The Smoke in my Lungs
Jason breathes in deeply as he leans against the railing of the fire escape, cigarette between his fingers. Thick Gotham air curls down his throat. He’s probably on one of the few fire escapes in Gotham that would hold his weight with risk or rust.
A necessity when you know vigilantes (and annoying acrobat almost brothers) who’d rather climb through a window than a flight of stairs.
He looks down at the cigarette in his hands, the tip dull in the darkness without a slow burning ember.
Of course it is. He didn’t light it. He never does.
Jason has smoked exactly one cigarette since his miraculous return. Some shitty hotel room in Turkey. Barely a month after the pit, and it had thrown him right back.
One inhale had left him shaking and sobbing in his closet for half a day, the taste of ash and smoke thick on his tongue.
The first thing he’d tasted when he’d woken. Ash, then darkness, then the pit, then… ash again.
Fire licked at his skin, wreckage a crushing weight on his chest, he couldn’t breathe, Bruce! Please! He can’t breathe, oh god he’s gonna-!
“Those’ll kill you y’know?”
Jason’s eyes snap up, spotting dark hair falling around the face dangling upside down in front of him.
“Dick.”
Nightwing smiles and flips down from fire escape above him to landing gently next to him, “No names in the masks,”
Jason smirks at him, “Who said I was using your name?”
Nightwing rolls his eyes, “Sure.”
“Whatdya want, dick?” Jason says, turning back out to the city, he doesn’t let his shoulders drop though, unwilling to hear it from Wing.
“Oh just stopping by, Red Robin’s gonna be rolling through soon, we’re working together tonight, figured he could just do a swing by. Thought I’d stop in while I waited.”
“Well, Nightwing,” Jason glared at him, “as a completely regular, normal, civilian, I appreciate the concern, but you can leave now.”
Nightwing opens his mouth to snark back, only to be cut off by a piercing siren going off a few blocks away. Both their heads snap to it.
“You better get that, Nightwing, civilian safety and all that,” Jason says with a small smirk.
Nightwing scowls at him, already backing up towards the railing, “I better see you at Sunday dinner,” he jumps to the railing, balancing for a second before tipping backwards.
“Farewell good citizen!” Nightwing shouts back as he swings across the next roof. Jason spots a second caped shadow join him in the distance. Tim finally caught up then. Good for him.
Jason crushed the tip of the unlit cigarette into his ashtray, turning to go inside.
He closed the window behind him, sighing into his empty apartment.
And smoke still filled his lungs.
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OK yes I just posted but I have to put this here because when I saw these scenes I went fucking batshit crazy
HELLO. NOT ONLY HAVE I BEEN THINKING ABOUT DRAWING DAMIAN DRESSED UP AS JOKER BUT THERES A WHOLE ASS UNIVERSE WERE JOKER AND LEX ARE SUPERSONS. JOKER AND LEX.
Also the GENDERBENDS???!?!? OHHH MY GODDD. THEY LOOK SO CUTE. JONS LITTLE SKIRT IS ... YRGHEBU8W8UBB8A8B.
Edit: also this isn't JUST Joker. This is 2019 Joker. SPECIFICALLY 2019 JOKER.
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Maybe it’s just me, but as a beginner sewist my stitch lines are AWFUL at best, and I love to think that most of the Gotham villains are tailoring/making their own suits (because it’s not like they can just walk into a store with crime scene evidence). So they’re just going around with squiggly hems and loose threads— like they find a little green strand on the crime scene and play is it Riddler’s loose thread or Joker’s hair.
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