just abduct, then far, far more people would’ve been grabbed off the piers and beaches, even if Phantom could stop them all.

That lead to another question. Why would the sirens of Amity not even bother with abductions for the most part, when the majority of sightings and suspected siren incidents were brought to light because of the missing people?

Maddie kicked the wall. The impact resounded and echoed through the room.

Jack wrapped his arms around her waist tenderly, a calm presence. Maddie’s heart relaxed a little, the scent of chocolate bringing her back to warm nights with the kids. “You know this reminds me of a story grandpa Fenton told me about when he was a kid back during the war.” Jack said quietly. “His grandpa used to be a surveyor or analyst or some kind of smart guy at some big factory, makin’ planes to fight the Japanese. One morning he was banging his head on the desk.”

Maddie wasn’t sure where Jack was going with this, but she nodded for him to continue.

“And so Grandpa Fenton asked him, ‘Gramps, what’s the big deal?’ and great great grandpa showed him these pictures. They showed where bullet holes would appear, said it was to design better armour for ‘em. But the strangest thing was that none of the bullet holes were in the engines or near the tail. Gramps was seriously worked up about it! Spent all day pacin’ back and forth.”

Maddie gasped. Jack continued, although trailing off. “Anyway when Grandpa Fenton told me about it, all I could think of was how nice that they had planes comin’ back anyway. Have you seen the casualty rates for those things? Gave me the stuff of nightmares!”

Information whirled through Maddie’s head.

“And that’s how I gave up my dreams of being a fighter pilot!”

“Jack, you’re a genius!” She shouted. Jack blinked.

“Huh? What for?”

Maddie jumped up and kissed her amazing husband. This was a breakthrough.

It was survivorship bias. The reason none of the planes returning had bullet holes in the engines and lower fuselage was because the planes that had taken hits there were too damaged to return in the first place!

They were too busy looking at what they could see and not spending enough time looking for what they couldn’t. Jack’s great, great grandpa needed to look at the situation holistically, and from there it would all make sense.

What did that mean?

Sirens were crafty. And as they learnt from the attacks on Amity, they were petty, ambitious, power-hungry, lustful, and vengeful, among many other insidious attributes.

She and Jack had been fixating on the missing people cases, but what if those cases were only a small number of the illicit criminal dealings these monsters had been unknowably perpetrating in the human world? And if sirens can commit many, many other crimes than mindlessly violence and murder, then that means there could be any number of other reasons they could abduct a human.

If they wanted revenge or to satisfy their bloodlust, would they not have left a body somewhere? But no such body of either Damian Wayne or Danny was found. If they ate the boys, then the blood would’ve attracted sharks, but no sharks were to be found either.

Terrifying scenarios passed through Maddie’s mind. Slavery, trafficking, arena fighting. Any number of horrendous crimes that would not require any spilt blood. Horrors unimaginable for a woman to see her child suffer through. But a tiny, faint light shone through all of them: hope.

Because she had reason now to believe Danny and Damian Wayne were alive, out there somewhere, praying for their parents to come save them from the nightmare.

Jack blinked, expression blank. “You know I don’t mind staring at your beautiful face for hours, but I feel like there’s something you’ve figured out.”

Maddie’s eyes turned steely and determined. “Jack, get the SAV ready. We’re going on a hunt.”

The only one who knew where the boys were was Phantom, and Maddie would extract every secret that menace kept, even if it meant tearing him apart. Molecule. By. Molecule.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #angst #mermaid au #maddie fenton #jack fenton #good parents jack and maddie #bruce wayne #good parent bruce wayne

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 1 year

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One Bad Day....Jason's Death

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 8. Panic Attack, 12. Character Death, 23. Begging, 31. Crying, Alt. 13. Grief Fandom: Batman, Batfam, Batmom, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd Summary: Before Red Hood rescued her, before she was in prison, before she killed The Joker, Batmom experiences one of the most devastating losses of her life. Word Count: 5587 TW: Canon Character Death, Mentions of Torture, Brief Description of Injuries, Grief, Breakdown, Tears, Anger, Character Picks Up Reader Note: This is part of the One Bad Day.... series but can be read as a one-shot (though best to be read after Part 3)Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event.

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It has been three days since you have heard from either Bruce or Jason and you are starting to get worried. Actually, you are way past worried—you are terrified. Something is wrong, you can feel it in your gut. A gnawing queasiness deep in your stomach that has you unable to eat or sleep while you wait for some sort of news.

Usually, you wouldn’t give this radio silence a second thought. While Bruce tries to send some sort of word as often as he can while out of town, it just isn’t always possible. Especially when he is away on this kind of work. Batman is a force of secrets and mystery. He can’t always risk finding a way to call his wife to tell her he is alright.

You pull the blanket that is draped over your shoulders tighter around you and continue pacing. Alfred had placed it there a few ago, the last time he had come to check on you. When you had first begun to worry, the butler had remained by your side providing constant reassurance and support. But after a while, once it became clear you wanted to be alone, he retreated upstairs. Occasionally, he returned to the Batcave to bring you some food, water, or something to keep you warm, but otherwise, he had been keeping his distance. However, you know the second you call for him, he will instantly be there to get you whatever he possibly can. If only he could get you the one thing you truly wanted right now….

As if summoned by your silent wish, you suddenly hear the distant roar of a familiar engine growing louder by the second. Whirling around, a huge smile of relief on your face, you turn just in time to see the Batmobile burst into the cave and come to a stop in its usual spot. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe again as the driver-side door opens up and you catch a glimpse of Bruce, still in his Batman costume though he has removed his cowl and gloves.

Throwing your arms open wide as you approach the car, you exclaim, “There’s my boys!” Bruce doesn’t look at you as he climbs out of the Batmobile and walks slowly over to the passenger side. “I was just about to send out a search party. How was Ethiopia? Did you find–”

You stumble to a halt, your smile slipping from your face. An icy vice clamps down on your heart as you see Bruce lift something out of the Batmobile: a small limp figure wrapped in a torn yellow cape that reveals small glimpses of the red suit underneath through the holes and tears. Though the cape is also draped across the person’s face, you know immediately who is under it.

“No….” you gasp as your blanket slips from your shoulders to pool at your feet. “No, no, Bruce, no. Please, no.”

As you wait for Bruce’s response, you cling to that last fragile shred of hope that it’s not what you think, that maybe he’s just hurt under there or sleeping or…or…….

But as your husband silently walks past you and lays the body on one of the nearby tables, the drawn, pained expression on his face coupled with the tender care he takes carefully arranging it is the final confirmation you need.

Dropping to your knees, you let out an almost inhuman wail as the truth of the situation slams into you like a nuclear blast. Your baby’s gone. Jason is dead. And you have lost yet another child.

You collapse forward, your forehead pressing hard against the cold cave floor as another wail tears through your chest. No. It can’t be true. Jason has to be alive. He has to be. Oh please, God, please don’t tell me you’ve taken my baby from me. Not again. Please.

As you continue to sob—worldless howls of grief and pain—you feel Bruce drape himself over you as if trying to shield you from this agony….but it’s too late. The damage has already been done and you have been irreparably broken.

In what seems like hours later, once you have exhausted yourself to the point you no longer have the energy or tears left to cry, Bruce sits back and pulls you carefully into his lap. As you lay curled in his arms with your head resting on his chest, you can feel his heart beating beneath you—so strong and steady—and it hits you that you will never again feel Jason’s heartbeat or hear him take a breath. All of those little signs of life you take for granted are just gone…and so is he.

Lifting your head to gaze up at your husband, you force your words through your aching throat, torn raw from all your screaming, and you ask, “What happened?”

“The Joker,” Bruce says as he brushes a tear off your cheek. “He used Jason’s birthmother to lure him in, then he placed both of them in a warehouse that was rigged to explode. I arrived just as the bomb went off. I….I was too late to save him.”

The sound of Bruce’s voice breaking and the tears in his voice sends another jolt of pain into your heart and you nuzzle your head into his neck as you squeeze his hand. He silently squeezes back and you have to stifle a groan as you feel the bones in your hand shift and crack in his grasp, but you don’t say anything. You just let him continue to squeeze your hand long after the point it turns numb.

You haven’t seen Bruce fall apart since the two of you lost the baby. Regardless of what heartbreaks or fights had come your way in the years since, Bruce had remained calm and stoic through it all. It’s just who he was. He was your rock, your lifeline in the roughest of waters, your source of comfort when you needed it the most—so the sight of him breaking adds another layer of grief to your own.

When he finally loosens his grip and you can tell he has regained some of his composure, you whisper, “Did he…. Did he hurt him before…?”

Bruce hesitates for a moment before murmuring, “You don’t need to know the details.”

Which means yes. The Joker had probably tortured and beaten your baby bloody before blowing him up. Another sob threatens to tear from your lips, but you manage to quell it so it is just a whine deep in your throat. You had cried enough for the moment. Right now, you need answers and to come up with a plan. But first…you need something else.

Untangling yourself from Bruce’s arms, you unsteadily get to your feet and begin walking over to the table. Bruce leaps up when he sees what you are doing and he gently grabs your shoulders blocking your path. “Don’t. Sweetheart, just…just don’t. Trust me.”

“Let me go. I need to see him.”

You try to shrug him off but he holds you firmly in place. “No. You don’t. Don’t let that be the last image you have of him—I wish it wasn’t mine. He’s gone and seeing him like that won’t bring him back. So, I’m begging you, don’t.”

“Get out of my way, Bruce,” you growl as you glare up at your husband. “I need to see our son. I need to see what that monster did to him.”

For a moment, you aren’t sure what Bruce is going to do. His eyes flit across your face, trying to find the slightest hesitation he can grasp onto. But when he doesn’t find any, he sighs and slowly lowers his hands as he bows his head and whispers, “Please…Don’t look.”

But you have already pushed past him before he finishes his sentence.

You approach the table with a determined stride, yet you hesitate once you reach it. Jason was always a slight kid, even verging on scrawny, but he had never seemed smaller or more vulnerable than as your hand hovers over the cape still draped over him. Even that first night Bruce brought him home to you, he had so much fire and spirit in his little twelve-year-old body that his presence filled the room. Now, three years later, that fire and spirit had been extinguished and it hits you all over again how young he truly was—how young he would always be.

You feel Bruce come to stand just behind you but he doesn’t say a word. He has tried his best to stop you so now all he can do is wait for you to live with your decision and be there for the aftermath. Knowing he is right there for you gives you a renewed sense of strength and as you take a deep breath, you pull back the cape to look at your son.

Bruce was right. You shouldn’t have looked.

Some of the damage you are expecting based on what Bruce told you. Burns litter Jay’s face and neck as well as his hands. In some places, they are light, almost invisible unless the light catches them just so. However, in other spots, the burns are so severe you can almost see down to the bone. His hands are the worst, so charred and blackened that you fear touching them despite the longing in your chest to hold his hand once more in yours. Looking at the burn patterns, it seems heartbreakingly clear that Jason had tried to protect himself from the blast by throwing his hands in front of his face…he had seen it coming.

Yet as horrible as that realization is, far worse is the damage you weren’t expecting to see on your son.

Beneath the burns and debris from the bomb, Jason’s body is broken, bruised, and bloody in ways that an explosion couldn’t have caused. One arm and leg jut out at odd angles and there are dark bruises all over his face, neck, and the parts of his torso you can see through his ruined suit. One eye is swollen and black, his nose is bent sharply to one side, and his lip is split open wide. You have seen enough blunt-force trauma up close and personal to understand what had to have caused all of this.

Casting one last longing look at your son, you turn to face Bruce. You are visibly shaking, and when you speak, your voice is dripping with venomous fury, “Where is he?”

“Clark is tracking him down and he’ll alert me the second he finds him.”

“And then?” Bruce glances away, unable to look at you. Disbelief washes over you and you step closer to your husband. “Bruce, don’t tell me you are thinking of letting him live.”

“It’s not our place to–”

“He killed our son!” you hiss as you point to the body of the child you both loved. “Jason is—Jason is dead because of that maniac! We can’t let The Joker get away with this!”

“We won’t.” Bruce takes your face between his hands and bends over so his forehead is almost touching yours. “I swear to you, we will find him and throw him back into Arkham where he belongs.”

Wrenching from his grasp in disgust, you snarl, “For how long? A few weeks? A month if we’re lucky? Then he’ll just find another way to escape like he always does and he’ll hurt more innocent people, more people we love. How can you not see that this has to end? That it should have ended years ago.”

“My heart—” Bruce tries to take your hand but once again you snatch it away from him. “I know you don’t always agree with it, but we have a code. A code you agreed to follow when you joined me. And that code means that no matter what The Joker or anyone else does, We. Don’t. Kill. Otherwise, what makes us any better than them?”

“Maybe I don’t care about being better than them anymore. We’ve done things by the book, followed your rules, and where has that left us? Two dead children and a third who barely survived being shot. And you still talk about trusting the same system that allowed it to happen in the first place. Well, who’s next, Bruce? Who will be the next victim in your moral war? Alfred? Dick?....Me? Whose death will it take for you to realize that this won’t end unless we make it end?”

Bruce stares at you as if he is looking at a stranger and not his wife of ten years. Shaking his head slightly, he says, “I understand you’re hurting right now and you’re not thinking clearly. But once some time has passed and the feelings aren’t as raw, you’ll—”

“I’ll what? Forget my son is dead?” you snap.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean? Give it time and things will just go back to normal? That this pain will fade and I won’t care that my son was murdered?”

“Our son.”

“What?”

“Our son,” Bruce says. His voice has a sharp edge to it that momentarily takes you aback. “You keep saying ‘my son’ like you’re the only one who lost him. I know what you and Jay had was special but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him too, or that I’m not in agony right now. I had to watch, helplessly, as that warehouse exploded knowing I was too late to save him. Then, I dug with my bare hands for almost an hour through the wreckage praying for a miracle only to find—” Bruce presses his hand over his eye as he takes a long, slow, shaking inhale then continues “And then I had to fly home watching vigil over our son’s body, all the while dreading this moment. Knowing I was coming home to shatter the woman I love. But the only thing that made that thought bearable was knowing we could mourn together and lean on each other for comfort. Yet all you can focus on is revenge and murder!”

“No, Bruce. I’m focusing on keeping the family I still have safe. I’m focusing on protecting this city just as you swore to do. I’m focusing on ending terror and chaos in the streets. And if that means one psychotic clown has to die to make that happen, then so be it.”

“We do not cross that line. Ever. No matter who we think deserves it. That’s just how things have to be.”

“Don’t you get it! Jason would still be alive if you had just—” All of your fury evaporates instantly and you inhale sharply as you realize what you were about to blurt out. Bruce’s expression hardens into a stone-cold mask usually reserved for the most lowsome of criminals and, stumbling back, you stutter, “I-I mean…I—”

“If I had what? Say it. Say it!” Now it is your turn to not meet his eye yet he pushes on. “You were going to say that if I had just killed The Joker years ago, Jason would still be alive!”

“I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out,” you whisper. “I know this isn’t your fault, Bruce. You told him not to go but I encouraged him to do what he thought he had to do. That I would support whatever decision he made.” Your voice cracks as you choke out, “I sent our baby off to his death, not you.”

It is the thought that has been nagging at the back of your head since you saw Bruce lift Jason’s body from the Batmobile. The unbearable truth you’ve been unable to face. Bruce had known something felt off about the situation and he insisted Jason stayed home. But when Jason came to you saying he had found his birthmother and needed to go see her, you put your foot down and forced Bruce to take him. If you had just listened to Bruce, if you had just really examined the facts instead of wanting to show Jason you were supportive, your son would still be alive.

Suddenly, it felt like the walls of the Batcave were closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath. Stumbling back a few steps, you say, “I-I can’t do this. I have to get out of here.”

The anger in Bruce’s face disappears as quickly as it appeared. He reaches out to you with a soft, “Sweetheart—” but you continue to back away.

“No. No, I need to go. I-I need to be alone.”

Bruce nods slowly. “Alright. That’s okay. Why don’t you go take a long shower and lay down and I’ll take care of things down here. I’ll come check on you when I’m done.”

You nod back and hurry over to the stairs leading up to the manor. But just as you begin to climb them, you pause and mumble, “I’ll be in Jay’s room.” then flee up the stairs before Bruce can stop you.

Once back in the manor, you move in an almost trancelike state towards the bedrooms. As you pass the kitchen, you hear a soft sniffling and you realize Alfred must have come down into the Batcave at some point and seen what happened. You have been so preoccupied with your own grief, you completely forgot about the butler who loved Jason almost as much as you and Bruce did.

Part of you wants to go back and join him. After all, Alfred always knows how to fix anything and everything and maybe, somehow, he can fix this too. Yet as much as it pains you to admit, there are just some things even Alfred Pennyworth can’t do. So you continue walking.

When you reach Jason’s room, you don’t even pause before opening the door and shuffling in. In one fluid movement, you collapse onto your son’s bed and roll over, dragging his comforter with you until you are cocooned beneath the blanket.

It seems impossible that just three nights ago you were sitting on this very bed with Jason next to you as he told you about how he had been tracking down his birthmother. He had been so scared to tell you for fear he would hurt your feelings. But you had just gathered him into your arms and pressed your lips into his hair as you promised him you would always be his “Ma” regardless of what happened on his search. That you would always love him….

Tears you did not think you could still cry began slipping silently down your cheeks. What would you have done differently if you had known that was the last time you would see your son? What else would you have said to make him understand how much he meant to you? How he had saved you from your grief once before and how you still needed him now?

You bury your face deeper into his pillow as you finally allow yourself to ask the question that you know will haunt you the rest of your life:

Could I have saved you if I had been there?

For the next twelve days, little changes. The only time you leave Jason’s bed is to go to the bathroom, but otherwise, you lay curled in the center of his bed wrapped in his blankets and staring at his wall. Bruce and Alfred take turns coming to check on you several times a day, usually bringing food or drinks and trying their best to coax you into consuming something. You take a little nibble here and there or take a few sips of water, but it isn’t long before you return to your near catatonic state.

Even when Dick arrives a few days after you learned of Jason’s death, it doesn’t make much of a difference. You do allow him to climb into the bed with you where you wrap him in a bone-crushing embrace, afraid if you let go you’ll lose him just like your other children. But eventually, he has to leave and you resume your solitary existence.

On day seven, Bruce slips into bed behind you and wraps his arms around you. For a long time, the two of you just lay there in silence. Then, softly, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Please, sweetheart, please come back to me. I know you’re hurting. So am I. But I just lost Jason and I can’t….I can’t lose you too. Please, let me in. Let us help each other through this….Together.”

You know he’s right, and it kills you to know you are only adding to his heartbreak, but you just don’t have the strength or the will to be what he needs right now. So, you remain motionless in his embrace, your eyes never shifting their unseeing stare at the wall.

Eventually, Bruce accepts nothing is going to change. Pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, he whispers, “I love you. Please never forget that. And I’ll be waiting, as soon as you’re ready.” Then he slips from the bed and you are alone once more.

The next major change in your routine comes exactly two weeks after Jason’s death when Bruce and Alfred walk into Jason’s room holding a simple black dress. Silently, you allow them to put it on you before they lead you downstairs where Dick is waiting with the car. No one has to tell you where you are going. You already know.

For the short drive, Bruce sits next to you in the backseat, holding your hand tightly as he presses his lips against your temple with whispers of encouragement and love. You squeeze his hand back but make no other acknowledgment of his presence or support. You catch Dick glancing back at you in the rearview mirror a few times, concern etched on his face, and you wonder what he sees when he looks at you. That thought makes you withdraw even further into yourself in shame.

As Alfred pulls to a stop, you make no move to exit the car. Alfred and Dick both glance at Bruce for some sort of guidance as to how to proceed, and he motions for them to get out. Once you are alone, Bruce pulls you into his arms. “If I could spare you from this, you know I would. But we have to make some sort of public show or it’s going to look suspicious. And people are already asking questions. But I promise, the second we’re done, I’ll take you back up to the house. Okay?”

You nod, knowing he is right however much you despise it, and he smiles softly. Placing his finger under your chin so he can tilt your head back, Bruce kisses your forehead as he whispers, “That’s my girl.”

Then sliding his hand into yours, he opens his car door and steps out before helping you out. Immediately you are met with flashing lights and the whirring click of hundreds of cameras all pointed in your direction. You try to ignore them as Bruce leads you down the path lined with photographers and reporters, your face a blank mask void of any emotion.

But that mask becomes harder to maintain as you hear the slight tittering of whispers passing through the crowd. And though you have over a decade of experience being the subject of Gotham’s rumor mill to get used to the kinds of things people say about you, these reach a new level of cruelty:

“Look at the heartless whore. Can’t even spare a single tear for that poor boy Bruce so kindly took in.”

“I heard she didn’t even want to come today but Bruce insisted. Can you imagine? He deserves so much better.”

“She wasn’t even there when he died. Bruce planned a family trip overseas and she refused to go. She would rather stay here to be waited on hand and foot by that butler of theirs than spend time with her supposed family.”

“I bet she had something to do with the boy’s death. Probably didn’t want to share the Wayne fortune with anyone else. Bruce and the older boy should watch their backs. They could be next.”

You remember a time when you would have gone off on these people. Snapped back about how they didn’t know anything about you or your relationship with your family. Caused such a scene Bruce would have had to sheepishly drag you away while his face glowed bright red. But not today. Today all you want to do is curl up in a ball in front of them as you sob, asking how they can be so cruel or heartless to not see your pain or the devastation at your loss. How they could come here—here of all places—just to add to your suffering.

But you don’t. Instead, you allow Bruce to continue leading you forward until you stop in front of the freshly dug grave with the casket placed beside it.

Bruce (well, probably Alfred) had worked out all the details while you were locked in Jason’s room. A plot had been selected in the small graveyard on the edge of the Wayne estate, right next to where Bruce’s parents were buried. The casket is closed so you can’t see how they dressed Jay, but Bruce had promised you in the car that he tucked Jason’s Robin mask into his pocket like you asked. It was the only input you had given on the whole ceremony but it did make you feel a little better knowing he had it with him.

To the world, this may just be the funeral of Jason Todd, but in reality, today you are burying two people, and you wanted to honor that.

Dick comes to stand next to you so you are sandwiched between him and Bruce. Though you don’t as much as glance in his direction, you are grateful to have your remaining son beside you. It is a calming reminder that not everyone has been taken from you. At least…not yet.

As the ceremony starts, you hold your head high and stare straight ahead. It is harder than you thought, the weight of a hundred eyes boring into the back of your head, but you manage to remain calm and composed throughout the sermon.

It isn’t until they begin lowering the casket into the ground that everything goes wrong.

Unable to take your eyes off of the box containing your son as it disappears into the dirt, your body begins trembling violently as your knees give out underneath you. Luckily, Bruce catches you before you hit the ground but his touch does little to ease your trembling.

Still staring at the casket, you begin repeating, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

Bruce pulls you tight against his chest, allowing you to bury your face into his jacket to muffle to sound. You claw desperately at the back of his suit, your chanting becoming more frenzied by the moment despite no longer looking at the grave. It’s just too much. All of it’s too much. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

Mercifully, Bruce gently lifts you into his arms and carries you back to the car. You cling tightly to him, your arms around his neck, even as you continue shaking and babbling, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

“Shhh….” Bruce coos gently. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You did so good. I know he’d be proud of you, just like I am. But it’s over now, and I’m taking you back to the manor just like I promised. It’s going to be okay.”

You nod into his neck as you finally manage to quiet down some. The words are still swirling in your head but at least they are no longer spewing from your lips. You thought you were stronger than this. You thought you could at least hold it together for an hour for your family’s sake, but you were so wrong.

Even though it had been a closed casket funeral, knowing Jay was in there, seeing it disappear into the ground forever…it finalized everything in a way you hadn’t felt yet. All those days laying in Jason’s room, numb and disconnected from the world, you had distanced yourself from the reality of the truth. But there was no escaping it now. Jason was gone and there was nothing you could do to change that.

When you reach the manor, Bruce once again lifts you into his arms though you half-heartedly tell him you can walk on your own yet part of you is glad when he ignores you and continues to carry you up the stairs. You are somewhat surprised when Bruce returns you to Jason’s room without even asking. For some reason, you had assumed he would try to take you to the master bedroom to be with him.

You expect him to climb into bed or kneel down beside it, but once again he shocks you as he simply turns and walks to the door. He only pauses a moment to say, “I had Alfred put a fresh change of pajamas on the dresser.” Then he walks out and closes the door behind him.

You aren’t sure what to think about this. Has Bruce finally given up trying to reach you? Was he more embarrassed about your behavior at the funeral than he admitted? Or has he finally accepted you need time alone to deal with your loss?

Still pondering his behavior, you climb out of bed and slip off the black dress you are wearing. Tossing it to the side, you walk over to the dresser to look for the clothes Bruce mentioned. The sooner you get them on, the sooner you can return to your blanket cocoon and lose yourself to your fog of grief once more.

But as you spy the pajamas and you reach for them, your eyes land on something on the wall. Despite the fact today is May 11, Jason’s calendar is still turned to April. Since he left for Ethiopia on April 25th and was killed on the 27th, he never got the chance to change it. He would never know which classical author’s picture had been selected for May. Instead, Jason ran out of time and now it will forever be stuck on William Shakespeare.

Time….If only you had more time….

Three and a half years. That’s all the time you had with your son. It seems insane that someone who was in your life for such a short amount of time could leave such an impact on you, but there is no denying it. You know deep in your soul that you could not have loved Jason more if you had given birth to him or known him since the day he was born. He is your son just as much as Dick is, as much as the baby you had lost is, and now he’s gone too.

And it’s all because of The Joker.

For the first time since you had crawled into Jason’s room that first night, something besides sorrow stirs in your gut. The red-hot burn of vengeance that you have let your grief extinguish suddenly flares to life in your veins and your hands clench tightly on the edge of the dresser.

Memories begin flashing through your mind: Sitting next to the bed, begging God to save an 18-year-old Dick as he clung to life after being shot by The Joker while on patrol; Monitoring the Batcomputer in horror as The Joker released his laughing gas throughout the streets of Gotham; Listening to Lt. Gordon’s sobs as he told Bruce what The Joker had done to Barbara; Watching Bruce lift Jason’s lifeless body out of the Batmobile as your heart shattered in your chest.

He is responsible for all this death and this pain, year after year after year. He is the reason other villains think they can get away with whatever deadly scheme they have up their sleeves. He is why Arkham Asylum has become a swinging door deterrent that no one fears. He is the one who killed your son.

And he’s not going to get away with it any longer.

Every cell in your body knows what has to be done, yet you also know the consequences if you do it. Is stopping this lunatic really worth destroying what’s left of your family? Can you really give up everything to ensure no one else ever feels this pain you are feeling?

You think about if your places had been reversed and it had been you who had been killed instead and there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that Jason would have burned the world down if it meant stopping The Joker. And if that’s true, how could you do anything less for your son?

With a newfound purpose driving you and a clear goal in your sights, you flip the calendar to May and pin it in place. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle stares back at you as you press your finger to May 27th; 16 days from now and exactly one month after Jason’s death. That will be the day. The day you do what you should have done long ago. The day you will kill The Joker.

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rhywhitefang · 2 years

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Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! :)

#lindoodle #juniper maddoch #glory barrell #louise tarkenton #mateo valdez #jason bright #jasons mysterious husband #oxyll caveros #fatima bint al rahim #blank rune #inner shadow #last hour

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buyukvalidesultan · 5 months

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What I would do if I was Rhaenyra Targaryen in HotD

I wouldn’t allow a single rumor of my maidenhead being take outside of marriage exist. I was named heir to distance Daemon from the throne that would include distancing myself from him regardless of whatever emotions I feel towards him.

It is an unfair world where the men have the upper hand and when I -a girl- have been named the heir I can’t do anything that would jeopardize that, meaning I would have to abide by the rules that society has put in place for me. If I wanted sexual pleasure I’d find a male servant and kill him afterwards to ensure his silence.

Take a little plan-b tea too.

Criston continues to be a regular loyal Kingsguard.

As soon as Alicent gets pregnant I’m killing her. Any hint of a male heir could put my position as heir in danger. I’d have to make it look like she died in childbirth along with the baby.

I’d marry Vaemond Velaryon instead of Laenor. He’s a gay man and having a husband who prefers men to women would not do my reputation any favors nor give me the heirs I need to secure the succession if he can’t get an erection. Not a risk I’m willing to take.

Vaemond is also an ambitious idiot that I can manipulate.

House Velaryon is really the only option since they’re a house that already have dragons, I can’t risk bringing dragons to any of the other houses, especially a great house.

When Otto is dismissed I’d have a loyal servant stationed in Old Town to keep track of his doings. Since he’d most likely want his position as Hand of the King back, I’d send a message for the servant to wait for a good moment to poison Otto.

Once married to Vaemond I’d stop having relations with servants, I can’t risk my children being born illegitimate becuase Vaemond most likely wouldn’t stand for something like that if he were to ever find out, and to have children I’d have to stop drinking moon tea.

After giving birth to Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffery I’d bring Jacaerys to King’s Landing with me as he is my heir and he needs to gain experience if he is to become king after my reign. Lucerys and Joffery would stay with Vaemond on Driftmark.

Occasional trips would be made to both Dragonstone and Driftmark. Dragonstone is the seat of the heir so I’d spend a moderate amount of time there, then go to Driftmark to spend time with Lucerys and Joffery.

While there I’d plant doubts in Vaemond’s head of Laenor’s sexuality and who would succeed to the seat of Driftmark if his nephew didn’t have any interest interest in women. Which the obvious answer would be Laena and her daughters, something Vaemond clearly wouldn’t like as he always wanted to be lord of Driftmark himself.

Driftmark is a valuable ally to have but I’d need a person easy to manipulate, or at least someone I trusted that was close with the future head of the house. They also had dragons which meant by all means I shouldn’t make them an enemy but I should also monitor their ambitiousness to make sure they do not wish to climb higher and replace House Targaryen.

Unfortunately during my trip there I would also hear of Laena’s death so my stay there would be lengthened.

Viserys eventually arrives with Jace and the funeral is held.

Just a day after the funeral Laenor mysteriously dies.

To let the situation die down, Jace, Viserys, and I would all return to King’s Landing where Viserys’ condition would gradually worsen.

The position of Hand of the King remains vacant after Lyonel’s death. With that I’d betroth Jace to Lord Jason Lannister’s daughter, Lady Cerelle Lannister. Then make a brief suggestion to my sickly father that the brother of Lord Jason, Tywin Lannister, shouldn’t become Hand of the King.

To help my position as heir, I would also need the support of the commonfolk to ensure minimal rebellion. Alms would be given to the common people, and I’d hand out money on my nameday.

Money wouldn’t be an issue but it would hurt to have a little extra to pay for my extravagant tastes in jewelry and silks.

Positions on the small council would be sold to the highest but most loyal bidder.

With ongoing trips to Driftmark, I’d also have marital activities with Vaemond and give birth to Aegon then Viserys, causing me to stay at Driftmark longer than expected. This brings upon the decision of temporarily moving my court to Driftmark for the next four years, until 130 AC.

After a long stay I return to King’s Landing, this time without Jace.

Jacaerys will be sent to Dragonstone with Cerelle where he will be allowed to hold his own court and listen to the grievances of the people there. A loyal servant would be sent with him and send reports to me by raven in order for me to monitor how he rules over the people of Dragonstone. While Cerelle will gain practice on being his consort and hopefully grow closer to him.

I will continue ruling as regent for the next two years with a close eye kept on House Hightower, finally after many years of waiting I receive word of Otto’s demise. But yet another issue arises.

Vaemond’s ambitions once again come to light with Corlys’ recent injury.

Vaemond and Rhaenys both arrive to King’s Landing with Luke, Joffery, Baela, and Rhaena. Jace also arrives from Dragonstone with Cerelle and court is finally held.

Vaemond petitions himself to be Lord of Driftmark which I would swiftly reject, instead I would compromise with Rhaenys as she is still a dragon rider and I’d rather not have her as an enemy, especially while pregnant.

Daemon would not be allowed to be in attendance. Knowing his temperament he’d most likely kill someone and this situation needs to be solved without bloodshed.

This would be taken as the perfect opportunity to have Lucerys betrothed to Baela.

Vaemond would be named as Regent of Driftmark during Lord Corlys’ sickness to appease him for the time being.

After the tense situation is over, to lighten the mood, I’d have Jacaerys and Cerelle’s wedding take place. A large feast and tourney would also be held. Surprisingly, Viserys felt well enough to attend and join in the celebrations.

A few days after the celebrations are over I let Rhaenys return to Driftmark with her grandchildren and my children while I kept Vaemond occupied and stalled him on his return to Driftmark.

After a few days passed I would finally let relent and him return to Driftmark and by the time he got back I received word that Lord Corlys had returned to good health.

Sadly, Viserys passes away. This sends me into a small spiral of panic but I soon recover, realizing I had prepared myself for this day.

The coronation goes by without trouble and my reign finally begins.

A few months go by quickly and Visenya is born, but sickly and frail. Unfortunately, she dies before her first nameday.

About a few months after Vaemond and Joffery move into the Red Keep I’d have Vaemond poisoned, my succession has been secured, I have heirs and he’s no longer needed.

This was NOT spellchecked. I tried making this as unbiased as possible.

The previous post with Alicent was mostly for fun, but I decided to get a lot more serious with this one.

#lucerys velaryon #baby visenya #jacaerys velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #queen rhaenyra #baela targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #joffery velaryon #vaemond velaryon #corlys velaryon #viserys targaryen #king viserys #aegon the younger #house targaryen #house of the dragon #Vaemond’s wife is dead

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