#just no jason this scene

[clockwayswrites]

I didn’t write two parts this week or anything. Nope.

But apparently you all have been very good/bad/tired/enby and deserve to be spoiled. Who am I to deny that?

Master List: Start of ‘Thirst Trap Lessons‘ wc 1220

Danny jolted up, going out of frame on the video call. "I have to seduce Red Hood."

"...dude," Tucker said after a moment. "He already likes you."

"As Jason."

"You just said they're the same person," Sam pointed out.

"That’s not important, not if they're pretending they're not. He's not, I mean. If I want to date Jason I have to convince Red Hood to let me and the easiest way to do that is to get with Red Hood too."

"Just pointing out that, again, he already likes you, my dude."

"As Jason. How is this confusing you?"

Sam sighed in that soul weary way that only someone who had been friends with Danny for years could sigh. "You're the one being weird. They're one person."

"With totally different lives.” How were they not getting this. They had been friends with him during his Phantom era. They had to understand the vigi life a little. Just because Jason and Red Hood were the ‘same person’ it didn’t mean they had the same needs or wants or even personality. “Nope. Need to seduce Red Hood."

"Danny, no." Two voices chimed back at the same time.

"Danny yes," he said, his smirk visible for a moment as he ducked down and ended the call.

He set his laptop aside and dug out his phone from between the couch cushions. It took him a moment to find the right number in his contact list.

"Danny?" The confusion in the voice was warranted. While they had all left Amity Park on surprisingly good terms, it was weird for him to outright call someone who wasn’t Sam or Tucker. Still, she was his best bet.

"Paulina,”Danny said. He knew that his grin was obvious in his voice and didn’t try to hold it back. “I need you to teach me how to be a lowkey thirst trap so I can seduce my accidental sugar daddy's boyfriend and date them both."

Silence hung heavy on the line. And then Paulina answered, "...oh we are so going shopping."

-

After some back and forth, Danny ended up going to Paulina in Metropolis. Paulina did demand to visit Gotham sometime, but pointed out she knew the stores in Metropolis already so shopping there would be way easier. This was especially true since she was in Metropolis to go to school for Fashion Merchandising.

Danny was pretty proud of her for that.

It was the two of them who had scattered to the East coast after graduation. A few had made it to the West coast, one down to somewhere in Texas, and the bulk had stayed in the Midwest. They weren’t all close, not by any means, but they tended to check in with each other in a sporadic group chat. Mostly it was talking about how freakishly normal everywhere else was.

Not that Danny could claim that about Gotham. (He thought the others might be sorta jealous of that.)

Still, even if it wasn’t a busy chat, it was a nice tether to have. It was a reminder that the insanity of their childhood had been real, but that they had made it out (mostly) alive despite it all. It was also a way to check in if they were being a little too weird— if the rest of the world really was that dulled.

“So,” Paulina started, smacking Danny’s hand away from where he was poking at his face mask again.

Apparently Thirst Trap Lessons started with a spa day.

“So?” Danny repeated, just to be an ass.

Paulina didn’t disappoint him and rolled her eyes. “So, now that we’re settled and soaking and alone, tell me about these people you’re trying to seduce.”

“Okay, well. Right. So this is a secret, which I won’t ask if you can keep because we’re Amity Parkers.” Danny said. He gave her the obligatory fist bump at that.

They had really come together as a class once the fact he was Phantom had become an open secret among the other students. None of them ever turned him in to the GIW or his parents. He liked to think it was more care than the fact that he had been revealed saving them all from being pulled into a realm of unending torture along with the school.

Amity Parkers knew how to keep secrets, they had proven that.

“They’re both the same person? Secret identity stuff. Just no one seems to know that.”

Paulina hummed. “Any people think they’re dating?”

“Apparently. One of them is Jason—”

“Sugar Daddy or boyfriend?”

“Sugar Daddy. Jason is… well, I’m pretty sure he’s rich? Even if he lives in Crime Alley.”

“Oh, so really a Sugar Daddy.”

Danny blushed red under his face mask. “I guess? Except I don’t think he knows he’s doing it! I sure didn’t. He just likes to help. He’s involved in a lot of charity stuff. But I’m pretty sure the money is his? Or his family’s? I don’t think it’s Red Hood’s.”

Paulina’s head let her head fall to the side so she could give Danny A Look at that. “Red Hood.”

“His other side. Sorta, um… anti-hero, vigilante, crime lord?” Danny said quickly in a squeak.

“Danny Fenton! What are you doing getting mixed up with vigilantism again!” She shouted, leaning over the edge of her tub to slap at his arm. “You were supposed to be—” Slap. “—done—” Slap. “—with—” Slap. “—that!”

“I am! Stop slapping me! I am done with it. I don’t help out or anything! I didn’t even know about the Red Hood part until Jason insisted I get some self-defense training because he was worried about me. And then I show up and bam— he’s also Red Hood!”

“And no one knows?”

“Not that I’ve met.”

Paulina was glaring at him again. “And just how did you notice?”

“He, um, might sorta be a Revenant?”

Slap. “Danny!”

“Come on Paulina, he’s amazing! He’s kind and confident and you should see his thighs,” Danny defended himself. “And… and since he’s died before maybe if this actually goes somewhere it means that he won’t…”

“Oh Danny,” Paulina said in a much softer tone.

Danny smiled a sad, lopsided little thing. “Don’t say my name like that. It’s something I have to think about. That’s just being realistic.”

Danny squirmed under Paulina’s gaze for a long minute before she finally looked away. “So one persona is a rich do gooder and the other a vigilante and everyone thinks they’re dating.”

“I know, wild how everyone just assumes that. They’re never even in the same room!”

“Not really,” Paulina said with a shrug. “Before we knew you were, you know, you, the whole school totally thought that Danny-you and Phantom-you were dating.”

Danny chocked on air. “What?!?”

“Like, I mean, so, you were always defending his name and Sam and Tucker would ask you if he was alright after ghost attacks and you got, like, all protective whenever the GIW was in town,” Paulina said. “So we thought you were dating you. I was totally jealous too.”

“Oh Ancients. Is that why everyone was asking me things like if Phantom felt cold to the touch?” Danny squeaked.

Paulina just laughed at him as Danny slid further down into his mud bath.

-----

AN: Ailithnight’s reply here was spot on that Danny was treating Jason and Red Hood like they had two separate needs even knowing they were one person, so I felt motivated to go off and finish up this scene that goes into his thought process for it. Please ignore that it really doesn’t have a start. I just really like the idea of Danny getting that it’s different in and out of the suit and while it’s not like it’s actually two personalities, there still are two very different needs and he has to step up and date both. It’s also nice that he can be more Phantom around Red Hood (Danny misses him a little).

I don’t know if I got Paulina’s Voice right, but I tried! I just find this concept hilarious, and I also think she’d understand masking, from a social side, maybe too well. Hope you all enjoyed being spoiled today and say delightful, darlings!

Good Squad, as you’ve named yourselves:

@addie-lover-of-stories​ @bathildaburp​ @d4ydr34min9​ @sometimesthingsfallapart​  @vythika96​ @worthlesswall​ @aroranorth-west​ @chrysanthemum9484​ @ver-444​ @impulsiveasshole​ @meira-3919​ @lazy-bouqet​ @cryinginthevoid​ @thegatorsgoose​ @cutelittlebeanie​ @blankliferain​ @ramblingkat​ @screamingtofillthevoid​ @themirrorghost​ @skulld3mort-1fan​ @may-rbi​ @nixthenerd​ @moonlupine​ @olivethetreebitch​ @overtherose​ @roseinbloom02​ @v-inari​ @nappinginhell​ @imchildish8775​ @leftmiraclechaos​ @mimilikey​ @mygood-bitch99​ @ailithnight​ @busterkeel​ @avelnfear​ @ravenshadow17​ @demigraceling-blog​ @maskygirl55​ @sroomheaddoc​ @undead-essence​ @desertbogwitch​ @addie-lover-of-stories​ @magic-pincushion​ @phantom-dc​ @lazy-bouqet​ @gin2212​ @meira-3919​ @apointlessbox​  @hollowgast1​ @cutelittlebeanie​ @friends-fam-fiends-hellothere​ @serasvictoria02​ @dulceringo​ @moonlupine​ @mushroom-jack​ @icedbluesoul​ @lumosfeather18581​ @impulsiveasshole​ @coruscateselene​ @escelia​ @firegirl108​ @roseinbloom02​ @crystalqueertea​ @booberrylizard​ @phoenixdemonqueen​ @shorterthanadverage​ @pyramaniac​ @seraphinedemort​ @fallenangle67​ @chaoticchange​ @soren1830​ @trippingovermyfeet​ @nutcase8691​ @themirrorghost​ @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff​ @a-salty-sal​ @guardianrex​ @dsabian​ @crystalqueertea​ @v-inari​ @8-29pm​ @consouling​ @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair​​

[ellilyre]

In the same vibe as Percy choking Akhlys, may I suggest :

Nico causing wounds to necrotize. Even from a small scratch on your finger, it spreads so fast your only hope is an amputation asap.

Jason holding the air still in your lungs. You're not dying because you don't have air, but because you can't get it out and are literally choking.

Hazel controlling stones in jewelries. Imagine getting chocked by your necklace, your finger being sectioned by your ring, being handcuffed by your bracelets, your head being crushed between your earrings...

Thalia manipulating the electricity in your body. Causing your nervous system to move in certain ways, or just shutting down your brain activity.

The big 3 are terrifying, and I wish we would've seen them (others than Percy) being more op. Cmon Rick, show us reasons the gods are afraid of them !

[mikakuna]

i see this jason todd who actually looks his very young age (instead of the 30yr old man that comics like to portray)

and feel my heart breaking just imagining bruce beating him up, almost killing him, mind-breaking him, and just overall being a total piece of shit father towards him.

a huge chunk of the reason why people don't view bruce's actions towards jason as abusive or wrong is because jason doesn't look his age. he's drawn to be this 35yr old father of three who looks even older than dick (and way too on par with bruce) that people see their fights as one between batman and any of his regular rogues. when they fight, it just looks like batman is fighting a man his age and not an actual young person. it doesn't look like batman is fighting his son who's barely even drinking age (and who def wasn't drinking age in utrh). their fights are portrayed in a way that eliminates the very real power struggle between them.

this applies to jason's entire character as well. a lot of people don't sympathize with how he died or his actions as robin or his fights with the other bats because he doesn't look his age. he always looks older and scarier than everyone else. tim has many sympathizers from the titans tower incident because jason just looked like a grown man fighting a 12yr old (even tho i disagree, tim was built and like 17 lmfao).

anyways, i just wish comics would actually draw jason to look his age, which literally ranges from 19 to early twenties. he's young- so young, and it's so annoying to see him drawn and written as someone older than even bruce.

[batfamhyperfixation]

Jason: the Batfam member I see most as my brother is Tim

Dick: What!!! That's no fair, I should be your brotherly-ist brother!

Dick: No offense Timmy.

Dick, turning back to Jason: But I am the one who has been your brother longest, I helped you kill that druglord, I even gave you some of my cookie dough last week!

Bruce: uhhh, back to the druglord thing-

Steph: You shared your cookie dough with him!

Jason: Sorry Dick, but there is one thing that makes you brothers more than anything else, not blood, or time, but...

Jason and Tim at the same time: Contempt

Jason: I have contempt for Tim, like all siblings should. Really the only thing I love more than hating Tim is shit talking other people with Tim. That form of contempt is how siblings bond and I will just say, surprisingly I love bonding with Tim even more than I love terrorizing Tim

Tim: aww, I didn't know we were that close

Jason, panicking cause he doesn't wanna ruin their dynamic: *punches Tim in the gut and runs out*

Tim, shouting after him: You can't take it back now, you ass

Jason: *turns around while running to give Tim the middle finger*

[welcometogrouchland]

ANOTHER SKETCH DUMP! Featuring more of me playing with lineless art. Batman reborn era trio (dick, damian and steph) I miss you...when will you return from war. Also featuring Steph designs bc I've seen ppl dissatisfied w/ her current look, some good mom Talia, and Jason Todd poetry club. Duke is confused not that Jason would start a poetry club but that he'd have such mid poetry opinions. (ID in Alt)

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

[catabasis]

“The occasion of the first meeting between playwright and player is now, in our fanciful telling, a matter of theatrical lore and legend.”

Jason Schwartzman and Edward Norton as Jones Hall and Conrad Earp ASTEROID CITY (2023, Wes Anderson)

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights where Phantom saves Duke or the Signal, and a week later (at a Wayne gala or some other place) Duke recognizes the light/aura coming from Danny

Putting off gala prep was perhaps not the best plan. Duke spent the past month insisting that everything is fine and he has it under control. Duke is also a lying liar who lies, and now he’s frantically trying to pick up his suit in time to get it dry cleaned and altered as necessary. 

Alfred would be disappointed in him, but in Duke’s defense, he had to go out of town on a mission to bust a growing drug cartel, and then spent half a week visiting a shelter for metas on the run (unofficial and hidden away) to help everyone find new homes and learn to control their powers. These things take time!

Unfortunately, gala prep also takes time, and since it’s a charity gala for funding the education of every Gothamite student, it’s not one he can slip out of. The entire family is being strong-armed into attending and not making a scene until the donation period in the first half is over. 

Duke knows he’s not the only one who’s scrambling to get ready for a gala that’s taking place in three days, but they’re not helping him, so it feels like he’s the only one messing up. 

“Sorry!” he calls behind him as he sprints through a group of people. 

He could have asked someone to drive him, but he knows they’re all busy and doesn’t want his own poor time management to cause problems for anyone else. Even though he’s sure Bruce is looking for an excuse to get out of a mandatory Wayne Enterprises board meeting that both Lucius and Tim dragged him to.

RIP Bruce. He will be missed.

The Diamond District is full of people walking the streets, sprinting between parked cars and waiting for their rides. They’re all dressed nicely, making him feel out of place. It’s a feeling that’s never left him since he joined the Waynes but it’s particularly bad when he’s left to navigate these spaces alone. Rich people and socialites are a different kind of human, one that Duke doesn’t care to understand; there’s greed in all of them, turning them heartless, and they can give as much as they want to charity but it won’t change the fact that all they do is a performance to make people like them, rather than a desire to do anything good. 

The sooner this is over, the better. He keeps going, hoping that he can still make it to his appointment with the tailor. Alfred recommended the store, then set up the appointment, so all Duke has to do is trust their judgment as they get him fitted. He’s still got twenty minutes until the scheduled time, but some unspoken rule makes it so he has to show up fifteen minutes early for better service or risk being turned away and told to reschedule. 

Duke slows to a walk when he catches sight of the store, the trying to catch his breath and look more composed before he reaches the door. He takes a moment to straighten his clothes a bit, then opens the door and steps in.

The bell jingles pleasantly above his head. The store is empty of any other customers, and the employee at the front counter looks up with a plastered on smile. 

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” she says, then looks down at her phone and types something out before placing it under the counter. A tablet comes out instead and she swipes through a few screens, then sets it down and look at Duke again. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I have an appointment? For a suit fitting. Under the name Thomas.”

She taps on the screen for a minute, then nods and gives him another customer service smile. “Alright, I’ll go ahead and grab the tailor. They’ll be out with your suit soon. Please, feel free to take a seat or browse some of our suits. We just recently got a new collection in from Italy.”

“Sure, thanks. I’ll just… be here, I guess.”

The employee takes her tablet and disappears through a door, leaving him alone in the store. He doesn’t want to sit down, not while his heart is still trying to settle from his sprint through half of Diamond District, so Duke wanders around the neat stacks of dress shirts and vests, pants and belts and shoes lined up neatly against the walls. 

He takes a moment to shoot Alfred a text that he’s at the tailor for his fitting appointment. Steph’s sent him a long string of videos online, and he’s just about to go through them when the bell rings again. 

Duke glances up and watches a guy walk into the store. He looks around, makes eye contact with Duke, then quickly looks down, taking a seat by the door.

Probably another upper class citizen uncomfortable with the fact that someone in jeans and a hoodie is shopping for suits. Shaking his head lightly, Duke wanders deeper into the store to get some distance between them so they could ignore each other more easily. It’s only until the tailor comes out, and then he can go to a fitting room and be done with this whole thing, so Duke resigns himself to suffering through the tense silence. 

How long is he even supposed to wait? He can only look at clothes in one of three colors before he gets bored. 

He goes to another rack, trying to see if he can notice anything different about these shirts. 

And then he hears a shoe scuff against the floor behind him. He tenses up, but before he can turn around, a belt is wound around his throat, pulling him back and choking him. 

Duke drops his weight, tucking his chin and gets a hand against the inside of the belt to try to push it away. His back hits someone’s chest and he’s trapped, focused on trying not to be choked to death while also keeping his vigilante abilities and meta powers secret. 

More footsteps come from behind, and a soaked cloth is pressed against his nose and mouth.

Chloroform, he realizes, familiar with the smell from Bruce’s training. But training isn’t enough to keep him from being knocked out, and he quickly slips away from the waking world, falling to the ground. 

Just before he passes out completely, he hears the employee who greeted him say, “I’m not sure how much Wayne would be willing to pay for him, but let’s start high and negotiate lower. New kid can’t possibly be worth that much…”

Duke wakes up groggily, memories of what happened quickly snapping into place. He’s too out of it still to get up, but he’s awake enough to be offended. Sure he’s the new kid, and barely even a Wayne, but he’s still worth a lot!

Kidnappers these days. So rude.

He doesn’t hear anyone around him, and it feels like he’s lying on a cold concrete floor. Basement, maybe? Warehouse? Storage unit tucked away somewhere? There’s nothing much to see when Duke is able to open his eyes, squinting bareilly at his surroundings. His arms are tied behind him, wrists bound, but they left his legs alone. 

If he could just hit the panic button on his bracelet…

Duke wiggles around, fighting through the lingering effects of Chloroform, and manages to sit up. If he strains his hearing, he thinks he can hear voices outside of the empty room he’s been left in. There’s a window high up, too high for a normal person to reach without help, but if he can use the shadows to travel through it, then he may be able to escape on his own. 

First things first: he needs to free his hands before anyone comes in to check on him.

They used zip ties on him, which is inconvenient. He’s learned how to get out of them, but it’s difficult enough without being drugged and having to do it behind his back. 

He’s feeling the zip ties bite into his wrists just as there’s a crash from outside the room. His kidnappers yell, alarmed, and are quickly silenced. That’s rarely ever a good sign. Duke renews his efforts to escape, ignore the pain in pushing against his binds like this. 

The door opens. Duke hears the small click of a lock disengaging and freezes. Then he gets to his feet, still unsteady, and prepares to ram his head into anyone who comes near him like some sort of deranged battering ram, or a drunk raging bull. 

Duke is ready for the worst: a gang hoping to steal away a Wayne hostage, a Rogue, Gnomon popping in to cause trouble for the sole purpose of getting on Duke’s nerve. 

He’s not expecting another teenage boy, who is literally glowing, to poke his head in and zero in on Duke. He blinks, then smiles; it’s friendly and sincere, nothing like the employee who helped kidnap him. 

“Hey!” he says, coming into the room properly. He’s floating a good foot off the ground, eyes a bright neon green, with white hair that sways as if he’s underwater. “Are you okay? I saw them drag you out of the back of the store and followed them, but I got a bit lost. Sorry for taking so long to get here.”

“...It’s fine?” Duke offers, trying to wrap his head around what’s happening. “I wasn’t expecting a rescue so soon, anyways. Think you can help me out here?”

“Yeah, of course!” he flies closer, then drops down to the ground behind Duke. He hums lightly under his breath, and then Duke feels a cold touch on his wrist and the zip ties are suddenly gone. 

Duke blinks, then brings his arms in front of him. He moves around a bit to make sure he’s not hallucination, and sure enough, he’s free and unbound because a random meta teenager vanished the zip ties into the ether, or something. 

“Thanks, man. Any idea where we are?”

“Not a clue. I got lost coming here, and I was following them. I don’t think you should trust any directions I give.”

“Fair enough,” Duke laughs. “I’m Duke, by the way.”

“Phantom.”

“Well, thanks for the save, Phantom. Can I treat you to something?”

“Like, coffee?”

“Sure. Or brunch, or ice cream. Whatever you want, really.”

Phantom considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “Sorry, I would love to but going out in public looking like this,” he gestures to himself, “Is not a great idea. Thanks for the offer though. You got a ride?”

Duke pats his pockets, then sighs. “My phone’s gone. I still have my wallet, though.”

“I fly you to someplace you can call someone, if you’d like.”

“You sure? I could probably just walk out of here and call a taxi.”

“I don’t think walking around by yourself after being kidnapped is a great idea,” Phantom says, doubtfully. “Seriously, let me fly you.”

He should just hit the panic button and wait for someone to show up to get him. He shouldn’t go to some unknown location with a meta he literally just met. 

But, you know what? No one else can say they got kidnapped twice in one day, so Duke nods and says, “Sure, sweep me off my feet, Phantom. You gotta commit to this rescue.”

Phantom laughs. And then he does sweep Duke off his feet into a princess carry with a cheeky grin and flies them out the building, which turns out to be an abandoned apartment building slated for demolition. 

“Keep this up and you’ll be replacing Superman in no time,” Duke jokes.

“I think I could manage it,” Phantom replies thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m already prettier than him, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely. The glow really brings out your eyes.”

Phantom gets him a few blocks away when Duke recognizes where they are, and quickly directs him into Crime Alley. They land on top of one of Jason’s safe houses, and while he’s sure there’s enough security to take out a SWAT Team, that’s absolutely not going to stop him from breaking in to use one of Jason’s burner phones and eat his leftovers. 

He’s set down on his feet gently, and as soon as Phantom sees that he’s fine, able to walk and everything, he floats back up, just out of reach.

“Be careful, okay?” he says, getting ready to leave.

“I’ll do my best. Hey, are you gonna be in Gotham for a while, or…?”

Phantom gives him a tired smile. “Nah. I’m just passing through. As long as my luck doesn’t get even worse, then I should be out of here in a few days.”

“Shame,” Duke says, giving Phantom a very visible once over. He’s pretty tall, and Duke can see some muscle on him, and the tight black outfit really adds to his look. The glow that comes out of his chest makes him look ethereal and Duke is beyond glad that he got such a charming rescuer.

Phantom doesn’t blush like a normal person. He glows brighter instead, curling into himself a bit as he looks away, unable to stop the smile from growing on his face. 

“I guess,” he shrugs. “Are you really going to be alright from here?”

“Yeah, man, I have a friend who lives here. I’ll just bother him until he agrees to give me a ride.”

“Alright.” Phantom drifts away, glancing behind him before turning back to Duke. “I’ll get going then. Take care, Duke!”

Duke waves and watches as Phantom begins to fly away. Then Phantom… disappears? Or rather, his body does but Duke can see an orb of light making its way across Gotham, almost like a star fallen from the sky.

He stays on the roof until the light is long gone. When he’s finally ready to go in and steal from Jason, the sun has completely set. 

And he still doesn’t have his suit.

Duke sighs, and mentally prepares himself to other day of stressing out about the gala.

Three days of stress and last minute scrambling leave Duke in the Gotham Museum of Modern Art with Steph, Tim, Cass, and Damian. They’re hiding in the photography gallery to avoid other guests, taking a break from being polite and letting thinly veiled, passive aggressive insults slide over them.

.

.

.

“How much longer must we suffer this before we can go?” Damian grumbles, looking like he’s do anything to get his hands on a blade. Which, considering how many people tried to either pinch his cheeks are say some racist remark about him and his mother, is totally fair. Duke would just punch them, but sometimes a little drama helped get the message across. 

“At least two more hours,” Tim says, not bothering to look up from his phone. From what few glimpses of the screen Duke caught, he’s leading a Titans missions through text and clever hacking. Though it may be more accurate to call is a Young Justice mission since there’s no way any of this was authorized by a Justice League member. 

Also Anita, suited up as Empress, is there. If they aren’t on the news for property destruction and absolutely batshit wild shenanigans, Duke will have to check on Tim to make sure he’s not a pod person sent to infiltrate the family. 

“Think we can sneak out without anyone noticing?” Steph asks, looking at the emergency exit longingly.

Cass shakes her head and points to the door leading to the ballroom. When they look over, Dick makes very deliberate eye contact with them and give them a smile that looks stretched across his face.

Tim winces and pushes Duke. “Oh, something went down. Go take over for him and let Dick rest in here for a bit.”

“Man, why does it have to be me?” he grumbles even as he stands. Dick lets out a heavy breath and gives Duke a grateful smile, patting on the shoulder before shoving him out the door. 

As soon as he’s back into the main hallway, the music and chatter swell, no longer muffled by the thick walls of the photography wing. A few people come and go from the ballroom, no doubt looking for the restroom. 

Or more private places for… other things. Things they definitely shouldn’t be doing in an art museum.

He really can’t wait for this night to be over.

Duke joins the rest of the guests, fake smile on his face, and quickly makes his way to the snack table. He might as well make the most of his time stuck out here. Maybe he could even cause another relationship scandal by implying that Bruce is sleeping with one of partners when in hearing distance of a couple. Maybe even both of them. 

Bruce would go with it. It’s hilarious and he also needs something to make these events bearable.

Sadly, he doesn’t see any good targets as he scans the ballroom. A few people are dancing, while others are talking in small circles, closed off from outsiders. There’s an entire table of old ladies with glasses of wine in front of them; Duke considers hanging around them, since they confess to a lot of crimes after a few glasses. It’s fascinating. 

Also, he does kind of miss hanging out with the one old lady who’s declared herself his high society grandmother and told him stories of how she used to go to bars to find racist people or Klan members during the Jim Crow era, seduce them, then poison them and get their addresses so a few gangs she was friends with would fuck them up.

Granny Kaliasto is the coolest person ever. 

Just as he’s about to finish his last mini rolled crepe, Duke catches sight of one of the few teenagers still in the ballroom. The others, mostly stuck up rich kids no one actually likes, have already left to take over some other part of the museum to gossip until their parents decide it’s time to go home. These two are clearly not part of that crew, what with the girl being very goth and in a poofy, ripped dress, and the boy having already taken his jacket off to keep over his forearm, the top button of his shirt popped open.

They might be cool. He’s hoping they’re cool because he desperately needs some company to keep from dying of boredom while the gala continues on.

Duke walks over to them, going around the side of the ballroom, until he’s close enough to hear them talking.

The boy has his back to Duke, but the girl sees him. She immediately scowls and slaps the boys shoulder, eyes locked on Duke.

“Got another comment about my dress?” she says, voice sharp and acidic.

“Another?” Duke repeats. “I was just bored and wanted to talk to people who were my age. Sorry?”

The boy smacks the girl’s arm, then turns to face Duke. “Sorry about her! Sam is just naturally rude and aggressive. Tonight’s been a bit rough, with this crowd.”

Duke goes to say something, but the words stick in his throat when he sees the boy’s eyes shift from deep blue to an electric green. When he focuses, he can see a faint glow in his chest, the same glow he saw in Phantom.

“Dude? You alright?”

Sam looks him over judgmentally. “I guess it’s nice that I’m not being ogled for once, but don’t do that shit to Danny either.”

“Wait, that’s not what I was doing!” Duke hurries to say, snapped out of his shock. “I just… you look a lot like someone I met recently.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. What was your name? I’m Duke, by the way.”

He holds out a hand, and the boy shakes it with a small smile. “Danny. I don’t think we’ve met. I mean, I’m only here because Sam wouldn’t come to this gala without me, so her parents flew me in.”

“You from out of town?”

“Sam and I are from Illinois. Her parents are traveling around the east coast right now, and they decided to spend a week in Gotham to talk business.”

“I’d ask how it is, but outsiders tend to really hate Gotham, so…”

Sam barks out a sharp laugh. “Oh please, we can handle Gotham. Our town might not be as big and well known as Gotham, but we got our own shit to deal with there.”

“I do get shot at a lot back home,” Danny adds thoughtfully. “And that’s without the ghosts.”

“Woah, what?”

“Up for a bit of a story?” Danny asks, impish grin on his face. By his side, Sam brings a hand up to cover a manic smile, shoulders already shaking with laughter. 

This is already better than the grandma gang. Duke leans against the wall, getting settled in, and says, “Always, man. Hit me with it.”

The next hour an a half passes quickly with Sam and Danny dramatically narrating some of the things that have happened in their town. Duke listens, absolutely enraptured, and doesn’t even notice the Waynes file into the ballroom again. 

Unfortunately, they bring with them the attention of most of the ballroom, including Bruce and Sam’s parents. 

She cuts the current story about Box Ghost short with a heavy sigh. “Hold up, I need to greet the Waynes properly while my parents are watching.” She steps in front of Duke and Danny, holding out a hand with a pained smile.

Tim takes it first, giving a solid shake, and introductions start. 

Free from the rules of high society, if only for the moment, Duke leans closer to Danny and whispers to him, “Phantom. Wanna get out of here?”

Danny flinches and turns to him looking panicked. “How did you know?”

“I kinda got magic eyes. I see a lot of things normal humans can’t. Don’t worry about it. I still owe you, so you wanna get out of here?”

He watches as Danny glances around the ballroom, then back to him, clearly weighing out his options. Then he nods and says, “Know where to get a good milkshake around here?”

“Sure do.”

“I guess you’re the one rescuing me this time.”

“Not a rescue,” Duke corrects, and casually picks Danny up over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry, “A kidnapping.”

Danny laughs and waves Sam and all the others goodbye as Duke marches out of the ballroom.

“Don’t bother me for the next two hours!” he calls to the Waynes, “I’m going on a date!”

There are shocked gasps and murmurs all through the crowd. But as he spins around to wave at his shocked and easily amused family, he also catches sight of Granny Kaliasto raising her half full wine glass towards him.

She really is the coolest.

He’s definitely telling her all about this at the next event they attend together. It’ll be nice to have a few stories of his own to share.

[somewhereincairparavel]

i badly wanted dark!Jason tbh. I mean, we got a dark Percy choking a goddess, and a dark Nico ghostifying a roman legionnaire, but the closest thing we got to a dark!Jason was when he was possessed by eidolon and electrocuted Percy, or his anger when Thalia was turned into an ice statue which isnt dark enough imo. I just wanted pure RAGE from him, till the point he ends up doing something completely out of character and stuns everyone.

I mean, Jason is the son of the king of all gods, his rage would be absolute terror no doubt. His dad is an angry man, so I hc him to have his dad's unhinged anger if he gets out of control (I honestly feel like this is a necessity for all Zeus kids lol). Also, Jupiter is A LOT more unhinged than Zeus considering he's roman so jason should arguably have more craziness in him . Maybe something like sucking the air out of someone's lungs to make them stop breathing for a few secs. And Leo going "man, you gotta stop shocking us like this. Pun intended"

imagine the potential of that scene. Wasted potential yet again. smh.

[betterthanbatman1]

What if I’m crying in the club what then?

[pineappical]

THE DUET IVE ALWAYS WANTED

[oifaaa]

People bring up the fact that Jason (might have) beaten up Tim that one time like it's the worst thing Jason did ignoring that he literally shoots Damian point blank in the chest all the offence in the world to tim but imo boy got off pretty easy

[lygma-nygma]

Honest to god Titans Tower is probably the funniest thing that's ever happened in comics to me? Like, there's so much to unpack here it's insane?? The tear-away stripper Red Hood costume? The knock-off Robin costume with the stupid ass yellow tights that somehow looks worse than if Jason just rocked the bare thighs? The way Jason is drawn like he is fully 35 with two stepkids and a mortgage? Jason inventing fanfiction about Tim and Bruce's relationship in his head because he refuses to believe Tim actually stalked his way into being Robin?? Trying to mimic his crowbar death by beating Tim with his own staff but I as a reader am entirely unable to take it seriously because of those stupid fucking tights-

And then you get to Tim's side of things and he says like, all of 5 things the entire time and three of them are a coded 'fuck you'. He has absolutely no time or respect for Jason's pity party and it's actually hysterical because Jason cannot stop yapping. Meanwhile, Tim is like, definitely losing the fight which makes it funnier?? Then the ending?? Jason scrawling "Jason Todd was here" on the wall in blood (or red paint meant to look like blood, up in the air) and signing it with a handprint like he's a middle schooler who just discovered Creepypasta???? Ripping the 'R' off Tim's costume when he's literally already unconscious?? Zipping away from the scene thinking "damn I actually like that kid, wish I had friends tbh"??

And then it's literally never brought up again.

[lasshoe]

I respect that you need to go home to your son, Ted. But I just want you to consider the possibility that this is your home.

[coachbeards]

I don't think we change per se, as much as we just...learn to accept who we've always been, you know?

TED LASSO - 3.12, "so long, farewell."

[roseworth]

i love this one. btw. if you even care.