#worded it this way bc jason could maybe give up killing maybe. but not for the bats. it doesn’t work bc he made the choice to

[aalghul]

when it comes to being willing to make concessions on methods & morality specifically in exchange for gaining batman’s trust & access to the inner bat circle vs rejecting an existing trust & access (because it did exist prior to jason’s death & would have existed had he chosen to walk back in with no radically opposing beliefs after lost days #1)….jason should never choose the first

[feefivefoe]

need to see Jason showing up at reader’s door. Or Damian’s attempts at befriending reader.

I legit think Damian shows up at their front door first. Jason acts a little like a creep at first, only sneaking through their window at night bc he's scared of their reaction.

I mean. He's supposed to be dead. And he had forgotten about you for like, 2 years! Will you be mad at him like you are at Bruce? Because he did do the same thing that he did...

There's also how he's changed, too. Sure he wasn't the easiest kid to deal with, ever, but now he's...he's kinda fucked up. Night terrors, reactions to sudden movements, more violent in general...of course he'd never hurt you, and he's better than he was at first, but you aren't dirtied like the rest of the family is.

You've never raised a genuine weapon. Your child self was fine being pushed around. Preferred it, even. Instead of blowing up at your brothers and father, you'd chosen to take the quiet way out. Hell, you don't even hate them! You're softer and sweeter than the rest of them, especially him, could ever be.

Maybe he gets too complacent, letting himself in night after night. Feeling overconfident in his ability to not wake you up. Forgetting that you also have trauma that gives you night terrors, causing you to wake up in a fit only to see Red Hood standing in your room.

It isn't pretty. You're convinced he's there to kill you, at first. As some sort of vengeance for the actions of your mother, given she wasn't here to take the divine punishment.

It's a bad move. He knows it is. He knows from experience that it isn't going to help, and will just make your panic attack worse.

But...damn it, that's his favorite sibling! It's ripping his heart in two to watch them crying.

So, without thinking twice, he ends up technically restraining you in his arms for the time it takes for you to stop struggling. It's less that you eventually gather your bearings, and more that you run out of energy to keep struggling.

Of course you don't recognize his form, or his voice. He had died while you were in high school, and now you were in your early twenties. Puberty had hit him like a truck. Or a crowbar, either or-

"Pleasepleaseplease- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry- I didn't- I didn't know, I'm sorry-"

His grip tightens, pulling a whimper of pain from you. His face cracks beneath the cowl.

"Nonononono- you don't need to be sorry. I fucked up, you're okay. You didn't do anything wrong." He tries, but you're still too far gone.

He doesn't even mean to reveal himself, but slips up when he calls you by a childhood nickname. Maybe your friends also use it, maybe it was exclusive to him. But even in your haze, you start piecing things together.

Known vigilante aligned with Batman...who knows Nightwing, Red Robin, and the new baby Robin that recently has become attached to you. Sure, maybe Bruce had picked up an older orphan you missed, but they wouldn't know to call you that unless...

"...Jay?"

He BREAKS at that. Losing grasp of his strength, keeping you so trapped against him you're half convinced you'll meld together.

There will be words exchanged later. Explanations, regrets, and even more anger directed at the rest of the family. But it takes a few...hours to get through all the conflicting emotions.

[elizzsush]

The Mask | Jason Todd X Reader

Red Hood X Villain Reader

— in which you, a shy nerdy vigilante/Wayne family obsessed barista- is actually a villain that torments the Red Hood at night.

AU: Soulmate (bc I can)

Rating: Sfw

Note: Y/N is based off of Furina from Genshin bc I thought this would be fun and I saw a prompt somewhere, I think? It’s just my interpretation of it as to not step on anyone's toes!

Also, this isn't really a imagine. It's more of an Idea I was thinking of and needed to get out of my head! So that's why it's kind of not finished? Most of my stuff is WIPs anyway so this isn't really new.

_________________________________

You were a popular villain.

People loved you. Maybe not the theft and distraction you caused but hey- we all have flaws? “I will teach this city the true meaning of Justice!” You’d boldly claim standing on the stage that was Gotham city’s tallest building- scarily close to the edge. “Join me- and together we’ll cleanse this city of its evil and corrupt ways!” You’d state so boldly.

You loved for the attention, the lights- cameras and reporters. That’s why the red hood could only shake his head. Another psychopath spewing their ideology like it should be praised- like it was the absolute truth.

Spoiler alert, it wasn’t.

The world wasn’t black and white enough for an ideology to trump all the others and ‘cleanse this city’. Fuck, not this city- not even close. Gotham was just in too deep. Too much crime, too much of a drug problem or a poverty problem- too much of everything. The joker was a prime example of that. The evil of this city boiled up into one twisted person… Anyway, you were an attention seeker, classic villain profile. Does it for attention- maybe mommy or daddy didn’t give you enough love? It didn’t matter. What happened was you were breaking the law and Jason was still on Bruce’s keep an eye on list. So, he’d keep his hands off the bigger more horrible criminals.

Still sometimes, only sometimes, he'd find himself listening a little too closely to your ideals- Like you believed in the death penalty for Gotham hardest to kill roach: The joker.

So, while Red Hood was chasing you... Well, it'd started off small, you’d steal from the rich of Gotham- sometimes even Bruce Wayne himself. -Those days Jason found himself chasing after you slower, not that he’d admit that. It was a classic Robin Hood situation and Jason… didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand you were breaking the law, in the other, power to the people. Eat the rich.

Jason knew how it felt to grow up struggling so too see you helping people? It was almost nice.

What annoyed him though was your loud, for the people persona. “I will judge all of Gotham! Batman himself can’t escape my judgment!” Okay, slow down… you were fast and agile, but Batman would be able to catch you. And if Jason really put his back into it, he could too. Still, that never stopped you from making bold claims. It garnered attention, it was bold and daring and just what the people wanted. Your ideal matched up with what so many people were fed up with the batman for.

Eventually your behavior began to escalate. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the Bats eyes from you. “This is a cult...” He muttered while he hides away on the roof of an abandoned building you holed your followers up in for a speech.

“My loyal follower!” You’d greet them with a smile and a bow. You’d put in stage performances. Sometimes with Jason, except he never knew, and the performance was just you and him fighting on the stage. Most days, some days it seemed it was just you acting and being alive on that large stage. Others you were preaching your words to the cult your loyal followers. You were building an empire and catching the attention of other criminals.

An empire that while he agreed with, went against the bats no kill rule. The longer you stood on that stage the less safe from the bat you were.

And no matter how much he wanted to agree with you, a small part of him still wanted... something from batman. You would be an issue.

“How much longer do I have to do this…?”

Red hood was no detective, but he was raised by the greatest one. So, while he was lacking in that department compared to the rest of his family (Even if it was just by a smidge.) He still noticed how after a speech or a fight- your smile, no, your persona dropped.

It was a persona you probably garnered for attention.

but still...

So how…

…That just didn’t make sense.

“Can I have your autograph…? Please?” A civilian would ask shyly, hiding behind a Batman themed phone case with a Robin themed charm hanging from that same phone.

The worst part of it all? You didn’t ask for the Red Hoods autograph. You asked for Jason Todd’s autograph, you were a fan of the Wayne’s. Gotham's golden family. No actually, it was the way you jumped up and down eagerly when you thought he was far enough way and did a dumb victory dance.

He sighed and leaned against the alleys stone wall as he watched you leave. A sense of worry invaded his mind as he watched you in your nerdy and totally lame Superman shirt walking away. All while staring at your phone.

He was surprised you recognized him. He was never in the public spotlight- maybe here and there when he was younger. Not now, not anymore. His death and how vague it was left question. Ones people didn’t ask when he wasn’t there, dangling in front of them like bait to a fish, they’d ask why and how and while they had a cover up: One the bat, the world's greatest detective made up. It still was messy. You must be a real fan.

He wasn’t even sure if that was really you…

It had to be though, there was no mistaking it. So, with your civilian name in his head, he walked back home.

“…so… lonely…” `

[manygeese]

the fifth and final part of my valgrace sleeping beauty au. this is just them getting married bc they deserve it

Epilogue

Five years later, Jason was this close to punching his sister in the face. Thalia had abdicated her role as heir to the throne almost as soon as she had turned eighteen, and had since spent her time being a pain in the ass.

“Are you going to ask me if your dress makes you look bad? Because it does,” she commented with a sneer.

“I’m not wearing a dress,” Jason stated, turning away from the mirror to give her an annoyed stare.

“That’s because you’re a coward.”

Jason sighed, poking his head out of the door to find a messenger. Finding only Piper, he settled for her. “Can you ask Leo when he’ll be ready? Thanks, Pipes.” He ducked back into the room.

“Clingy much? Jason, man, you gotta work on this. Your precious fiancé’s gonna get sick of you if you keep it up.” She cackled, finding herself endlessly funny.

“I’m going to hit you.”

~*~

Leo was studying himself in the mirror, trying to decide if he looked good in white or not. He jumped when he heard the knock at the door, seeing as Beckendorf had promised not to let anyone in. “Come in,” he called anyways.

Piper barged in and flopped onto his bed. “You need to hurry up,” she said.

Leo sighed. “I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one today.” He sat on the bed next to her. “Two questions: why do I need to hurry and do I look good in white?”

Piper sat up urgently. “Of course you look good in white. White is your color.”

“You say that about every color.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Be stubborn. But Thalia’s being annoying and I think your fiancé is gonna go into cardiac arrest if he has to deal with her any longer. And if he dares to have a heart attack today of all days, you know Hera is going to kill him even if he survives.”

“True. But consider the following-“

“If you say you’re not going through with this, Hera’s gonna kill you.”

“Of course I’m going through with it!” He held a hand to his chest dramatically. “I was going to say that I think my hair could use some work.”

Piper scoffed and motioned for him to turn around so she could do his hair. “Is that it? We’ll have you ready in no time.”

~*~

Jason was impossibly closer to punching his sister and father in the face. Maybe his mother too, if he was feeling ambitious.

Thalia was, in her words, “hyping him up” as his best man. By that, she meant she was making fun of him in front of both their kingdom and Leo’s. He was fairly certain no one could hear her, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Meanwhile, his father was asleep in his chair, no doubt because of his hangover from the rehearsal dinner.

His mother was fussing in her caring, if chaotic, way. She had tightened his tie more times than he could count, and wiped imaginary dirt off his face even more. Currently, she was prepping the altar where she would officiate for the wedding and discussing the number of chairs with King Hephaestus. Jason was impatiently waiting for the moment his “bride,” as Thalia affectionately called him, would walk down the aisle.

As if on cue, which it most definitely was, organ music started and the audience quieted. “Aren’t you supposed to be with them?” Jason whispered to Thalia as the people of honor walked towards them.

“That’s for losers,” she said like it was obvious.

Piper and Hazel walked arm in arm to the altar, splitting off once they got there. Hazel elbowed Thalia when she got into her place. Thalia didn’t straighten up, only leaning on the flower arch more heavily.

Next was Annabeth. She gave Thalia a serious glare as she passed, which was quickly transformed into a hesitant smile when Thalia replied with a silly face.

A couple more of Jason’s cousins and Leo’s friends walked down after, rounding out the lines on both sides. He tapped his foot as he waited for the last, most eagerly awaited person to arrive.

Finally, Leo proceeded down the walkway, arm in arm with his mother. The other prince was positively beaming, like he almost always was, but there was something special about it today. It was contagious- by the time he made it to the altar, Jason was smiling ear to ear like an idiot. Thalia was gonna make so much fun of him for this.

Sure enough, he heard an annoying giggle from behind him. Deciding to be the bigger person, Jason took a deep breath and tried to keep the frustration off his face. He was barely aware of his mother talking beside him.

“I do,” Leo chirped, probably in response to whatever Queen Hera said. Jason was too busy admiring at his soon-to-be-husband’s smile.

“And do you, Jason Grace, take Leo Valdez to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” Jason sighed happily, without a doubt in his mind.

~*~

The three good fairies watched as the happy couple finished their first dance and disappeared into the crowd.

“All thanks to me,” Piper said as she sipped her champagne.

“Thanks to you?” Annabeth asked incredulously. “How is it thanks to you?”

“I put the spell on him that allowed him to find his true love.”

“By that logic, this is all thanks to Gaea,” Hazel piped up.

“Gaea?” Annabeth was getting surprisingly frustrated for a day as happy as that one.

“She put the first curse on the baby, and that was the only reason Piper had to put a spell on Leo, so he never would’ve found his true love if not for Gaea.” Hazel flagged the waiter down for more champagne. She had a feeling Annabeth might need it.

“How do you know that I wasn’t going to give him the true love spell as my original gift, Hazel?” Piper retorted.

Hazel scoffed. “Because no one in their right mind would tell a literal newborn who they’re gonna grow up to marry. Especially with no good reason. That’s creepy, Piper.”

Piper made to grab the new bottle of champagne to refill her glass. “Well, I think it’s sweet-“ Annabeth snatched the bottle away to use for her own nefarious purposes.

~*~

“Do you think they’re arguing?” Leo looked over his husband’s- he couldn’t get over the fact he could call Jason his husband now- shoulder to the three good fairies in the balcony. His eyes widened when he saw Annabeth drink her alcohol straight from the bottle.

“Can’t see ‘em. I only have eyes for you,” Jason whispered into his ear. Leo could hear the smile in his husband’s- there it was again- voice. He couldn’t help but match it.

Leo giggled giddily. “Well, Annabeth just chugged a whole pitcher of champagne, and Piper is at Hazel’s neck for some reason.” Jason snorted.

Out of the blue, Piper appeared in a cloud of glitter next to them. Leo looked at her exasperatedly as he wiped the sparkles off of his suit. “Don’t look at me like that, this is important!” She cried.

He swished his champagne around in his glass. “Well, go ahead and enlighten us, Pipes.”

“Who do you think is responsible for all this?” She wagged her finger between the two of them.

They stood in a baffled silence for a moment before Jason spoke. “By ‘all this’, do you mean our marriage?” He asked. He sighed when she nodded.

Leo barked out a laugh. He shook his head disbelievingly as he considered the answer to Piper’s question. “Um, besides us, probably Hera.”

His husband hummed as he nodded. “She is something of a matchmaker,” Jason agreed.

Piper groaned. “Goddamnit. Annabeth is going to laugh so hard at me.”

~*~

Author’s Note

We OFFICIALLY did it! Yayyyyy. Not going to lie I hate this with a burning passion 🤗 I think I could’ve done better ❤️❤️❤️ especially the last segment 😃 but Thalia is surprisingly fun to write and I love her. Thank you @scentednightdonut for helping me edit :)) and thank all of y’all for reading!!! Now my purpose is completed and I can finally find peace

The people who wanted tags from my original post (let me know if you want to be untagged):

@queenjunothegreat

@acetheta

[ghost-bxrd]

Hey! I was the anon asking about your thoughts on Bruce being a bad dad (or really just closer to who he is in recent times) and honestly I just wanted your thoughts on it, so thank you!

I also love reading batfam fics where Bruce is a father that loves his kids and believes everyone can be redeemed regardless of whatever crime they may have committed: that’s honestly the Batman I like reading about bc thats what got me into his comics. But it gets complicated when I read fanfiction that uses stuff like UTRH as part of the fic’s lore and then just glosses over Bruce nearly killing his kid to save the Joker, bc that’s very uncomfortable to think about. It’s hard for me to believe that Bruce and Jason are cool when Jason now has the experience of his throat being torn open by his ‘father’ (bc I wouldn’t call someone like that my parent), and our last glimpse of him being his body crumpled to the floor in a pool of blood. Like thinking about how much had to happen between then to ‘now’ in the fic takes me right out of the fic bc that’s just what mentions of times Bruce was a bad father do to me 😭

I prob could’ve worded that more succinctly and shorter but as you may notice I expand a lot on my thoughts lmao. But if you do think up any prompts on Bruce being a complicated father in regard to Jason’s rule over Crime alley, please share!! I’d love to read them and MAYBE write something if the creative juices start flowing

Side note: Good mom Talia is my life blood. Like the struggle of trying to raise her children in such an unforgiving environment where she’s been trapped since SHE was a child OR in a place that, while not actively harming them (in a League where Ra’s isn’t evil), isn’t giving them the opportunity to shine the way she knows they could. Good shit.

Very valid. Everyone’s got their own preferences regarding tropes and world building 💚 and I can totally understand the batarang incident part. Jason should be pissed about it. Rightfully so. On the other hand I refuse to view this part as canon because the Batman I know would never and I steadfastly refuse to write this part as anything other than an accident/misunderstanding in every single fic ever lmaooo

Hehe I’ll try to come up with some complex parent Bruce Wayne prompts soon, so keep an eye on the corresponding tag ✨

And y e s, good mom Talia is awesome. Talia’s life hasn’t been easy but she’s trying to make the best of it and carve out her own little space of happiness for her and her son, and upon realizing that it’s still not enough immediately prioritizes her son’s safety and wellbeing to send him to live with Bruce. Something I imagine would be absolute agony for any loving mother. 🥺

[intertexts]

miss g thoughts? miss g thoughts. OKAY. YEAH. i haven't actually thought about the prime force a whole lot yet bc I wanted to learn more about the triumvirate . which. considering the arc I'm on now! well!! so this is gonna be just on the spot thrown together ideas and I'll reform them later.

Basically miss g/hexpert I am thinking like. what if miss militia had the demeanor of an elementary school teacher and the sheer Presence of alexandria. I imagine she's SUPER popular with the public, she's the Face of the prime force (because. Come on. your other options are harlem shade and origami and NEITHER of them should be trusted to talk to the media on their own) . so like. on the surface she's!! friendly!! and personable!! and kids love her!! and she still has her "teaching moments" thing. and she genuinely is kind and wants to help and do the right thing but... this is worm . she's the triumvirate equivalent leader. she's seen some shit she's done some shit. her powers are actually functionally pretty similar to miss militia except instead of weapons it's Tools so... she can be BRUTAL when she needs to be. and she will be. because she understands what would happen if she wasn't. I imagine because she's the face of the prime force and she is like.... family friendly as much as that means anything in worm.. there's a bigger effort from the prt and media to kind of. cover up when she does some fucked up shit. to keep that image. and there's this silent agreement between she and Harlem that because he's openly very much more... dark and edgy. I think he takes the fall for her whenever something like that comes out. "the prime force killed x villain in cold blood" and Harlem openly says "yeah that was me. it needed to be done" so that miss g can still function as the face. harlem is rlly popular with. edgy teens. I think this probably causes some tension with Jason, not because he feels bad about lying to the public but because he doesn't want to get blamed for things he didn't do. the three of them are friends and everything but. you listened to folding paper you know how Jason is.

ANYWAY ANYWAY. I think that's most of it for now. I imagine it's a bit of a culture shock (probably mostly for dakota) to grow up seeing miss g smiling on TV only to join the wards and see things for how they really are when she. brutally dispatches an echidna style clone with ruthless efficiency using a fucking. wire garrote or something.

YEAAAAA AWESOME. also. hahaha. lmao. well. i guess you know more about the triumvirate now!

LOVE THIS FOR HER. BTW. she summons tools is fucking TERRIFYING, btw. tool is such a loosely defined word?? reminds me a little bit of eidolon too, ngl... like, a version of his power where she doesn't get *powers specifically*, but she gets. whatever else she needs in any situation. that goes SO HARD. there are. my mind is spiraling in so many ways thinking about how well that power fits to a multitude of scenarios. is she still hexpert?? because. there's not really any magic aesthetics involved?? or is she just expert......... that doesnt sound as cool. idk. maybe it does? you could do some fun branding with that. always call the expert. etc. anyway this is really good i love the facade of it all... she genuinely is good and kind and wants to do right!! it's just. impossible to do that and keep your hands clean sometimes. the dynamic btwn the prime force here is so compelling also. give them a complicated at times strained but still genuine friendship!

[pondslime]

vincent!!! and rz! mike myers, jason voorhees!! ( if you want !!! )

AAAAAAAA what a line-up!!!

regrettably tho, I never made it thru the entirety of rz's halloween 💀 I got about halfway in and then got distracted by smthn else hfdjhdfjshjdfsh 🤡 and UNFORTUNATELY..................jason's too much of my babylittleguydude for me to conceptualize smoochin him???? I tried and. he's too baby. hdfsjhjdfshjfdsh but I did TRY

so, like a basic ass bitch, I just wrote stuff for vinny. 😔 tysm for the ask tho aaaaaaaaa MWAH MWAH 💖

feel free to send me a character of ur choice for headcanons and I’ll give u 3 pros and 3 cons of dating them. if ur so inclined!!!!

vincent

3 PROS

the calm of being able to exist in silence w/someone else. discovering a way to speak a language without words. finding a reprieve from the constant chaos in quiet moments where u can just.....BE. w/no pretense. sharing late night meals in the kitchen. taking naps in his subterranean lair while he sculpts for hours.

he gives me BIG body worship vibes. he's an artist and he's definitely thinking massive big brain thoughts about the curve of ur boob and comparing it to a hieronymus bosch painting. where tf did that connection come from?? well, come on the twenty-year odyssey voyage of his thought process and maybe u will figure out!! probably not, tho!! he's just a ponderous ass mfer. curious about every inch of u. v slow and methodical. all about taking his time and learning what makes u tick. this is for art!!!!

if artistic devotion and tributes get u goin, he's v much the Guy. get ready 2 be incorporated in all his pieces. u start finding lovingly detailed charcoal sketches of u on ur nightstand. he shows u a new oil painting and there are ur eyes, starin back @ u. meticulously crafted miniatures of u on the kitchen windowsill. granted, ur usually merged with a spider. or a serpent of some kind. and it's honestly pretty creepy. but the detail is really somethin.

3 CONS

SUPER weird codependent relationship. just like bo, I feel like he's absolutely searching for mama. perhaps even more so? bc I just feel that it's likely that he was sequestered inside for most of his youth. I can't see trudy enrolling him in school/letting him interact with a lot of people. he was her favorite of the twins and I'm sure she wanted to cultivate a relationship where he was entirely dependent on her. it would serve double purposes for her: being needed and adored unequivocally.......while also driving a wedge between the twins themselves. that one line in the og script where carly tells bo that he's talentless (LMAO) and that his mother hated him bc he stole her favorite's face. yep. YEAH.

a partner is more of a muse/concept than a person. v much a mirror of bo's weirdness, but in a less obvious way. due to what's bound to be TONS of one-sided communication, he's definitely prone to build up an idea of what kind of person u are. rather than really understanding u. the technicalities of who u are don't really matter bc he views u through a lens of a source of inspiration, something to be molded into his art, something ABSTRACT.

he's unpredictable. his violence is a LOT more unknowable......and significantly more difficult to comprehend than bo's violence. IMO! all of his kills are brutal and almost clinical. he grew up surrounded by medical textbooks and his childhood paintings are surreal and contort the human form into weird shapes. I v much feel like the anatomy of a body and how it is pieced together/could be taken apart is more important to him than.........idk........the fact that that body is inhabited by somebody. yikes!!! I think you'd v much be walkin on eggshells w/him. bc how do u know when the inspiration might run dry. and ur function will have to change. YIKES.

[ioannemos]

wow, fun asks. here: 2, 4, 10, 20, 29, 35, 42, 44, 47, 49, 58, 62, 64, 65

wow, lots of questions haha 😁

talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

the only thing that comes to mind atm is actually the reverse of this. a character told me "i'm not doing that," i said "yes you are," and the character said "no i'm not and your story is DEAD now." it's been about a million years since i worked on it so i don't even remember what it was. the fandom was star wars, i remember that much...

what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

i'm not sure, tbh. my foodless bubble city concept has finally been put to use in a fanfic, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe my reverse aladdin plot bunny? had that one for a while. no existential dread bc, like, it's neat, but i'm having fun with other stuff

at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

there must be a title or the story is not written down. period. even if the title is boring or lame or doesn't quite make sense, it Must have a title or it stays in my head

my standards are not high, tho. i'll name it a word in the story's epigraph, a suitable verb/adjective/noun, a phrase from the song that inspired it, etc.

what is your favorite trope to write?

is hurt/comfort a trope?

give us a spoiler for one of your stories.

rodney never recovers

[bc i will wonder later: silence like darkness]

tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot.

jason. thinks books are boring. watches anime. could probably bench press a pick-up truck. works out for fun. enjoys cheap beer and spicy food. could kill you several different ways without even bringing in weaponry other than his body and training but would rather challenge you to dumb stunts like 'who can balance on a chair's two back legs the longest' or. well basically anything in my 'boys will be boys' tag

he is. such a jock. short king. borderline himbo. i love him

describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

exposed, wind, reaching, cowboys, post-apocalypse

[bc i will wonder later: manifest]

any writing advice you want to share?

write what you want, fam. don't worry about being unique or cliche or whether people will like it, or even whether you'll finish it. write for yourself first

what story are you most proud of?

hmm. madonna in orange

do you want to be published some day?

hoo boy. uh. maybe??? idk. it sounds like a lot of work and a lot of time and you have to finish the story... not a realistic dream

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

don't remember but it was probably how to spell a word, does this word mean what i think it means, or looking up psychosis (again)

what’s the weirdest reason you’ve ever shipped something?

the weirdest one off the top of my head is also probably my weirdest ship, obi-wan/shmi. i started shipping them when i realized they were relatively close in age, had to raise anakin, and never met in canon. it started as, idk, kind of a joke? but now i'm kinda into it

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve read?

went looking through my bookmarks and ah yes, Nothing Says "Feel Better Soon" Like Grand Theft Larceny (white collar fic)

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written?

i am weirdly attached to no such thing as an innocent bystander but i also like manifest, wandering stars, how to be forgiven, the house at the end of the world, laqueus, madonna in orange...

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Tamara Fox, Some OC for cuteness Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Sickfic, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Tim Drake is Not Red Robin, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Crying, so much crying, Love Confessions, Cheesy, God it's so cheesy, Cringe, So sweet so cheesy so angsty that you'll cringe, Tim Drake-centric, some Jason POV tho, A wild X-men appereance, I know they're not the same universe but I'm running out of character and running out of creativity, So yeah X-men characters and vaugly their mansion/orphanage too, Bruce Wayne Bashing, Some things that I don't put down bcs it'll be a spoiler, Smoking, Implied/Referenced Sex, POV from a cat????, The Clichést Cliché that ever Cliché, Cliche Summary:

They meet again on a rooftop after ten years. They're different now, and things are not the same. It's all too late. Chapter 1 sneakpeek

“Don’t jump.”

Sighing exasperatedly, Tim puts down his cigarette-clutching fingers and drags his eyes to the source of the voice. His gelled-back hair loses its hold and a strand of ear-length bangs falls to his vision.

Sadly, without seeing him and just from the voice, Tim knows exactly who this person is. One of the Bat franchise, and it just had to be the Red Hood variation, fucking great. Out of all time, it has to be tonight. The world is playing a joke on him.

Tim is sitting hunched on the rooftop’s edge, wishing he’d have some peace and quiet for once, and of course one of these pestering bats just has to bug him at the worst time. Yet, it’s actually pretty rare for Red Hood to patrol Gotham lately, and Tim curses up a storm in his mind. Out of all the days, it just has to be fucking tonight.

No, Tim is not having it.

“This man has too much to do tomorrow to jump.” Tim looks away, getting a light from his suit.

One hand lighting another one of his death stick, and the other unbuttoning his suit and loosens his tie. After a puff and two, Tim drags in and keeps the smoke in, letting his nerves uncoil. Seems like it doesn’t work that well when the big bad shadow of a vigilante doesn’t move from the corner of his eyes.

“I’m not jumping, go away, I can’t deal with you tonight,” Tim says as he sighs the smoke away to the red polluted sky, thinking the man must be deaf or just not convinced. Maybe the latter, the bats are famous for their tact after all. People say they’re purely human. Seeing Red hood’s physique, maybe this one becomes meta-human at some point.

Tim looks the other way so the vigilante is completely out of his vision, to make a point that he’s not having this conversation. He looks to the city, engulfed by the red sky. It’s bright since this building is at the heart of the city, where the higher caste of Gothamites live and prosper. You can see the border around the bright side of the city where the lights stop dead and darkness begins. The poor side of the city. The gap is ghastly, it’s what makes Gotham what it is.

Tim is not surprised but highly disappointed when he hears shuffling instead, and when he looks at where the tall brick wall of a man, he already sits down next to him. Red Hood keeps a respectable distance though, at least he has that much of a tact.

Red Hood hooks his fingers inside his helmet, does some finger shimmy, and the red shiny mask helmet is off. His face is still covered by a domino mask, his hair looks damp, and his gloved hands rake his jet black hair back. Curls bounce to his forehead, sighing a fog, the only indication that the weather is reaching the end of the year. In turn, Tim felt his cleanly shaved nape chilled.

From inside the leather jacket, the vigilante digs to look for something, and that’s when Tim realized he’s been looking at the cuts on Red Hood’s exposed forearms from the folded sleeves. Very thick and muscled forearms. This guy either lifts all day or a meta-human, not that Tim cares anymore.

“Got a light?” Red says, plush lips smirking.

Tim sighs, guess he has company today. He digs into his suit and throws him his lighter. The masked man inspects it and Tim rolls his eyes. The lighter is a metal one that you flip, and on it engraved ‘From my heart with love, that this one lasts longer, Tam.’

“A sweetheart of yours?” Says the man, the second sentence he speaks, and Tim doesn’t recognize the voice. Deep, gravely, the typical voice of someone that smokes.

Red Hood extends his hand to give back the lighter to Tim instead of throwing it, must’ve thought it’s special.

“Kind of,” Tim says, receiving the lighter.

Red Hood drags in, keeps the smoke in, “Why kind of?” and sighs.

“Never established the relationship.”

“Commitment issues?”

Tim quirks an eyebrow at the man, sitting just as hunched as him. There’s a pillar beside Tim, and he lays his back there, thinking whether or not he should engage in this conversation. Eh, why not right? It’s not like it’s confidential information, and Tim is just so tired of caring about social politics.

“I was too late,” Tim says. It’s not as painful to say now, but lately, Tim has been numb. He’s been numb for years. Tim’s gay, or so he thought. When he began to really love her, she’s gone from him.

“Girl got another guy?” Red Hood teases.

“Girl got dead,” Tim deadpans. The smile dropped from the vigilante’s mouth, and if only he can see his eyes, panic would look funny on the all-powerful Bat. But, no, Tim can see his tell by the tapping hands.

“Ah fuck, sorry.”

Tim chuckles at the spectacle of an awkward vigilante. Maybe this night won’t be so bad after all.

“Relax, I’m not too sad about it now, it was years ago.”

It’s hard to predict Red’s expression with that domino mask that takes his cheekbones and half his forehead, but Tim’s pretty sure the twist on that mouth means his opinion of Tim isn’t good. Well, not that Tim cares.

“How did she die?”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Tim put the filter on his lips and drags in as deep as he can. Too deep, and Tim coughs hard, once and twice that his vision blurs. Her face comes to vision, the morbidity of her expression tips Tim’s nerves off balance. Tim quickly takes another deep drag, “She was in the Joker’s way.”

At the name, Red Hood snaps his face at Tim. Slowly, languidly, Tim looks back. The vigilante clenched jaw and balled fists look like he’s about to kill somebody. Tim knows that a few years ago Red Hood kidnapped Joker, didn’t kill him, and just vanished before popping up again to have a vendetta against Batman. What a load of drama those bunch.

This also means that Tim knows exactly who this person is. Suddenly the voice registers, the familiar jaw, the soft fucking tone.

He blames it on the nicotine that his heart is calmer than he’d like, his mind still not on overdrive, still plagued with Tam’s face as she died in front of him. He’d breathe smoke instead of oxygen if he could. God he wished he’d breathe smoke from now on. Why does it have to be today? One grace from the universe is that Tim -for some reason- feels amused instead of dread.

“You look like you’re about to kill somebody, Red,” Tim says, can’t help the ease and sass in his voice. Tim lays back hunched, crosses his legs. “I thought you let go of your vendetta against the Joker.”

“Where do you hear that bullshit?” Redhood snaps and Tim can’t help but let go another chuckle.

“People talk, words get around,” Tim says.

“Then they’re far off the truth,” Red hisses before dragging in his cig.

“Yet the Joker still roams.”

“Ain’t my call.”

“Is it the big bat daddy calls?”

Red Hood splutters at the name and Tim smirks evilly at the reaction. “Ew, don’t call him that!”

“I can call that higher-than-thou furry hero wannabe anything I want,” Tim spits bitterly, looking out to the city. Sometimes when he’s really lucky, he’ll catch one of the bats twirling in the sky, and now one of ‘em is sitting beside him, but sadly it’s not the most shocking knowledge he has today. “One of these days it’s going to be my turn.”

“What?”

“Dying in the collision of mad men’s evil master plan you refuse to get rid of.”

“Ck, I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

“Sorry then, I don’t mean to insinuate anything. This is me telling you loud and clear that you’re all cowards for not killing these maniacs that kill us like ants when you have the power to stop them.” Tim’s voice is even and chill, it did not raise a tone, but it reduces the bulk of a man beside him to still. “Some of us rooted for you when you caught the Joker, and your reputation gives us high hopes that it’ll be the last of him. Then he showed up again.” Tim feels the lighter in his pocket burn, “Then Tam died.”

Tim pumps his lung full of smokes, keeping it in there so that the clawing gloom will die before it takes roots.

“I almost did kill him, Batman stopped me,” the gravel voice says lowly.

Tim feels himself stiffens, now that’s something he doesn’t know. His eyes scan the hunched vigilante, trying to find any sign of a lie, there’s none.

“Shit,” Tim curses, sighing up smoke and quickly takes a deep drag in. “Fuck Batman.”

For the first time, Tim hears Red chuckle, “Yeah, fuck him.”

“Still your family though, right?” Tim says, earning what he thinks is a glare, who would fucking know with that mask. “Why else would you stay in his line?”

Red Hood looks away, not answering.

“Guess I understand. Proving something to someone.”

Red scoffs, “Would you?”

“You know who I am.”

“Yeah, not your story.”

Tim scoffs at the obvious lie, “Look it up. I have better things to do than telling you my backstory that’s a google search away.”

Tim Drake. Son of the CEOs of Drake Industries. Running smoothly since ever he becomes the COO. Yada yada, young and successful, yada yada, has the reputation to chew out the reporters and a resting bitch face, all that shit. Tim doesn’t have the best bedside manners, but when it comes to business, Tim gets things done, and his business partners know to swallow their pride for a potential too stupid to missed just because Tim has fangs.

“I dunno, you’re pretty mysterious in the eye of the media,” Red says.

“Because they’re nosy pricks and not worth my time when they’re asking me about rumors of my flings.”

“They’re not true?”

“What the fuck are you? Does TMZ sent you?”

“Good point, never mind.”

They let the quiet settle in, and Tim isn’t too bothered by the company so much. The red amber eats to his filter. Tim puts out the light and puts the bud back inside the pack while he gets another one. He looks down at his light, which reminded him of Tam. Damn, she was such a good assistant, she’s also his best friend but a damn better assistant. Tim doesn’t let himself think about it.

He lights another, and puffs.

“Shouldn’t you be patroling?” Tim says before he can stop himself.

“Nah, not here to patrol, just some errands.”

“Don’t mind me. I’m not jumping.”

“No, I know that,” Red says, tone softer that Tim narrows his eyes at him.

“Lonely?” Tim teases, putting the filter in his lips while locking eyes to the pair of white lenses.

Red shrugs, “Just wanna kill time with someone that doesn’t wear one of these,” he says, tapping to his domino mask.

Tim hums imagining himself with his family, “Yeah, me too, I’d take a vigilante franchise over family dinner anytime.”

“Aww,” Red surprisingly coos, making Tim flustered.

“Don’t get it twisted, my family sets a pretty low bar for good company.”

“I can say the same, Timmy.”

Tim flinches, “I didn’t say you can call me Timmy.”

“What about friends then?” Red follows up, ignoring him.

“Joker killed my only best friend. Oh god, stop making that face, everyone I know got someone they know killed by the Joker, or Bane, or.... shit just those freaks.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I don’t care what you feel.”

“I’m wounded,” Red says in that joking ‘boo-hoo’ voice but it was the last thing to snap Tim’s patience completely. He hates this casual conversation as if nothing happened.

“I’m not jumping, and I know you’re not here just to talk to some random civilian. You know who I am, so say what you wanna say and go,” Tim inhales deeply after the low-toned rant, only to be met with another silence.

They stay quiet for a few whiles again. Smoking the tension away. After Tim’s cig burns halfway, his nerves calmed down. Then he realizes that Red is looking at him. Staring.

“What?” Tim says, sighing smoke.

“Would you kill Joker if you could?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Killing someone isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially if you did it before.”

“You underestimate my anger then.”

Red Hood goes still for what Tim is insinuating. His phone vibrates in his pocket. Tim gets it and his new assistant reminds him of a flight in an hour and he needs to be ready in half. Tim puts out his cig and pockets it.

As he stands up, he looks down at Red Hood, really looks at him. It reminded Tim of the time has passed. It’s been so long.

“Nothing to say?” Tim asks, he has an underlying tone of ‘last chance.’

“Thanks for the light.”

Tim clenches his jaw and breaths slowly. What did he expect? “You caught me at a bad time but it’s good to meet you again, Jason.”

When Tim walks away, his elbow is grabbed and he’s spun to face Jason in all his bulk. Looming over him with his height.

“You know who I am?” Red says with a threat in his voice that makes Tim wants to laugh.

“Are you really that surprised? Or did you forget me when you fucking died?” Tim smiles bitterly.

Moments passed, eyes on each other, chest to chest. The last time he sees Jason, Tim was staring at these white lenses too, and Jason was still as tall as him. At this close, Tim sees tiny tears that heal pale than the rest of his tan skin, bulked up body looming over him that used to be similar to his. For anyone, Tim had two best friends, Robin and Jason Wayne-Todd, he had known the two are the same. Seems like Jason doesn’t.

Doesn’t matter now. Everything said and done. Too late.

“Say your goodbyes now,” Tim says, because why else would his childhood friend pops back again after a decade of not saying anything after he returned to life. Tim doesn’t realize it’ll hurt this bad though. Missing Tam doesn’t hurt this bad.

Perhaps it was because the scar never healed right, but he still thinks of Jason like a big chunk of him that’s been torn away forcefully, even now.

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally says, low and guilty, as he should be, but it irks Tim to no end.

“I lost you, and when you’re back you didn’t tell me,” Tim says, his voice cracks and he curses it to hell. Red Hood’s been around for years, and Jason never came to Tim to say he’s alive.  “If you have nothing else to say, let go of me.”

“I didn’t know that you knew.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you know I was Robin... Did you know... everyone?”

Tim rolls his eyes, “Yes.” Gloved hands still on his elbow, and white lenses not letting him go. The non-challant face he wears slips off as if oil just slicked between the mask and his skin. His heart picks up a beat. There are layers between their skin, Jason’s thick gloves and Tim’s three-piece suit, but it feels warmer. Burning.

“Damn,” Jason curses under his breath.

It’s just a little thing, but Jason’s silence following that is a nother prick to Tim’s skin.

“Is that all?” Tim dismissed, pulling his arm away, but Jason only holds tighter.

“I didn’t know, okay?” Jason pushes, “And you’re a civilian, you’re not supposed to know Jason Todd is back to the land of the living.”

“A civilian,” Tim mutters under his breath. That’s all he is to Jason? All this time. His chest hurts, Tim knows this is because of Jason’s words instead of anything else. “Get away from me.”

“I’ll see you again,” Jason says before letting go.

Before Tim can say don’t bother, the man puts on his red helmet and grapples away. For a moment Tim can see the shadow of red yellow green flying away.

[dykesbat]

okok songs from my bruce playlist + reasons

first love / late spring by mitski

“and I was so young when I behaved twenty-five / Yet now I find I’ve grown into a tall child… Please hurry, leave me, I can’t breathe / Please don’t say you love me / Mune ga hachikire-sōde”

pretty self-explanatory! bruce is emotionally immature and just. yeah i feel like he oftentimes does feel the same as he did in that alleyway yknow. maybe he’s realizing the depths of how immature he is right here in the moment of recognizing that the person he finds himself loving right now is also someone he could potentially lose. i think of bruce as someone who loves a lot. maybe here he’s acknowledging how the price of loving is the possibility of pain.

everybody lost somebody by bleachers

THIS ENTIRE SONG BROOOOOOO

“It’s this dream I keep having where I’m begging / Just to give myself a break / But there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to wake up and remember it / I wanna wake up and remember”

Bruce being an avid dreamer is a pretty popular concept n idk I think the concept of his dreams diverging from the nightmares of his loss to a dream of him acknowledging that he’s mourning and wanting the world to stop or like. him having a nightmare where the only coherent words he remembers after waking up is just his internal “i’m so tired” but maybe its survivors guilt maybe its just the desperation to hold on to whatever he can of the people that he lost maybe he's just trying to hold on to all the good and the good memories are just. so intertwined with the pain of loss. but he doesn’t want to let go of it

“I think pain is waiting alone at the corner / Tryna get myself back home, yeah / Looking like everybody / Knowing everybody lost somebody... A reason I see myself in a million faces / A reason I can't stop it all from changing / So come on, motherf*^&r, you survive”

i think these lines can be used to represent him turning his pain into his efforts for making gotham better. basically just. redirecting the love into the city and the people rather than only mourning. obv it would be his entire mission after his parent’s deaths. and for canon continuity reasons—since it's a bit more hopeful maybe it's after jason’s death and after tim comes around? idk i imagine bruce remembering his parents and remember jason around the manor hallways and on the city rooftops. the whole “trying to get myself back home” can be like home = the person lost or just. literally bruce trying to put in the effort to dragging himself back home for (himself? tim? alfred? hmm.) n the other lines are just. him seeing himself in gotham and seeing worth in human life. it connects to his compassion and his no-kill-rule and his empathy and his taking in of his children. and like yeah he can’t stop it all from changing he can't prevent every death but he’ll try to. the survive line is also pretty self-explanatory. 

garden song by phoebe bridges

“I don't know when you got taller / See our reflection in the water / Off a bridge at the Huntington / I hopped the fence when I was seventeen / Then I knew what I wanted”

ok so I'm thinking. him talking abt dick in the first few lines. probably after reconciling with him after they've been enstranged for so long and he’s feeling regretful for the mistakes he made there while thinking of their past times together.  maybe he took younger dick to a place he went to when he solidified his plan to train abroad? 

“And it’s gonna be just like my recurring dream / I’m at the movies, I don’t remember what I’m seeing / The screen turns into a tidal wave”

do I have to explain.. avid dreamer bruce,, the movies,, the dream ending terribly,, gn!

“I don’t know how, but I’m taller / It must be something in the water / Everything’s growing in our garden / You don’t have to know that it’s haunted”

idk how to explain it? but just. bruce growing up in a manor that suddenly feels larger than it ever did before. n it feels like he took his parents ghosts w him and left whatever his childhood was back in that alley. and part of him can pick out what he felt on that day. and so much changed and he’s grown? he’s grown older than his father ever was? and he doesn’t know how that's possible?

class of 2013 by mitski

“Mom, can you wash my back / This once, and then we can forget / And I’ll leave what im chasing / For the other girls to pursue…. Mom am I still young / Can I dream for a few months more” 

ok no he is not financially struggling n i will b honest this is a self-indulgent song to maximize relatability <3 but my decision to put this song was also based on the idea of him just. missing him mom so muchhhh?? maybe a dream? maybe the aftermath of fear gas? who knows but here the “forget” will just be for his parent's deaths. I imagine this to be somewhat akin to the mask of phantasm monologue he has at his parents grave. (spoilers for that: he’s basically asking his parents for forgiveness for potentially abandoning his oath of bettering Gotham as Batman). last line makes me #$%^&*( just. hnnnnnnn imagine him waking up blurry eyed and brain fogged and he’s just grasping onto the false belief of his parents still being there n clinging on to the comfort of his pre-crime alley childhood before he truly wakes up. 

 sick of losing soulmates by dodie

okok this is on my bruce + romance playlist too bc it reminded me of batcat and bruharvey. it can also be interpreted as his fam ig? but I feel like that doesn’t apply for most of the song.

“God knows what I would be if you hadn’t found me / Sitting all alone in the dark… What the hell would I be without you / Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth… Cause I’m sick of losing soulmates / So where do we begin / I can finally see you’re as f$:$:&ed up as me / So how do we win”

 I just think. that. Bruce would have abandonment issues. first four lines can be taken for all three (batcat, bruharv, the family) interpretations. the truth being hidden doubling both as his identity as Batman and just. the fact that he loves them lol (batcat, bruharv). last three lines lean towards bc and bh but personally they reminded me more of bat cat (probably bc ppl always say they’re so similar). basically I feel like this song could signify their fears of losing each other in whatever way that means (romantically, platonically, death) bc they both care for each other so much and impact each other so muchhsuagdj but at the same time it feels like its bound to end badly. (ofc it doesn't. whether or not they like. break up from a romance or have a falling out between friends i’d like to think some time after they heal they become reconnect n their relationship w each other is stronger and so alike what it was before but different bc its just. so much healthier this time. and to copy and paste from my thoughts on my other playlist: bruce crashes at selinas house sometimes and she makes the him catsit for her bc she thinks it’s funny when he complains abt her cats and calls them mean names and then gets a picture of bruce knocked out cuddling them like 30 m later courtesy alfred)

[peeterparkr]

Not smut but potentially one with Dick where him and the reader are keeping their relationship a secret and she stays over at his (😉) and in the morning they’re off to brunch with friends so try and enter the place at different times etc to not give it away that they came together and they think they’re safe until one of the gang says “hey! Isn’t that Dicks sweatshirt y/n?” And she gets all red and flustered - lol idk but that would be hella cute!

oh but there’ll be smut bc I combined it with this one, this is filth with some angst and then some fluff and it’s a rollercoaster

warnings: smut, swearing, 18+

word count: like 2,5k 

Busted. 

Love can be too complicated. Relationships are complicated. Dick Grayson was complicated. So much so that you preferred to keep it a secret.

Easier than having to explain to the world that in reality the feelings you had always had for him were never negative, they had always been awe and sometimes a little contempt, but you supposed that it was given to the fact that Dick was someone you thought you couldn’t have.

You hated that he was so perfect. It was a compliment to hate him, now you knew. He was always there with his perfect eyes that could kill you with just one look. That smile that could manipulate you. Make a fool out of you. 

We are talking about Dick Grayson, who really has got a bunch of problems, with the lack of love he had when growing up and the big abandonment issues, thanks, Batman. Always wanting to be alone.

Neither of you wanted to explain to the world that your whole act of hating the other was nothing more than a façade for the crush you both had towards the other and how much it frustrated that you couldn’t have the other. The nerves you would get whenever you saw him, all flustered, maybe that was why it was easier to insult him so that he would let you believe that you hated him and make you believe that you were not deeply in love with him.

How did you both reach that conclusion? How did you both realize that you were both desperately in love with each other? Being alone, what that can be. One thing led to another and as the big drama queens you both were, you’d both searched for the other in a stormy night just to end up making out with your clothes on the floor.

But you needed to keep that a secret, mostly because neither of you could understand how you could be so fond of someone who’d constantly make you lose your temper. Because you’re so alike, stubborn and incredibly bossy. 

Add to all of that, it’s Dick Grayson who we are talking about. He loves to make a big deal out of everything. But of course that’s only because he cares enough. Too much sometimes for your own convenience. 

There were still a lot of things you despised about him. Like whenever he would always be wrong, even when he is right. Or the way he’d make you smile even if you had basically ended an argument. 

The fact that at the end of the day, he was still a sweetheart.

But you had to hide it. Because you loved him. And who in this world understands love? You didn’t want anyone trying to explain it to you. You liked to figure it out on your own.

Besides hiding made it way much more interesting. It was a challenge. Even spiced things up in the relationship. You still hated him, to everyone else. And he still hated you. And sometimes you knew you both did hate each other, not pretending. So annoyed by each other’s presence because you’re both so equal yet so different. 

And you were very good at hiding it. Even when you couldn’t quite keep your hands to yourself. You’d manage to keep up the hating relationship to a certain level where they wouldn’t even think you’d ever be in the same room alone.

Sometimes the arguments would go a bit too far, but you’d end up apologizing and making it up in bed.

Just like you probably were going to, now. Rachel was there, watching you both make an argument about how stupid having brunch and inviting Jason Todd, whom you were pushing to get into the group. He was a nice addition.

Rachel was sitting with her feet up on the couch, as she was watching some videos on her phone, ignoring you both. However, truth to be told, you had almost forgotten that Rachel was there and it had kind of turned into a real fight. 

“I don’t want anything to do with Bruce Wayne, and Jason—Jason still has everything to do with him!” Dick yelled. 

You closed your eyes, “Oh my God, Dick, you’re not— this is what all of this is about?” 

Dick rolled his eyes. “No, but I… I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. This is stupid–I…I am going home. Fuck Batman.”

You knew why this was happening, he saw himself in Jason Todd, he saw it too badly. But he saw a lot of things he never had had with Bruce and that bothered him, and that made Dick despise him even more. 

And you were home, and you were supposed to stay at home. Sleepover with young Rachel, you guys loved those, they meant fun nights.

You watched Dick storm off and slam the door. You wondered if it was part of the act or if he really meant it. Dick didn’t know Rachel knew. You knew she knew.

You squeezed your eyes shut. 

“You guys really hate each other don’t you?” Rachel asked you, she was going to stay the night. 

“You’ve no idea.” 

“But he didn’t mind about the brunch.”

You shrugged. “Thought he didn’t. But now he’s angry we are all spending it together like a big happy family.”

“Go, fix it, I’ll start the movie and you can come back later.” 

Rachel, you knew, was probably very aware of the real situation, not because you’d told her but you couldn’t possibly lie to her, but she hid it from everyone else, knowing  damn well you’d been hiding it for a reason.But you had never adressed it, and she had never asked about it. Maybe she didn’t know. You both were very convincing when it came to making everyone believe you hated each other. 

So you did as she said, you followed after him to his car. You hopped in.

“I’m leaving.”

“I know,” you said. “You can start driving, I’m coming with you.” Dick stared at you. You pointed at the road.

He clenched his jaw but started the car.

“Go to Wayne Manor,” you ordered.

“Wayne—“

“Batcave, more specifically,” you added. He stared at you. You smirked, running your hand through his thgh, and you could easily see a bulge forming in his pants. “Fuck Batman, right?”

He started driving as fast as he could and you let your fingers walk down his leg. 

“I’m not in the mood,” he snarled, but you looked down at the growing length.

“Seems like you are, though,” you pointed out, and you chuckled, leaning over to peck his cheek. He cleared his throat. But drove fast enough, you’d tease him, running your fingers through his arm, to his chest and to his leg, nowhere close, but enough to get him flustered. 

The Batcave, it gave you such a challenge. It was incredibly hot, to think you were sneaking there. As soon as he hit the brakes, he turned to you and unbuttoned your blouse, as he jumped over you, kissing your lips and trailing his way down to your neck, you moaned closing your eyes. The way he kissed you was always a new experience. 

“Wait– Dick,” you managed to say as he was already grinding against you, his hands pressing your breasts. He was sucking on your collarbone as you let out a soft gasp. “Want to piss off Batman more?” 

His eyes, filled with fire turned to you, as he just shot an eyebrow up. 

“Let’s go to the Batmobile,” and there’s a sound in your voice that made you sound even more into it than you actually were. If we were honest, you feared getting caught but, of course, it would make it a thousand per cent even more interesting. 

And in no time, he picked you up and opened up the doors to it, setting you down. It’s smaller than Dick’s but it doesn’t matter, because with no further ado, Dick pulled down your underwear and he’s set between your tighs. He kept kissing you and his fingers pinched your breasts, you could feel his hot breath as he pulled the seat down, making it easier for both of you. The reducted space pulled you even closer. Your legs were snaking around him as he kissed from the space between your breasts to your stomach. You looked up and took off his shirt, clawing your nails into his back as you pulled him down to your lips.  His own hands were caressing your legs, his fingers toying with you. 

Your lips were focused on his neck now, trailing wet kisses over it, and your hands were going down to knead his ass, as he was grinding into you, causing friction to your core, as the bulge on his pants kept growing.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, as you were unbuckling his belt with desperation. You were in such an ecstasy as you accidentally hit a button. The car announced ‘error’ but you were too busy as his cock had popped out. His fingers grazed over your wetness as his tip teased your clit. He loved teasing you. 

“Dickie, I–” 

“Say it,” he ordered. 

“I need you, now,” you pleaded and he finally thrust into you. He started panting as he started to move inside, finding a slow soothing rhythm. A smug smirk upon his face as you’re moaning his name. He was cursing profanities and then yelling your name. You see the car windows blurring up, as you try to keep yourself comfortable. Your hand found the window but you pulled it back down, leaving a mark of your fingers all over it. 

He was fast and his fingers are all over you, edging you close each time he drew circles on your clit. And he loved seeing your face as you’re at your bliss, and he began slowing down his pace as his own back was arching. But he started to thrust even deeper, as your toes start to curl. You came first, but that was the cue he needed for his own high.his hot breath deep on your neck. He yelled your name in pleasure and then found your neck with his lips, peppering kisses all over it, just as he pulled out from you. Your chest was pounding as you watched him.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispered, causing a  short laugh from you, catching your breath. 

“For what? For helping you break the rules?” You grinned looking up at him, and he kissed your lips again. 

“Making everything fun,” he laughed. “Did… did… you push any buttons?” 

You turned to look at the board, embarrassed. “Maybe, a thing or two.” 

And both of you heard footsteps.“Shit, shit, shit,” Dick pulled up his pants and buttoned your shirt back on, you both quickly ran out of the car and you hid on Dick’s backseat, as he tried to make himself presentable, but the sweat and his panting were not easy to hide.

It was Alfred. “Master didn’t know you were coming.”

Dick cleared his throat. “I was—“ he ran a hand through his hair. “I was just—going to check on some information regarding the—uh, case with Mikron O’Jeneus.”

Alfred stared at Dick’s car where you were holding your breath, praying to all known deities that he wouldn’t catch you.

“Alright ” Alfred nodded. “Whenever you get the chance, please send my regards to Miss Y/N, you and her seem to be close lately.”

Dick blushed and gulped. “We are—working together on the case, that’s all,” He assured him.

Alfred nodded. “Alright, master Grayson.” 

When Alfred was gone, you both laughed in the car. He went to his place where round two happened, nothing wild, it was simpler and more romantic. Dick had managed to now make it more soothing, apologizing for his bitching attitude and smiling each time he kissed you. And that was the sweetheart you knew, it was fun, the vigilante and the dark Dick but then turning him into the beautiful thing he was. You loved him for both, both ‘Dicks’ were fun, and you knew you needed his lips, and you knew he meant it every time he said he loved you, because each time it was different and like hearing it for the first time. 

And the morning had consisted of him peppering you with new kisses, he’d invent one each morning. It was a routine, making each kiss special each time you woke up by his side. As he managed to take your breath away with that smile that was reserved only for you. And you were lucky because he truly never smiled the way he did to you. And you were sure that nobody truly saw hi the way you did, as the blinds would let in the light so the sunlight bathed him and only him. 

He had pecked all over your face, tickling you as he did. “You’re an idiot,” you stated, which was your way of telling him you loved him. 

“I know,” he grinned, that was the way he said it back. 

And he agreed to the brunch, at the end. But you both had to be careful, so when you arrived he dropped you a block away from it, the price you had to pay for wanting to keep your relationship private. He walked into the place first, and you found a place beside Kori. 

You grinned as you said hello to everyone, and then you turned stiff when your eyes landed on Dick. “Grayson.” 

“Y/L/N,” He didn’t even look up. 

Jason Todd watched you both, “Please act decent,” he pleaded. “Don’t fight here.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are so annoying,” Gar pointed out. 

Dick rolled his eyes. “We are adults, at least I’ll act like one, don’t worry.” 

You flipped him off, rolling your eyes, as you stole from Kori’s mimosa, taking a sip. 

“That’s mine,” she complained but ignored. 

Rachel stared at you. “Hey, y/n, why didn’t you come back home last night?” She asked. 

You almost spat your drink. “I did! You didn’t hear me and I woke up early for a run,” you lied. 

“Are you sure?” Kori pushed. “Because Alfred told me he saw you and Dick at the manor.” 

Dick laughed, nervously.  “Why would I be with her at the manor?”

“I dunno,” Kori smirked. “Same reason as to why she’s wearing your sweatshirt?” 

Both you and Dick froze.You stared down at your clothes, and you were indeed wearing a sweatshirt of his. 

“Busted,” all of them said. 

[powerosewaterpuff]

so i was having some late night feels (angst) aaanddd i’m adding onto the reverse robin au i was playing around with a while ago, which is jason being the oldest of the batkids with dick coming while he’s bruce’s partner aaaand yk i might’ve cried bUt yOU CANT PROVE ANYTHING

dick and jason had a little ritual they would do, whenever jason came back from patrol they would sit together, some reality tv playing as they just talked. it was mundane, and really wasn’t all that special as they debated whether real housewives of beverly hills was better than real housewives of new jersey, but dick found himself desperately yearning for it as he curled underneath jason’s bedsheets, hugging an old sweater that smelled like his older brother, whispering to a pillow, pretending that maybe it was jason

the night bruce came back, his heart gutted and carved out, resting heavily in his hollow chest, is not a day they ever talk about, ever. dick claims not to remember much of it, too much confusion and heartache. but he remembers counting every single breath bruce took before uttering the words that sent his world crashing down once again. he remembers the racking sobs that pierced into dicks ribs, as he kept repeating a self assuring mantra of thisisnthappeningthisisnthappeningthisisnthappening. he remembers bruce collapsing onto the caves floors, the weight of the world crushing him with its unrelenting rage. he remembers feeling paralyzed, unable to reach out to bruce and unable to comprehend what was happening, just like how frozen he was when his mother just slipped past his fingers, just brushing against it ever so lightly before crashing into a mess of blood and brain. he remembers running, running up the stairs, running from alfreds call, running from bruce’s shaking hand reaching out for him, running into jason’s room because he was alive, he knew he was alive this was all nightmare constructed in his head, only a nightmare that was bound to end (it never did)

bruce was against robin. bruce was against every shred of robin. he was against the idea of robin, the conception of robin, anything that had to do with robin was banned. he wouldn’t hear of it. but dick was always told he was a little bird born with a lions heart, and he proudly displayed it. he fought and fought and fought, because goddamnit bruce you’re killing yourself. bruce never really allowed it, but dick still did it. bruce would be on a constant lecture in patrols that consisted of go home right now or i’m dragging you back cape and all. it never really worked though, no matter how hard bruce tried to suppress it. dick would just come out the next night, ready to fight crime by bruce’s side with too much heart and too much enthusiasm (it was jason all over again.)

dick became far better at faking smiles from then on. it was ironic, if he really thought about it. his own performer parents had never taught him to lie so well, to grin so easily when his heart was aching with an immovable weight. but he knew he had to do it. his days were a sacrifice he was willing to give to make bruce content, if he could even do that. he knew bruce never slept, so he would trot into his room and plop onto his bed, and force bruce to read a book to him. dick didn’t really sleep, but he knew it brought bruce some shred of comfort when his son was by his side, safe and present. it was okay, really it was. dick could fake smiles for the rest of his life if it made bruce smile at him one more time.

bruce hadn’t been able to stomach looking at jason’s grave ever since the funeral. dick went every other day. he did a similar thing with his parents, because a lesson he had always been taught by them was that the dead while may not be able to talk back, did quite enjoy being talked to. maybe it was a silly childhood reassurance, to sooth dicks worries about death, but it helped. he would sit by jason’s grave and discuss anything and everything. he told him about how he had met this girl barbara who was the commissioners daughter and she was really awesome. he would blather on about how wally has already hit a growth spurt and roy was even taller then both of them which annoyed him to no end. it leaned towards nervous rambling at some point but that was okay, dick liked talking. it helped quiet his mind.

it was the small things that dick noticed that were never going to be the same. jason’s “designated” spot at the kitchen table was never touched. the console he had bought when he was around 14 wasn’t touched until a solid year later, but even then dick felt a little weird playing anything without jason’s snarky comments. waking up in the morning to go to school without jason either throwing a pillow at his face or dumping a bottle of water onto him is something he hates. jason’s phone was also kept in its exact spot, inside of the drawer of his nightstand without ever moving. (dick used to call it sometimes, just to hear the voicemail. he would leave a message behind too, but no one knew. no one ever found out about it either.)

dick hated how much he missed being called sky monkey. it was such a stupid nickname, from all the plethora of nicknames he had generously given jason the permission to use, he had stuck with baby bird and sky monkey. but jason used to laugh about it, telling him dick would never get a more fitting description of himself.

dick and bruce had one of their most heated arguments over that stupid plaque and case. dick remembers spitting out that bruce could stand looking at that good soldier but couldn’t even go see his sons grave. he knows it’s a low blow, but he’s burning with confusion and venom is dripping from his tongue. they (dick) talk about it a few night later, hug it out and what not, but it was a moment dick realized just how emotionally stunted bruce was and it set off a little angry flame in his chest. one that never quite fizzled out, but changed to sadness as the years went on.

it was weird reading shakespeare the first time in class for dick. he kept imagining jason’s voice in a midsummer nights dream. he kept closing his eyes and seeing the scene fold out in his head. jason playing lysander as he had his lines memorized the best, pouring every ounce of talent into his grand performance in their bedroom. dick had a little script in hand as he played puck, with each of them swapping out roles as the other characters. they had pranced around the room, hopping onto furniture and climbing onto beds. dick felt sick to his stomach playing lysanders role in a class reading, because he could hear so fucking clearly jason’s voice with his brimming accent come to life in his head. (or maybe it was because he felt an unexplainable feeling of pure guilt, because he lived. he’s playing lysander now. jason isn’t. and dick feels like a fucking thief)

(i’m stopping there before i cry oOPS I-UH IMMA GO REWATCH 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU BC THIS AU HAS A WAY OF DESTROYING MY HEART BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH ANYWAYS?? OH OH AND IF ANYONE HAS ANY GOOD BATFAM FIC RECS LIKE WHOLESOME FAMILY ONES PLS SEND THEM MY WAY PLS AND THANK YOU :)!! )

[elle-smells]

ok i can’t think of a specific ship but i j saw a comic of a pumpkin and i feel like thats a hard prompt but if u can find a way to connect that to literally any ship I’d be impressed kdfjhglkds <3 hope all is well

I'll take the opportunity to talk about 3 ships + pumpkin

Sobbe: they've taken a trip to NYC around Thanksgiving time so everything is v festive over there. They stumble upon a Pumpkin Carving contest. They look at each other, smirk and run to sign up. Look, it's a v hectic 30 minutes, and all I'll say is that Robbe will never stop reminding Sander of the time he beat a bunch of americans, and his Pretentious Artist of a boyfriend in a fucking pumpkin carving contest <3

Kieutou: In my head, they love baking together (maybe it's just me projecting my cottagecore wlw dreams but still). I think the first time it started to become "their thing" was when they were craving pumpkin pie bcs neither of them had had it before and the curiosity was killing them. So, as the geniuses they are, they thought they could just make one. Turns out pumpkin pie has a shit ton of spices and not that easy to get right (they were adamant on making it perfect). It was a long evening but hey, they had so much fun baking together and being cute in the kitchen that it became a thing they do a lot

Peter + Jason: I've said before, I have a hc that Jason is a picky eater. So he refuses to try pumpkin pie. Literally refuses, will not touch it "Peter only god knows what kind of spices they put in that thing" "But Jase if you just try it-" "NO...it smells funny". Fun fact, that's Peter's favourite pie, Jason gets him a slice for his birthday and a small cupcake for himself.

Ah fuck it here's a 4th ship

Mayla: i doubt this is a thing in france but...they go pumpkin picking. It takes them ages bcs Maya keeps pointing at the weirdest looking ones and Lola keeps dragging her gf over to the massive ones. Eventually they do pick one....safe to say they both have to carry it home bcs it is the biggest fucking thing with weird bumps all over it and the shape is... questionable. They name it and refuse to do anything with it for 24 hours bcs "guys...that's our bby"

Send a ship + word and I'll give you a hc

[sslasherss]

Sinclair Twins, Jason, the Leatherfaces as dads (all separate), but someone they're about to kill somehow gets away, gets into their home, but takes their little baby and is like "let me live and I'll give you the baby back" or someone thinks the baby has been kidnapped so they try to 'rescue' the baby. I read something similar to this years ago with a different fandom, and its low-key became my favorite thing lately.

Readmore bc it’s a long boi 😂😂

Bo

★ Hoo boy, Bo is gonna go fucking feral. He’s never been so terrified in his life and he hates the vulnerability, so he hides it with excess hostility and rage.

★ But they have his kid, and he can’t just kill them, not without risking his kid. So he panics, anger and fear rising until he can’t take it any more.

★ People rarely escape Bo, so when this particular man slips from his grasp, he’s furious. He charges after him, bellowing threats - until the guy somehow loses him.

★ He wanders the house searching, growing increasingly uncomfortable. He’s alerted to something wrong when he hears his kid crying, their bedroom door open. Fear strikes him as he charges in, ready to murder the man for daring to go near his child -

★ There’s a knife to his child’s neck. Instantly he freezes, the man’s threats falling on deaf ears. How dare they.

★ He lets this one go, for the sake of his child. No one’s ever gotten away from  Bo Sinclair, but he’s too relieved to care, rushing to hug his kid.

★ Downstairs, Vincent lurking in wait. No one hurts his niece/nephew. The man doesn’t make it out alive after all.

Vincent 

★ He thought he tied them up properly, thought it was fine to leave one person while he worked on another. But somehow she broke through her restraints and slinked off without his notice.

★ Of course he panics. What if she finds a way out? What if she alerts the authorities? Possibilities run through his mind, each one worst than the last.

★ He never expects to see his victim, a young woman, tugging his kid to her chest, ignoring their squeals of protest. What he hell is she doing, touching his kid?

★ Yet when he storms over, the woman isn’t afraid for herself. She clings to his kid, as if fearful they might disappear. “Leave this child alone,” she screams, “why would you hurt a baby?”

★ He’s stunned. Then it clicks; she doesn’t know the child is his. His anger dissipates, but only briefly. Suddenly the woman is running again, still clutching his child. Vincent pursues.

★ Eventually his child squirms from her grasp, desperately fighting her, and the two tumble to the ground. Then the kid runs to him, shouting for their daddy, and Vincent scoops them up.

★ The woman doesn’t get it, of course. But she never has time to think about the weird family - Vincent doesn’t let her live long enough.

Jason

★ People avoid the lake now, so maybe having a kid let Jason get soft. His patrols become shorter, and he stops worrying about people on his turf.

★ Until his son goes missing one day. Jason searches for an hour, further and further from the safety of his cabin. Then he hears it; crying. Relief floods him as he rushes to his son - only to see him being tugged along by a man. 

★ Oh, he’s angry all right. Who’s trying to kidnap his kid? He storms over, knife clenched in a white knuckle grip. The man turns, fear and recognition sparking in his eyes. Everyone knows what lurks in Camp Crystal Lake.

★ But Jason only sees his son. He’s so gentle as he gathers his son in his arms, careful hands brushing through his hair. But the expression he shoots the man through his mask is terrible.

★ Yet he still has enough bravery to ask, “so you kidnap children now too?”

★ Kidnap…? Oh. Of course, no one would imagine the Crystal Lake killer could have a child, let alone know how to care for one. Jason draws up to his full height, gently pushing his son behind him, and raises the machete.

★ No one messes with his family.

Bubba

★ In the chaos, Bubba loses a victim. It’s happened before, no big deal, and Drayton often deals with it. He doesn’t even care about the insults shot his way - he just wants to get this over with.

★ He finds the victim cowering in a barn, bleeding and crying. Bubba reaches for his chainsaw, hands poised to kill - until he sees his daughter emerge from the hay loft. 

★ She loves to play there, he should have considered it!

★ The victim’s eyes dance from Bubba to the girl - and in a flash they have her in their arms, blood smearing across his daughter’s pretty summer dress. She cries out, hands reaching for him, and he snaps.

★“Let me go, and I’ll give her back to you.

★Bubba freezes. They’d really do that? Hurt his child for the chance at freedom? Panic blooms in his chest, the chainsaw falling to his side with a great thud. He’s shaking. His daughter is pleading to be let go. It’s awful.

★ Finally the victim lets her go, and she runs to him. The two embrace, both sobbing and babbling incoherently. The victim takes their chance to run.

★ But they can’t let someone go. So Bubba regretfully lets go, whispering nonsense words of reassurance, and goes after them. 

★ The victim doesn’t last five minutes after that.  

Thomas

★ His son isn’t old enough to be involved in the ‘family business’, but bless him he wants to help. So for once, Thomas lets him tag along. As long as he promises not to get too close.

★ They hunt down a victim together; a scrawny teenager with a busted leg. It doesn’t take long to catch him, and Thomas is so proud of his son for all the help.

★ But Thomas misjudges. He isn’t unconscious, only pretending, and as Thomas lugs him over one shoulder the boy breaks free. In a flash the boy is on his feet, grabbing blindly for anything to use as a weapon. When he comes up with nothing, he grabs Thomas’ son.

★“Help me,” the boy mutters, but his son only shrugs. This pisses him off, and before Thomas can react his son is being dragged backward by the hair. Thomas panics, immediately blaming himself for letting his son tag along.

★ But his son breaks free, snapping the man’s already injured leg with one well placed kick. Then Thomas storms forward, weapon raised as he unleashes all of his fear and rage.

★ They drag the body back together, and this time they make sure he’s dead.

[persephonescat]

Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons

Hiiii! This is… long. Probably the longest chapter I’m going to have, but it’s all only one scene and I just couldn’t cut it in half. Thank you for your comments! They make my whole week! Some of you pointed out a few mistakes in the last chapter, I hope it’s all good now! ^^ And please tell me if there are any weird sentences or typos or anything. Multiple people told me that the last chapter’s storm came very suddenly, so I re-read the sixth chapter and as it turns out, the sentence about the weather was lost in the editing. It all looked very dark and moody in my head, so I didn’t notice there was no description of it. Thank you for telling me, I’m definitely going to correct that.

(I think we should call this fic BaOSP in the future when we’re just talking about it in the comments or on Discord or just in general, bc this title is really long… The title and the tags will stay the same of course, it’s just that from now on, BaOSP is the official (???) shortened version of it.)

Damian meets Marinette, I REPEAT, DAMIAN MEETS MARINETTE.

Ch. 1    Previous    Masterpost    AO3 

________________

Ch. 8: Lord Annoyance

It was Monday night and Damian Wayne already hated the week.

Tim finally passed out on Saturday and did nothing but sleep all weekend, so on one hand, now he was capable of speaking in full sentences. On the other hand, all of his sentences were about the process of etching and nobody knew why, so it wasn’t any less problematic.

Dick came home with several holes in his shoe and refused to speak about it.

Jason didn’t eat anything but pork for a week straight and this morning he swore to go vegetarian.

Bruce was in the process of finding new hobbies - Tim said it was midlife crisis, Jason said the old man was finally going crazy and Cass was out of town, so she just yelled at them via video chat. Barbara and Steph laughing their asses off every time the topic came up didn’t help either, but after seeing the anvil in the living room while going to get breakfast, Damian was starting to agree with Jason.

On top of it all, some idiot under the name of Dark Nomad killed a chicken, painted obscene pictures on the walls of one of Bruce’s apartments with its blood, then for some reason, they stole some garden interior and part of the fence. Just fantastic.

And guess who had to track him down and arrest him? Robin. Because his family was a bunch of freaking sadists.

On top of it all, when he finally arrived on the rooftop where the petty villain was spotted two days in a row, the idiot wasn’t alone.

Robin landed quietly, hid behind a metal staircase leading the upper parts of the building and stopped to listen to the conversation going down between the two shadowy forms. He was already planning revenge in the back of his mind - it would’ve been ridiculously easy to poison at least two out of his three brothers. Not too badly but enough for them to have an unpleasant couple of days.

“Did you manage to sleep during the day, or should I be worried about you suddenly falling down from here because of exhaustion?” one of the forms asked flatly, a young girl sitting on the edge of the roof. She looked tiny compared to the Nomad sitting beside her, but she didn’t seem to be afraid at all. Her body language was taunting and open, her dark hair shimmered in the light coming from the streets below as she turned her head towards the boy. She had a slight French accent.

“Nah, I had double English in the afternoon, so I’m good,” the Nomad said, playing with a stray thread on his hoodie. “You?”

“I slept on the bus…” the girl started, trailing off. She tilted her head, concentrating on something. “Could you give me a minute?” she asked, standing up. For a moment, Damian felt relieved. She was already leaving.

Then she turned towards him.

She could’ve just heard something. She could’ve just checked out the area. It could’ve been a coincidence, but she was staring right at him, even though he was sure he wasn’t visible in the dark.

She walked towards his hiding place with no hesitation or fear. He was standing there motionlessly as she got closer. He studied her form, looking for weapons and weak points. She was wearing a warm cardigan with jeans and dark boots. He eyed her scarf and gloves suspiciously. It wasn’t that cold, but he didn’t see anything hidden in them.

Her red lipstick matched her scarf, her hair was tied into a loose braid coming forward at the side of her neck, dancing gracefully when a light breeze caught it. Her body language was still way too open and she foolishly grabbed the railing of the staircase before peeking behind it, leaving her torso even more vulnerable.

If he was ever planning on confronting her, he would’ve changed his mind after that. She was clearly harmless when it came to physical combat.

What the hell was she doing here, then?

“Can I help you?” she asked, looking at where his mask covered his eyes. Her voice was toneless and her accent was gone. Robin wondered if he was just imagining it earlier. Maybe he was too deep in his thoughts to pay attention.

It happened a lot nowadays. Him, getting lost in his thoughts and not paying attention. At first, it annoyed him - and scared the living daylight out of him, not as if he was about to tell that to anyone. Now he knew it was part of being human. It meant he was getting healthier, as Alfred put it. Making mistakes was part of life and he wanted to have a life, right?

Yes, he did.

Sometimes he looked at Bruce and his sorry brothers and realized that he already had a one. It made him feel weird. Happy, probably, but it was a new kind of happy. It made him want to smile at the most random times and help Alfred with chores. It made him have this… desire to go after Bruce when he disappeared to his garden to calm down, to bring home some donuts for Dick every time he passed that shop he liked, to take Jason to Disneyland on his birthday, to make Cass smile more often, to pull up the security footages from the Cave on his computer, so he could check on Tim without him knowing.

It was terrifying and he wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world.

“Robin?” the girl asked impatiently. Damn, he zoned out. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right thing to say.

“Errm… do you realize you are sitting with a criminal?” Good job, Damian, your brothers would be proud. Why not ask her her favorite color too, maybe that will help. He was prepared to hear Jason’s amused words through the comms, but surprisingly, his brother stayed quiet.

“Are you concerned about my safety?” The girl narrowed her eyes.

He straightened his back and cleared his mind.

“Actually, I’m here to arrest the Dark Nomad,” he told her, trying to sound professional. Not as if it mattered anymore.

“Why?”

“Damaging private property, theft, and vandalism.”

“Could you elaborate? Picking flowers in a park could be considered all three of those.” Her voice was mocking now.

Damian stared at her. She was at least a head shorter than him, with no weapons. He was Robin. She was either incredibly dangerous or very stupid, and he had a hard time believing in the first scenario.

“He killed an animal, draw obscene pictures on the street with its blood, did damage that’s repairing will take hundreds of dollars, stole garden interior… should I continue?”

“When did he do all that?” the girl asked. She didn’t seem surprised at all.

“Why would I tell you?” frowned Robin. “I’m here to arrest him, that’s the only important thing.” Harmless or not, she was getting annoying.

“Well, you can’t legally make arrests given that you’re not a police officer, which means that you have absolutely no reason to be here. You might as well go home,” she explained simply. Her voice was toneless again, she spoke as if she was just stating facts, - which she did, after all.

Damian’s blood was starting to boil. Did the psychopaths roaming this city have a right to murder people? No. Did they have any right to hurt civilians? No. Was any of the things they did legal? No.

Who was this kid to come and tell him about rights, when his family seemed to be the only ones protecting them?

The girl was looking at him as if she was staring into his soul, then suddenly, she smirked.

“Not as if that would stop you,” she said, and Robin looked at her quizzically. “But I have a feeling that you’re after the wrong guy, so if you told me when he did all that, it would clear a few things.”

He was lost. What did this girl want? She was too weird to be stupid. She let the railing go now and was standing with her arms at her sides, her head slightly tilted.

“Today, between two and three AM,” he told her finally, curious about her reaction.

She stared right into his eyes, even though his mask was hiding them and said, “He was with me.”

Robin didn’t see anything about her body language betraying her, but she must’ve noticed he didn’t believe her because she continued.

“We were talking about Tamás Vekerdy and Bruno Bettelheim. They’re psychologists who often write about children. He arrived around midnight, and when he left it was already past five in the morning, so there is no way he could’ve done anything unless he has an evil twin.”

He scoffed angrily. When he spoke again, he was hissing the words from behind his clenched teeth.

“These things don’t take long. He might’ve just slipped away for a few minutes and came back, unless of course if you were in the same position for five hours.” He might’ve also growled a little. He was standing only inches from her now, looming over her.

“That’s not too hard to check, your Highness.” She cocked her head and held his gaze fearlessly. “Where did all this happen?”

He was about to bite back but he stopped abruptly.

Okay, so he might’ve been a little wrong. If the girl was telling the truth, the guy should’ve disappeared for at least one and a half hours to get to the scene from here. Not as if that meant anything, she could’ve easily lied. He just didn’t notice it.

A voice saved him from having to answer.

“Marinette? Is everything okay?” The Dark Nomad was walking towards them. When he noticed Robin, a terrified expression took over his confused one. He was about to go and stand between the girl and the vigilante when she lifted her arm to stop him, not moving her gaze away from Robin. The Nomad looked like a caged animal but didn’t try to fight her.

“Lord Annoyance here states that last night, you cloned yourself between The Book of Diaries and NurtureShock, and went to draw booties and steal a bunch of garden gnomes.”

The Nomad opened his mouth to say something but Robin beat him to it.

“Okay, so first of all, it wasn’t just "booties” and they were drawn with blood, which makes it considerably worse.“ Jason, who was listening to everything he said trough the comms the whole time, chose that moment to burst out laughing. He did his best to ignore him.

"Second of all, a lot of things were stolen, not just…” yep, that sentence was a bad idea, “Garden gnomes.”

“Why do you think he did it in the first place?” the girl, - Marinette cut back.

“It was private property. There was a camera.”

“Whose?”

He took a second to consider the possible fallback of the answer. The existence of Bruce Wayne wasn’t a secret. Neither was the fact that he owned multiple buildings around the city. Maybe it was going to scare the villain enough that he confesses.

“Bruce Wayne’s,” he said finally. The girl’s undisturbed expression made him feel uneasy. “Have you heard of him?”

“Oh, you mean that’s who the big ass tower in the middle of the city is named after? I thought it was the ship name of watery rain or way of pain or something.” Her words were dripping from sarcasm.

‘Who are you talking to? What did they say?’ asked Jason like an excited child but Damian once again ignored him.

“Well, I’m sorry, but his alibi is pretty shaky, you know. Villains can be very convincing here, in case you didn’t notice.” He didn’t think this guy could convince anyone, but it was possible.

“Yeah, his ski mask really makes me shake in fear,” Marinette said flatly.

The villain finally got a chance to say something but his moment didn’t last long.

“It’s not a-”

“Yes, it is. Shut up.” Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose. “He is wearing a hoodie and a mask ever since… birth, probably. How did anyone recognize him?”

“He left his signature,” Robin told her. He wasn’t even angry anymore, he was just very annoyed.

Marinette froze. She almost seemed to forget about Robin as she finally broke eye contact and turned around.

“You… have a signature?” she asked the Dark Nomad, who was still standing behind her, ready to jump at any moment.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. It reminded Robin of a distressed duck.

“Kinda,” he said quietly.

“Why would you do that?” asked Marinette, gesticulating wildly.

“It’s part of the aesthetic, okay?” he explained with a hurt expression.

“Hey, I’m accusing you of a crime here!” reminded them Robin. This was taking way longer than he wanted it to.

Marinette once again turned to him, let out a deep breath and arranged her face into a more professional expression.

Finally.

“Right,” she started seriously. She gave him a second to compose himself, then continued. “Boobs.”

The Dark Nomad snorted, but Marinette just gave him an unimpressed look and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, so tell Mr. Wayne, that he should be looking for another idiot because I was looking after this one at the time.”

Before he could answer, he heard Jason’s voice in his ear.

'There is a robbery going down at Chucko’s. I’m going in.’

Damian cursed quietly.

“Don’t. Wait for me. I’ll be there in two,” he told him, placing his fingers on the comm so the two people standing in front of him knew he wasn’t speaking to them.

“I have to go,” he told them quickly, then took off before they could do as much as blink.

***

Marinette ran after the vigilante but stopped at the edge of the roof. She saw a dark form jumping over rooftops. After a few seconds, it disappeared and relief rushed over her body.

She was way too tired to think about how she just got into an argument with one of Gotham’s heroes.

She closed her eyes and turned to go back to her room. She needed to sleep. A lot.

“You’re kinda terrifying when you’re sleep-deprived, did you know that?” said Jeremy, coming out from behind the metal staircase.

“I always am,” answered Marinette, still not opening her eyes.

“Do you mean terrifying or sleep-deprived?” asked Jeremy confusedly.

Marinette gave him a small wave, then climbed back to the hotel without a word.

________________

*Quiet chanting* comments, comments, comments

*Chanting intensifies* comMEnts, COMments, coMMENTS

*Thunder*

*The flattering of wings and the sounds of scared birds*

*Chanting* COMMENTS, COMMENTS, COMMENTS, COMMENTS

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[singtheskyandfightlikehell]

...so this is (hopefully) my last original post on this topic bc unless i see a take shittier than any i’ve already seen, i’m gonna take my own advice and shift my political focus to union and grassroots efforts. Anyway:

Electoral politics are less impactful than union efforts ffs the general election has a set number of outcomes and they're all predictable and they all suck for the working classes can any wannabe socialists please educate themselves on American imperialism and also the effectiveness of unions instead of posting about the general election? Bc both those issues are more important towards an actual revolution of the working classes than any mind bending hypocritical defense of Biden or Harris you could give me.

I fucking swear if there's one statement I'm sick of by now it's that "well unless you can figure out a revolution before November, you better start simping for Biden, honey"

This isn't a new sentiment, motherfucker. You and everyone's mother and even dumbass little old freshly minted voter me was saying it four years ago. And yeah, there wasn't a revolution before 2016 November. But you know what else there wasn't? A revolution in the four years since. And you know what else there won't be? A revolution in the next four years (definitely not under Biden, probably not under Trump).

It's almost like the American military, a military designed for global imperialism, a military which commits human rights violations on the regular while the UN does fuck all, accompanied by a militarized police force, is too armed to be taken out by citizens.

Now the people who make this statement typically believe that the REAL way to enact change is from within, via voting. Voting can, theoretically, do a lot to give people power. In practice, it can still do a little. Personally, I support voting because it's just one more piece of red tape for the elites to deal with. We will never be allowed to vote a socialist in as president in the United States. But we could maybe vaguely irritate and waste the time of the elites who will maintain power regardless. For a good rundown on all the ways we can’t enact real change, I’d recommend checking out the end of Malcolm Harris’ Kids These Days: The Making of Millennials

And fuck it, sure, vote Biden. Just as long as you don't become a doormat in the process. Biden is a small step right while Trump is a giant leap right and there are arguments for why Biden is better. But those arguments are not "but he's not Trump" (see Žižek on Marine Le Pen) and they are not "but he's an inch to left and if we keep inching left we'll reach socialism eventually" and they are not "Biden will allow America to be imperial but like in a nice way". They can be "we can pressure him a bit left" BUT only if you don't preface that with "oh please Mr Biden step on my face if it means getting rid of Trump you could literally kill my wife and I'd still vote for you" bc idk if you know this but saying that is also called surrendering your ability to pressure a politician.

At the local level, we can enact small changes that will NEVER add up to real structural change, but they can still help a few people here and there and really that's enough for me to put an afternoon into voting. It's like charity. No amount of charitable donations will end global poverty (see Jason Hickel’s The Divide), but the donations that actually get to people do make a difference, just at the individual level. (Or how neither tipping nor not tipping will fix the shitty system of underpaid wait staff, but at least with a tip the individual worker gets paid).

America, regardless of its leader, is too powerful, too imperial, and fundamentally cannot and will not exist in a world where the material stability of any and all persons is an expected right. If we lived in an easier world, the entire (yes the entire) American government could be thrown back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. Unfortunately, we cannot do this.

Anyway this is all a very long and complicated way of saying that 1: the federal government is too big and holds too much power to exist, idc how left-wing the top dog is (not that they'll ever be particularly left-wing); 2: there will very likely not be a successful revolution in the traditional sense of the word (though if there is all you blue no matter who pseudo socialist fucks had better be out there supporting it); 3: unions can help to dismantle concentrations of power in the government and will do more towards a revolution than calling people Russian ever will; 4: so will educating yourself on America's imperialism, human rights violations, and exploitation of the global south

If you're giving leftists phrases like "I'm a socialist but" or "I don't see this magical revolution that needs to happen before November", then here's a statement for you to mull over: six months of simping for Biden online will do less to effect real progressive change than a single afternoon spent helping unions