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#batman x reader
howlingwolfqueen · 23 minutes ago
You cannot sit there and tell me thet Jason and Bruce do not have mommy milkers. I REFUSE FOR PEOPLE TO DENY ME THIS.
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superhero--imagines · 2 hours ago
What kinda stuff do you guys want to see? In terms of fics and stuff in my store? RN I’m thinking of adding a “care package from Molly Weasley”
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dccomicsimagines · 3 hours ago
What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Bonus Part Nine.Five
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Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content
Part One   Part Two  Part Three   Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Six.Five  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten   Part Eleven
Requested by Anon - Hey! Uh... Can i request a one-shot from dick's P.O.V. from what's lost is found when he realise (y/n) is not in the mansion/found (y/n)'s note about handing themself to the fake bane? I'd really love to see slight angst of panicked dick worrying about his kid.(sorry not sorry dick)🤣
Author’s Note - Sorry this took so long, but I was working on other things before diving back into the What’s Lost is Found universe. ;) 
The warmth from the sunlamp soaked into Dick as he sat in the ICU area of the cave. Kori hadn’t woken up yet. She laid on the bed directly under the lamp, taking the full blast from it. Her baby bump clearly visible under the sheet. He stared at the heart monitors, both heartbeats were strong. Why wouldn’t she wake up?
Dick buried his face in his hands. His body ached. The pills Alfred slipped him must have wore off. 
He frowned when he heard the arguments coming from the meeting room in the cave. They were planning their next move to deal with siege on Gotham. Dick knew he should be in there with them, but there wasn’t any point. He was going to take his family home where it was safe. 
Dropping his hands, he looked back at Kori. His stomach twisted in knots.
He tensed at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. However, he relaxed when he felt your presence by his side. “Hey kiddo,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you. You leaned into him. Dick’s heart glowed. At least you were safe. His hand rubbed your side gently.
“Is she okay?” You trembled in his grasp. Your words stabbed at Dick’s heart. Tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. You were so young. Too young for all of this. 
“Her vitals and the baby’s are good, but she hasn’t woken up.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing when his shoulder flared in pain. Damn, maybe he should have taken another dose of pain meds. You shifted in his grasp. He glanced up to see your lips pursed, eyes downcast. “This isn’t your fault, honey. I don’t want to hear that from you.” Your eyes watered. Dick kissed your cheek, the father instinct in him taking over.  “I didn’t want you to be part of this.”
You tensed. Dick saw the anger flash in your eyes, but you didn’t snap at him. His arms ached to hold you, to comfort you and himself at the same time. He hesitated a moment before pulling you to sit in his lap. You relaxed into his hold much to his relief.  “Shouldn’t you be with the others?” you asked.
“No.” Dick squeezed his arms around you. Gathering his courage, he spoke his next words carefully. “We’re not going to be here for much longer.”
“What?!” you gasped. Dick sighed. He knew you would react this way. Your jaw dropped, staring at him with those big eyes in disbelief. You looked so much like Bruce in that moment. Dick remembered getting a similar look from Bruce when he swung off the chandelier for the first time. 
“We’re leaving, going home.” Dick frowned when you pulled away from him. His arms reached out to try to keep you close. “Don’t fight me on this, sweetheart.” Dick’s heart broke into a million pieces. He had to keep you, Kori, and the baby safe. Why couldn’t you just understand for once? Why did you always have to fight?
“We can’t leave.” Your voice cracked. Dick saw your hands trembling. He wanted to reach out to hold them still, but you would just run away from him.  “I caused this. I can’t leave them to deal with this. Tim already hates me, Damian too. I can’t do this to them.”
Something inside Dick snapped. He felt a cold, raw anger build inside his chest.  “I’m not arguing with you on this. We’re going home.” Your eyes widened in shock. Color drained out of your face. Dick caught himself. The anger evaporated. He softened his tone. “I have more to lose now.” Without a thought, he reached out to pat your arm. You flinched away from him. Dick jerked like you tore his heart out. “(Y/N).” You left the room so fast, you were gone in a blink of an eye. 
A plug released from inside of him and Dick sobbed in a way he hadn’t since his parents died. Completely broken. Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t be selfish and whisk his family away when Gotham needed all hands on deck. The others were his family too. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to them.
Time passed and Dick slowly collected himself. Kori hadn’t stirred. He went over to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. I’m going to talk to (Y/N).” He waited a moment for any sign from Kori. However, she didn’t move. “Please wake up soon.” He kissed her again before pulling himself away. 
The raised voices from the meeting room echoed through the cave. Lois was talking to Alfred in the corner as Alfred was setting up sandwiches and drinks for everyone. “Do you know where (Y/N) went?” Jon asked Dick shyly, appearing beside him. Dick frowned. His eyes narrowed. Jon flinched.
“No.” Dick crossed his arms. “What you did was so irresponsible. I trusted you to keep (Y/N) out of this and safe.” 
“I know.” Jon bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I already got the full lecture from Mom, Dad, Alfred, Jason, and Damian.” He looked Dick in the eye rather bravely. Dick found himself respecting Jon just a little bit more. “I’m sorry.”
Dick cleared his throat. “I suppose I can overlook it. I’d imagine (Y/N) would have came anyway, no matter if you brought them or not.” He glanced around the cave. “You haven’t seen (Y/N)?”
“No, not since Alfred changed their bandages.” Jon tensed, following Dick’s gaze. 
“I’ll check upstairs while you look around here.” Dick jogged to the steps and headed up. He heard Jon zooming off to search the lesser used areas of the cave. Dick’s heart was in his throat. Please don’t let anything happen to (Y/N). Please don’t let (Y/N) do something foolish and dangerous.
He couldn’t shake the sense of dread settling in the bottom of his stomach. Bursting through the clock entrance into Bruce’s study, his blood ran cold when he saw notes for everyone on the desk. They were all in your handwriting.
“No, no, no, no.” Dick grabbed the note with his name on it and opened his. His eyes came across ‘I’m sorry’ before he crumbled it in his hand. “Damn it, (Y/N).” He was about to rush back down to the cave when a terrible sound echoed from it. Dick paused. “Damian?” It couldn’t have been Damian. Damian never sounded like that before. 
Dick rushed down the stairs, almost tripping to find Damian on his knees in front of the batcomputer. The others were gathered around, watching in horror. Footage from outside Wayne Tower was playing live. You were in the Bane lookalike’s arms, limp. Dick’s mouth went dry as he watched the Bane lookalike toss you into a waiting vehicle. 
“We have to stop him.” Damian was on his feet, racing toward the batmobile like a dehydrated man seeing water for the first time. 
“Stop. You won’t get there in time.” Tim grabbed at Damian’s arm to stop him. Damian snarled, slamming his fist into Tim’s jaw to knock him back.
“That’s my sibling.” Damian started toward the batmobile again. Jason tackled him to the ground. The terrible sound came from Damian again as he fought with Jason desperately to get to the batmobile. “We can’t let them die. We can’t leave them.” 
Jason grunted as Damian’s elbow smashed into his stomach. “Stop it. You’re not thinking straight.”
Dick looked back at the screen. All the light in his life was sucked away in an instant. You were dead. There’s no way they would keep you alive. Dick closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands.
A hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up to meet Barbara’s eye. “We don’t know if they’re gone. Let’s not grieve until we do,” she whispered. Dick looked at the others. Jon Kent was hugging Lois tight, sobbing into her shoulder. Lois had tears in her eyes too. Jason and Damian were still wrestling on the ground with Damian slowly dragging them over to the batmobile. Alfred stared blankly at the screen in shock. Tim was on his knees, embracing Steph from where she collapsed. Cass and Duke appeared numb and held hands with each other. They slowly moved to Alfred’s side to comfort him. 
“Right.” Dick swallowed his grief. He allowed himself to have that little spark of hope in his chest. You were strong and the fact they didn’t kill you outright meant that they maybe had other plans. Besides, he was the oldest. He had to be the example. 
Barbara nodded over to Jason and Damian. “You better take care of that first. I’m going to try to track that vehicle.” Barbara went to the computer and started working. 
Dick took a deep breath. “Cass, Duke, get ready to go out there as soon as Babs has information for you.” They nodded, running off to get dressed.
“Fuck! Get off me, you idiotic street rat.” Damian suddenly broke away from Jason and scrambled to his feet. “I will not be the last Wayne!” He panted, glancing at the computer before swiftly kicking Jason in the side. “You wasted my time! (Y/N) could be dead by now!”
“Damian!” Dick rushed over, stepping between Jason and Damian. Jason groaned, holding his side. “Calm down! This is not going to help (Y/N).” Damian’s glare darkened. Dick rested his hands on Damian’s shoulders, tensing in case Damian exploded again. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Dami, I know you’re scared for (Y/N). I’m terrified for them too, but lashing out isn’t going to help us get them back.” 
Damian took a shaky breath. He closed his eyes. “I can’t be the last Wayne.” Dick’s stomach dropped to his feet. His fear threatened to take over, but he held it off. He had to be strong for Damian, for the others. 
“You aren’t.” Dick pulled Damian into his arms. Damian went limp, his knees giving out. Dick fell with him, ignoring the wetness on his shirt as Damian hid his face into Dick’s shoulder. “(Y/N) is still alive. We know that. We’ll find them and bring them back home.” Dick rested his chin on Damian’s head. His own tears fell down his cheeks. “I swear we’ll find them.” He rocked Damian back and forth.
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I was re-reading 'in times past' and I wanted to ask: does reader and bruce continue with their relationship after the end? do they actually end up married (like it was kinda suggested in the last portion of the fic)? what happens in the future for them?
In Times Past — One Shot
They do actually end up married. The next day, they were across every tabloid. Everyone in Gotham - and pretty much the world - knew about their engagement.
What no one expected was how long they would be engaged. Bruce thought he was doing Y/N a favor by getting noisy people off her back about finding a man and all that.
But once their engagement was “announced,” all that badgering just turned into people nagging them about the wedding. Which to Y/N was so, so, so much worse. 😑
They basically stay engaged for two years. Neither of them wanted to rush into anything. They basically just...dated.
Much to the dismay of Gotham, Y/N and Bruce secretly eloped. There was no extravagant wedding. There was no announcement. Nothing.
The only people in attendance? A 9-year-old Dick Grayson, Alfred, and Y/N’s parents (who were not informed of what was going on until they arrived at Wayne Manor.)
[Dick became a part of their lives a year or so after Y/N and Bruce got engaged.]
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ruddyswojtyla · 5 hours ago
Hey Guys Thanks so much for like my stories. If you want me to write or create a moodboard for you. Just DM here or in Instagram @ruddyswojtyla.
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ruddyswojtyla · 5 hours ago
Being the twin sister of Damian Wayne and dating Garfield Logan
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Ever since Dick took Damian and you to meet the Teen Titans, you started to have feelings towards a green skin boy.
You loved the way he shifted to any animal you ask for.
But since you found out he has a crush on a girl named Terra who is a metahuman, you stop talking and hanging out with him.
He noticed what was happening between you and him but decided to allow you to have space.
You and Damian always train together but you were taught to use bow and arrows. You were Known as Killingjay. People would be scared of you because they wouldn’t see and hear you shooting your arrows.
One day you were training, when you didn’t notice BB came inside the training room.
“y/n. What is happening between us?”, he asked in a sad tone
“Nothing. I just need time.”, I said in a bitter tone.
He got angry and started his training and turned to all kinds of dangerous animals. When he cooled down he turned back to his normal self.
“Umm.. Gar. You’re naked.”, I said while looking at the wall with my face heated up.
“Opps. I should grab my clothes, sorry!”, He said while laughing.
Then he came back and suddenly he grabbed my neck and kissed me with so much force and passione that I was frozen but I started kissing him back.
“Be mine.”
“Always and Forever.”
I told Damian and let's say he was hunting a deer for dinner.
But in the end Damian and Garfield are like brothers now
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hewie2 · 9 hours ago
Save me
Two fanfics with my guys Dick Grayson and Jason Todd
Dick Grayson x female reader
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There was a news report coming up everywhere about an Earthquake warning, it was a 6.5 which was worrying. Especially for those who were in a building.
Dick grabbed you as he heard the rumbling about 20 minutes later, you were worried just by the look on his face.
'Here, gotta stay under here' Dick said as he pulled you under the table to crouch with him.
You held onto Dick as he put his arms around you and cradled you to keep you safe, you dug your fingers into his shirt sleeves as Dick whispered in your ear. Whispering telling you it'll be OK.
'We're gonna be fine, it'll be over soon' he reassured you.
Time seemed to stand still for those 3 minutes, the ceilings cracked, furniture fell over. Things fell off your tables and cabinets, smashing. The rumbling of the ground made your heart race. Pictures fell, the door cracked and almost came off the hinges.
It was over, safe to come back up and look around at the damage, sirens going off in the background.
Dick held your hand as he looked at you,
'We need to go outside before the aftershock hits, not safe in here with the roof coming in like that' he said as he lead you a safe way outside.
You stood in the street and watched people crowded round as they were being checked by paramedics. Dick cupped your face in his hands and gave you kiss. He noticed a small knock on your head as blood started to come from your head and nose.
'You're bleeding, babe you need to get checked' he said as he called over a a paramedic to check you.
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Jason Todd x female reader
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There was no warning and it hit to quick for anyone to do anything on reflex, but luckily you were near a secure shelter that would keep you as safe as possible, or at least alive.
The Tornado siren came on as the wind picked up, Jason slammed his brakes on his motorbike looking ahead, seeing the f4 travelling towards the city streets.
'Fuck, doll come on' Jason said as he revved his bike back up and sped towards an old warehouse that was brick and secure. A few other people had the right idea as they ran to it too. Sheltering inside.
Jason held your hand tight as he turned his bike off and ran with you to the warehouse, going inside.
'Come on, come on quickly' you shouted to some people running behind you, they made it in safely and you slammed the door shit, locking it. Running to Jason's arms.
The wind howled, the tornado growled, you could feel the force of it just outside. Picking the front part of the roof up the wind got strong. Then things rattled, blew over and started lifting.
'Hold onto something' Jason shouted as it picked up more, the ground cracked a tiny bit from the force. Jason held you as the shelves started tipping. Jason cradled you, with him on top to keep you unharmed.
'We need to move, this place is gonna collapse on us' a man shouted, as you all moved slowly to the left side, a walkway came down.
'Y/n, look out' Jason shouted in a panic as the walkway came onto you, you let out a scream. Jason grabbed you and stayed with you until the tornado went.
The winds calmed down and everyone was fine, Jason had adrenaline in his system getting this walkway off you, you were alive just unconscious.
'Y/n, doll wake up' Jason said nearly in tears with fear, sadness and panic in his voice all at once.
The ambulances came to the scene, they were greeted with Jason running out carrying you in a fireman's lift toward them.
'Please, help her' Jason cried, the paramedics took you and checked you over. You eventually woke up.
It was good news, you were ok and didn't have too much damage done. You had a concussion and a few broken ribs. Apart from that you were OK. Jason kept kissing you all over the face, hugging you and asking if you were OK, you were just glad it was all over. Glad he was with you.
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meshlasolus · 13 hours ago
Cruel Irony
Bale!Bruce Wayne x Reader
I'm gonna start rewriting a steve rogers fic I wrote a while back before my old blog was deleted. Back then it was called captain but I'm probably gonna rename it. Anyways carry on.
Series Summary: Growing up on infinity Island, Moyra is taught very well in the art of assassination. As the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, she sits highly amongst the brotherhood known as the League of Shadows. When her father orders her to lure a stranger from the outside to be recruited amongst the mysterious clan, she will question everything she's ever believed.
Chapter Warnings: mentions of sex (no smut) angst, mad moyra??
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The day that Alfred suggested that Bruce should start acting more like a regular billionaire, in the stereotypical sense at least, was the day I began to get jealous for the first time. He'd been taking different women out recently, and last evening he decided to take a woman out to a fancy dinner, bringing her home with him after.
I was too petrified to leave my room for the sounds I heard coming from his. Bruce Wayne was sleeping with a movie star in the room across from mine, and it made my blood boil.
I had no right to be jealous, or even upset. He wasn't in any position to be holding back in his love life, especially not for my sake. Neither of us had any obligations such as that, but of course I knew I wouldn't pursue any romantic advances to any other man. I was enthralled with the man I lived with, but I hadn't expressed anything to him, so why should I have any right to lay a claim over him.
I couldn't really sleep that night, for even after the loud whimpers and pathetic squeals from his partner had stopped, my mind raced with the fact that he was now laying side by side with someone he didn't even care about, the same way he laid with me some nights. I hadn't known if he felt anything for me, but even if he did, I wasn't in that room right now.
I know that Alfred meant well when he suggested to Bruce that he should begin to pursue a life that would avoid suspicion, but I secretly despised his efforts. I could not find it in my heart to be truly angry at Alfred, he'd only ever shown me kindness. I was just unhappy with his words.
When the alarm on my clock went off, I looked over to see the usual morning time of eight o'clock AM. I was very happy to get out of bed and busy myself getting ready for work, instead of laying in bed any longer, not being able to sleep and simply thinking of the events across the hall.
I pulled myself from the sheets, feeling a bit weaker than usual due to the lack of sleep. I shook it off and headed to my bathroom, deciding that I wouldn't look in the mirror right away. I already knew I hadn't slept, I didn't need to see the evidence of it.
I did my morning routine the best I could, trying not to fall over while doing so. I nearly fell asleep on the toilet, not that anyone needs to know that part. I barely was able to put on enough makeup to look presentable, but I needed to get finished as soon as possible. The sooner I got downstairs to the coffee, the sooner I would be able to function like an actual human being.
I was not in the mood to do my hair the way I'd learned how to for this job. I pulled it back into a hairtie and heaved a sigh in the mirror. Even under the concealer, the dark bags under my eyes could easily be seen.
I went out to the hall, hearing a faint giggle, signifying that the love birds were awake. I did not lag my steps, scared of the chance that I might run into one of them in the hallway. I couldn't even imagine having to face Bruce later and tell him of my predicament.
I carefully made my way down the stairs, accidentally tripping on the last step and falling against the railing, gripping it for dear life. I stood back up and composed myself. I was getting more annoyed at this point, simply because there was a reason for my lack of sleep, and it was still upstairs probably being smothered by it's one night conquest.
I went into the kitchen, heaving myself up onto a barstool by the counter. The kitchen was quiet and serene, and before I could even convince myself to stand up and make a pot of coffee, my face began to lean foward to the countertop in a haze.
"Good morning, miss Moyra." Alfred appeared into the room with a sweet smile on his face. If there was one thing I always appreciated in the morning it was how chipper he was.
"I wish it were, Alfred. I wish it were." I nearly collapsed again, so I just placed my elbow up and let my face fall to my hand instead.
"I'm sorry to hear it, how did you sleep?" He asked, taking my exhaustion as a queue to make the pot of coffee and help me to wake up a little.
"I didn't." I said shortly, and with annoyance. I wasn't annoyed with him, but I couldn't help but take it out on the only person I'd seen today.
"Oh, I see." Alfred immediately knew what the problem was. This hadn't ever happened before, which meant the only thing out of place in the situation was what Bruce did last night.
"Yup." I said, taking the coffee mug from Alfred with a grateful smile. I thanked him quietly and he nodded.
I took a few sips and began to feel better. The caffeine was doing it's job, but I was probably going to need to either drink more coffee periodically through the day to get by, or leave work a little early to come home and rest.
As if the morning couldn't get any worse, Alfred turned and smiled towards the door, making me spin around. I nearly spit my coffee onto the floor.
"Hello there." Alfred greeted the gorgeous brunette, her blue eyes shining like diamonds in a mine. She was only a bit shorter than me, with the figure of an hourglass. Her appearance caught my eye for a moment, but her attire was what I now focused on. The most minuscule pair of shorts I had ever seen, along with a shirt I'd seen one too many times. I'd actually worn it the first day I arrived here. Bruce's shirt.
I raised an eyebrow as she approached us further into the kitchen, comming to sit on the stool by mine.
"Hi." I said, dragging out the I. I took a long sip of coffee, preparing myself for an awkward conversation.
"Morning, miss." Alfred said to her, but this time when the words came out the smile wasn't as genuine as earlier. He was anything if not polite, but even I could tell he was faking it.
"Good morning, I hope I'm not being a bother." She said with her bright smile. She looked too dimwitted to notice the tension in the room, for she seemed to be perfectly comfortable.
"Not at all." I told her with a fake smile of my own, she seemed to not know the difference and nodded. Alfred brought her a cup of coffee as well. "Not anymore at least..." I mumbled into my coffee cup. Alfred heard me, and while his back was turned, he smirked, but the beautiful girl didn't take notice of my words. I'm not sure she heard them.
"How'd you sleep, miss?" Alfred kept the conversation going, fearful that my somewhat sarcastic nature might take things overboard if I was given the chance.
"I slept wonderful, thank you." She replied, to which I chuckled a little.
"I bet you did." I said suggestively, my face staring straight on to the refrigerator in waiting of how she would respond.
Alfred shot me a playful but narrow look that said 'watch it' and I knew that perhaps I should stop my antics.
"What was that?" She said sweetly, she must not have heard me. I just raised my eye brows and turned back to her.
"Oh I just said I'm glad you slept well."
She smiled again and leaned over in her seat. She finished her coffee then set the cup back down on the counter before grabbing the bag she'd set down that I somehow had missed.
Alfred dismissed himself from the room, claiming he had something to attend to. I knew right away that he meant he was going to go chastise Bruce, but our guest here didn't need to know that.
"So, you live here?" She turned and asked me.
"Yeah, I actually moved in a little after Bruce got back." I lied, knowing that I was supposed to tell a certain story to avoid suspicion in the city.
"Oh. Are you his-?" She asked, traling off so that I would fill in the blank.
"Old friend... I've known him for years since before I moved to Gotham." I said, something about the word friend didn't sit right with me, but I wasn't going to hash that out with Bruce's one night stand.
"I see. You must know him really well, then." She said with a shy voice, scooting her stool closer next to mine. I wasn't sure why, but I kept calm and answered her.
"Absolutely, I do." I said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Whatever she was about to ask, I already had an answer. I was pretty confident that I knew what she was up to.
"Do you think you could tell me what he likes in a woman?"
Bingo. Let the games begin. Alfred had left the room, so now he couldn't give me any looks to stop me from my mischief. My smirk broadened into a fake, manipulative smile, and I could feel in my bones the havoc I was about to wreak. I just couldn't help myself.
"You know, I'll be honest. Bruce is usually into blondes..." I paused, seeing the look on her face change into one of not only surprise, but a bit of disappointment. "Chubby ones." I added.
"Oh." She sat back into her seat from her leaned position, and I needed to look away in order to keep a straight face.
"Yeah... that's why I was, well.... surprised when I saw you walk in. Bruce doesn't usually skew towards such beautiful women." I commented, seeing her face twist from disappointment to confusion. She looked as if he didn't understand.
"So he does like me, then?" She asked, and I had to hide my smirk with my coffee cup when she looked right at me.
"Oh I'm not sure about that. With Bruce it's hard to tell, but I'll give you some advice. If you play hard to get, and I mean really hard to get.... he'll show more interest." I was not only about to exact revenge on her, but also on Bruce. If you keep me from sleep, then you better watch out. I am a force to be reckoned with.
"Really?" Her eyes lit up. She probably felt amazed that she had a chance with Bruce Wayne. I knew she didn't, but I felt the need for evil this morning, so I nodded and continued.
"Oh yeah. In fact, when he comes in here, you should slap him and leave dramatically. That will definitely catch his attention. He'll be thinking of you all day." I said matter of factly, with my facial expressions doing their job to fillt convince her.
"Slap him? Not too hard though, right? Or is he into that?" I nearly choked on my coffee at that last remark, but it would work to my advantage if I used it.
"Oh he loves it. Use which ever hand is strongest." I added, taking another sip from my drink to hide my smug grin.
"Thank you so much, I bet Bruce is lucky to have a friend like you around." She said, standing up with a smile.
"Oh, you have no idea." My smile was broad and genuine now, as I watched Alfred approach the room. Bruce seemed to be trailing behind. Oh joy.
"Miss, uh-" Alfred began, waiting for her correct title to be given.
"Ashley." She said sweetly.
"Miss Ashley, your cab has arrived." Alfred told her. The cab was here, thank God. I did not want to have to endure both her and Bruce before work.
"Thank you." She told him, before I saw Bruce finally make his appearance today. He glanced at me across the room and he already looked like he had guilt. He was about to be even more sorry.
Ashley stepped up to Bruce, looking at him for a moment before slapping him hard and turning to leave. She smiled and nodded at me and I gave her a nod and the 'ok' hand gesture before she was out the door and headed for the main entrance. I doubted I'd ever see her again and for that I would thank my lucky stars.
Alfred follwed her to let her out, and Bruce looked at me dumbfounded, as I held the biggest smile on my face.
"What was that about?" He asked, coming over and sitting down next to me. I didn't make eye contact with him. I was still mad at him, or at least partially.
"Sweet, sweet revenge." I replied. I was finally at the bottom of my giant coffee mug, after taking many small sips throughout the wonderful morning.
He felt guilty. Alfred had told him what he'd done and he felt horrible. Not only did he keep me up, but I was practically mortified at just hearing the sounds of Bruce and another girl going at it. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you're gonna be." I said, my bitterness still in my voice. I should probably lay off, since he and I had to patrol tonight for the first time. I didn't want to be fighting.
"I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Don't worry about it, now I have a get out of jail free card." I said, giving him a smile. I couldn't stay too mad at him. Not for long, anyway.
He leaned over and tried to hug me, but I hopped up from my stool, taking my mug to the sink and cringing.
"Wash your hands before you hug me, I don't know where they've been." I joked. He rolled his eyes, making a point to come up beside me by the sink. He washed his hands then shook the water off at me. I laughed and immediately all was forgiven. Too bad I was so gone for him, it made it hard for me to actually show him my anger.
"Come here." He held his arms out and I walked into him.
"This isn't gonna be a regular thing, is it?" I looked up at him, only lightly tilting my head to the side.
"No. Only every once and a while. I have to make it seem like it's happening every night, though. Can't have any nosy people getting suspicious. Even one conspiracy theory could blow this whole thing." He explained. I understood the reasoning for it, I just didn't like it. Too bad it wasn't my decision.
"Speaking of... I'm gonna probably come home from work early. I'll need a few hours more of sleep if I'm gonna pull off anything." I told him. The look of guilt crossed his face once more but he didn't want to bring the subject back up. He'd apologize in a better way later, probably with something more expensive.
"If you wanna stay home, then-"
"No. I'll be fine." I assured him. I backed away from his embrace, looking him up and down before I stepped towards the counter again. I glanced at the clock on the microwave, and sighed. "I've gotta go, I got a press conference at ten and I wanna get to the briefing before that."
"I'll see you." He muttered, watching as I rushed for the door that would lead to the garage.
"I'll see you." I smiled before leaving out of his sight.
Tags are open
@stardustednerd @huntheimpossible @testudies @zezeungormus
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marc-pewpew · 16 hours ago
Warnings:nothing really the reader is just a very smart mouth person
Tim Drake x reader
 Tim POV
‘Does she even know what she’s doing,god why didn’t she have to be on her phone in class it’s like she wants to be called on by the teacher’ he looks at Y/N as she walks down to the board, she acting like she know the answers.
Solve the problem
Man she doesn’t know answers
She started to solve the problems take this c-,well Ms.L/N i was not expecting you to know the answers you got all of them right
“I know”
Sit down Ms.L/N
‘Oo- that was such a relief’
“Hmm Tim Tim?”
‘Oh nothing,I was just talking out loud’
“I can tell your surprise to see I know the answers huh”
‘Yeah it was surprising for me and probably for Mrs.belladonna’
Ms.L/N Mr.Drake please be quiet
“Sorry uwha”
She looks back at him and starts smiling
‘Why are you so smiley today?’ He said as quite he could be”I’ve been having a good day I guess”
‘Hmm it’s my first time seeing you so happy’
Me and Y/N been dating for a while but i never seen her so smiley before,
“When we get back home can we watch a movie or play video games?”
‘Yeah,we can’ looking up from her to look at the clock ,
12 more minutes and will be home
Liking back at his paper
Class we will not be having homework as it the weekend and it’s a five day weekend as the police think there might be a attack from the League(is that how you spell it?) villains which will might damage some school property and will might be a traumatizing thing for students so everyone stay home until we email your parents about the attack on the school and let’s all pray that Batman comes and finally arrest them for all they have done to Gotham
“What if your atheist? do you still have to pray?”(not to offend people)
Ms.L/N can we not talk about religion
“You just started talking about religion though you literally said pray for the school”she started rolling her eyes
But being atheist is bad you worship the Devil
“ musinlonjaneun agma sungbaejaga anibnida”(Atheists are not demon worshipers, and let’s pretend you know Korean)
What Ms.L/N don’t understand you gibberish language
“Korean is not gibberish and I’m not a demon worshiper don’t believing in god and they don’t mean in going to hell so shut the fuck up you ugly ass Bitch”
Her glare man why is she so pretty
What Ms.L/N
“Nothing,if you didn’t hear me the
First time I’m not telling you again and if you get fired do look at me for be discriminative to a language, continue you’re stupid ass class”
‘Hmm did you mean to said that in korean?’
‘No filter Huh?’
“I guess” she shrugged her shoulders at me
Class is over remember that you don’t have school tomorrow and five days weekend,now bye students
Everyone got up and walks out the door to hall way including me and Y\N
‘Do we back up everyone today?’
“Mhm ,they outside already”
‘Okay,let’s start walking’
It’s was silent she wasn’t talking like she would be doing
“Yea Timmy?”
‘Why are you not talking?your silent now you we’re just talking in the class’
“Oh,I’m just thinking about what game we should play when we get home”
‘What video game have you been thinking about?’
“Don’t know yet,how about you?”
‘Uhh nothing yet too’
We started laughing at each other
“Oh hey hyoln”
Can we go now
“Shut up Damian”
‘Alfred is here’
After they all got home
“Come Tim Tim”
She pulls me to my room
“Let’s leave them all behide”
‘Ok,whatever you want’
I sit on the floor in front of the TV and turned it on
“can we Watch a movie I still can’t figure out what game we should play”.’yea it’s fine,what movie’ moving The remote to Netflix”
“Hmm”struggling her shoulders ‘damn,uhh how about this?’ Point at random one “sure”
Another one of my shit endings
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rick-rayson · 17 hours ago
a request pleasejonathan crane x reader, how would jonathan (and the batyfamily) react if jason falls in love with the reader, but the reader only wants her boyfriend jonathan
A/N: There are several versions of Scarecrows character, and most incarnations have him as an adult, the same applies to Jason so I'll be going with their older roles.
Also I wrote this in an indented style.
This is greatly rushed ngl, but I hope it still works!
WARNING(S): Minor arguing.
TAG(S): Slight Angst.
"How would the Batfamily react if Jason fell in love with Reader, but R only wants her boyfriend, Jonathan Crane."
➯ Jason loved you dearly, so much so that he'd found himself, on more than one occasion, dreaming about you with a softness he knew not the existence of. You made him feel delicate, vulnerable like glass. He adored this feeling just as much as he feared it. A guy like him could love? He felt unready, undeserving. But there was no one else he'd rather be unready with than you. To put it simply Jason Todd was in love, and nothing made him more elated then when he realized he was in love with you.
➯ However, Jason was not unfamiliar with being used as the worlds personal chew toy. There would always exist a looming fear, whispered 'what if's and lurking 'maybe not's.
➯ To his misfortune, you were already taken. Long before he mustered up the courage to accept his feelings, you already had someone. It hurt more than words could ever say. But being the decent human he was, Jason respected that immediately.
➯ However, one day he was feeling bold, a stroke of extroversion dripping from his words as he said, "So who's the lucky someone? Think they could come to dinner tonight?"
➯ When Jason asked that question, never did he or the rest of the Batman Family expect you to actually answer, nor did they expect you to bring your significant other that night. But what was the most appalling, was who you brought. Jonathan Crane.
➯ "Are you insane?! You brought a psycho killer into the manor?!" Jason was absolutely flabbergasted, he closed his heart when it came to your affections.. because you loved a renowned criminal over him? His heart was shattering. It wasn't fair.
➯ "I love him, Jason!" "He's taken innocent lives, Y/N!"
➯ Jason on most occasions, found himself at odds with the Batfamily, but this? They agreed with him. The moment Jonathan Crane entered the room the air grew cold. No, no they couldn't allow this. They'd rather you bring home a petty criminal than someone the likes of the Scarecrow. Dinner is cut short and cruel words are exchanged in full.
➯ The only way they'd even think of accepting your relationship with Jonathan would be if he'd let go of the criminal life. If not then you'll find your relationships with them strained.
➯ But they couldn't deny, the soft and adoring gaze Jonathan had painted in his eyes when he'd look at you. "It's fine, we can have dinner at home tonight if you'd like." He snaked a hand to your waist before he grabbed your coat for you. Before leaving, Jonathan spared a glare to Jason, in his eyes was amusement mixed with caution. Even a blind man could tell the man was also in love with you. But Jonathan would not let up, he'd risk it all if it meant he could stay with you.
➯ The Batfamily looks to Jason in pity. They were aware of his feelings before he was. The nights he'd stay up just to await for a message from you, the little trinkets and charms he'd gift you whenever he came back to the manor. The way you made him feel alive. It all dulled down as you kissed Jonathan and left without another word spoken.
➯ "That man is trouble." Jonathan mutters between the skin on your neck, he pressed a kiss to your jaw, eyebrows knit in confusion at the sound of your laugh.
➯ "You two have something in common then, no?" You swayed in his arms for a moment before he spoke up once again.
➯ "In more ways than one, I'm afraid." Your lips parted, but he pressed on with an emotion unknown to you gleaming in his eyes. "He looks at you the same way I do.. however."
➯ "I only look at you this way." You brought his forehead to yours, your eyes filled to the brim with melting adoration.
➯ "It'll only ever be you, Jon."
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ragingbookdragon · 19 hours ago
I’m Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 7
Batfamily x Batsis Story
Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst
Author’s Note: Anyone order a part seven? Cause I got a part seven for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne
Ever since the meeting that night, she’d gotten more letters from her family than she’d ever received in twenty-one years. Not that she decided to read them. The first line from Dick’s letter was, ”I never wanted you to leave because of me. If only I’d known…”. She couldn’t keep reading, and she wasn’t sure if it were from guilt, sadness, or anger, but there was something there that she didn’t want to face.
It didn’t stop there though. They kept coming even if she tacked a return to sender on it and sent it back. She’d even labeled one and written, ”Stop writing me.” but that didn’t stop them. Wally texted her every other night on top of the letters and she wanted to strangle him through the phone.
She knew though, that if she could keep holding out for three more months, she’d be home free. Wherever home was at this point. Every city she kept thinking about had some type of vigilante and there was nothing that didn’t; eventually she decided on Coast City. Somewhere warm and sunny, and as far from Gotham and Central as possible.
Of course that little voice in the back of her head just kept telling her to talk to them, but she was going to be as stubborn against it as possible—but time was dwindling, and so was her resolve.
“Ophelia, have you seen the extra bag of espresso beans? I can’t remember where you put them the other week.” She waited for a response. “Ophelia?” she turned and frowned. “Why did I accept the manager’s position when I can’t even round up my workers?”
She walked out of the storage and wiped her hands on the rag at her waist. “Ophelia?” A giggle sounded at the counter and when she walked out, her eyes went wide at the sight.
Jason was leaning against the counter with that smile he used to use on the models at the galas. He smiled at Ophelia. “Tell me, what do you make better, the cappuccinos or lattes?”
“Well, I make a —”
“She makes a mean ‘get in the back and find my espresso beans’,” she grunted and both of them jumped.
“Melisandre!” Ophelia stuttered, pale cheeks flushing pink. “I thought you were in the back.”
“I was. Think you can go find the coffee beans you put away?” She shot Ophelia a stare that screamed ‘scram’ and the girl nodded, hurrying to the storage room.
“Aww, why’d you run the cutie off, Melisandre?” Jason queried. “I was going to ask her out on—”
“Can I talk to you?” she interrupted, voice barely containing her seething rage. “Outside.”
Jason shrugged and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Sure, but be careful, people might get suspicious.”
She grunted and walked outside, listening to him follow and when the door shut, she turned around and hissed, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just getting coffee.”
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Jason. We both know that’s a load of bullshit.”
His eyes narrowed and he noted, “You’ve really gotten comfortable using foul language. You know that, (Y/N)?”
She glared at him. “What. Do. You. Want.”
“You won’t answer our letters,” he shrugged. “Didn’t have a lot of options to talk.”
“And showing up at my job is the better option?” she griped.
“It was that or your house, (Y/N). Take your pick but you can’t have both.”
“Well, maybe my silence is supposed to be the answer to those letters. Did you think about that?”
“I did,” he nodded. “But after the third letter being rejected, I decided to go big or go home.”
(Y/N) growled. “Go home.”
Jason smirked. “No.”
“I’m not fucking joking here, Jason. I don’t want you coming here. Ever.”
“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he retorted then stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. “You don’t wanna talk willingly, fine. I’ll make you talk to me. And if I have to show up here every day, I will.”
“No, you won’t.”
Jason cocked a brow and tightened his grip. “You wanna bet? Because I’m not Dick and I’m sure as hell not Bruce. I don’t have a day job to get to.” He smirked. “I can do this all day.”
(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek and thought for a moment then sighed and yanked her arm away. “Fine. Come to my apartment after five. We’ll talk there.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she interrupted coldly. “I’m agreeing for one meeting and then you fuck off back to Gotham City and leave me the hell alone for good.” She spun on her heel and started back for the door when his voice reached her, tired and pained.
“Do you really hate all of us? Do you really hate us like you make yourself think you do?”
(Y/N)’s feet felt like lead and she stopped, gazing at the glass door. “I don’t know, Jason.”
“Then let me help.”
“You can find the apartment on your own. I know you’re good at looking for homes.” She slipped in the café door, leaving him standing there shocked and hurt.
Sure enough, a minute after five o’clock, her doorbell rang and she called, “It’s open.” The door opened and shut, and she looked up from the little kitchenette, watching the way Jason walked into her apartment, gazing around the empty living room.
“Shit, do you live in a home or a prison cell?”
(Y/N) grunted. “Nice quip. Come up with that by yourself?”
He wandered into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as she prepared dinner. “What’re you making?”
“Chicken marsala,” she replied. “You’re here to talk. Start talking.”
“Are you going to be a bitch like you were the other night or can I ask about life in Central the last three years?” she shot him a glare, warning him, but he paid it no mind. “You going to school?”
(Y/N) nodded. “I go to Central City Community College. Take classes all week at different times.”
“What are you studying?” he asked.
“For now, general studies, but I’m minoring in political science.”
“Planning on a four year after you graduate?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Her hands stalled for a moment. “I don’t have the money for a big school to get a bachelors.” Shaking her head, she chopped up the vegetables. “Figure if I can get a job in the area, I can scrounge up enough to start the process though.”
“Might take years,” Jason noted, and she nodded.
“Yeah, hard work usually does.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “What’s Cassandra like?”
He blinked, evidently not expecting that, though he recovered and smiled. “She’s great honestly. Kicks ass better than anyone I know.”
“Even Batman?”
Jason huffed a laugh. “I’m sure she could wipe the floor with each of us if she decided to not hold back. Her mom’s Lady Shiva and her dad’s David Cain.”
“I don’t know who they are but I’m assuming from the tone that they’re not exactly the best parents in the world.”
“No…they’re not.” He agreed. “David didn’t teach Cass how to speak so she’s been mute all her life.”
“I’ve heard the few interviews she’s given,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s very eloquent when she does.”
“Shakespeare’s influence. And probably Emily Dickinson.” He smiled. “I leave her a lot of books to read so I can be her favorite.”
She snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like you.” Sliding the cast iron skillet into the oven, she sat at the crappy metal dining table, Jason taking the seat on the other side. (Y/N) scratched at the table. “Does Bruce like her?” she questioned lowly, and he nodded.
“Loves her like she’s his own.” He her with cautious eyes. “Just like he loves you.” Jason watched the emotion flash across her face, quick as lighting, a deep sorrow, then she was humming.
“Well, that’s good then.” She cleared her throat and looked at the clock. “How’ve you been? I hear a lot about Outlaws.”
Jason chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my band of renegades. Me, Roy Harper, and Koriand’r.”
“Remind me, those were Speedy and Starfire, right?”
He snorted. “Arsenal and Starfire. But yeah, close enough.”
(Y/N) got up and pulled two glasses from the cabinet before going to the refrigerator and getting the lemonade. She poured them both glasses and sat back down. “How’d you manage to wrangle two of the Titans into your posse?”
“Kori willingly tagged along, and Roy won’t leave me alone,” he griped, sipping his lemonade.
“Mmm…and how does Dick feel about you stealing two of his exes?”
Jason choked on his drink, spilling it on the table and down his chin. “That’s not—” he coughed. “That’s not what that is.”
“Uh huh, sure it’s not.”
“It isn’t,” he glowered.
“Riiiiiiight,” she drawled out with a grin, then took a sip and set her glass back down. “Figured you’d get Cass along with you. she seems like she’d be fit for Outlaws.”
He shook his head. “Nah, she’d be better off with Tim and his Young Justice weirdos.”
“She non-lethal?”
They dwindled into silence until the timer went off on the oven and she pulled the skillet out and set two plates on the table. “You’re gonna feed me?” he asked as she handed him a fork.
(Y/N) scoffed. “Duh. I’m a bitch, but I’m a bitch with manners.” She smiled sweetly. “But you have to leave afterwards.”
“Mmm…can I crash on your couch?”
He shrugged. “Figured I’d try anyways.”
They ate in silence, occasionally speaking about their lives the last three years, and when the food was all gone and the lemonade drunk, he sighed and reclined in the chair.
“What?” (Y/N) questioned and he shrugged.
“Dunno…I’d like to do this again soon.” His teal eyes found hers. “It’s been too long since we were together.”
“Tread carefully,” she murmured, looking at the wall and he sighed.
“Sis, talk to me,” he begged. “Even if it’s just to tell me how much you hate me, just talk to me.” She didn’t respond and he sighed again, standing from the table. “Thanks for dinner.”
“…I hate that you all put Gotham and every civilian before our family.” Jason stopped dead in his tracks and turned, gazing at her, though she didn’t tear her eyes from the wall. “I hate that the only time I felt like anyone paid any attention to me was when we were at galas and even then, the attention was just for show. It didn’t matter because all anyone wanted to do was get the hell out of the manor and go on patrol. It didn’t matter because I wasn’t like any of you. I wasn’t a part of the real family.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “I hate that I spent more nights sitting in a dark and silent manor than spending them with my family. I hate that I never had a normal family growing up where we’d go for ice-cream after school and attend school performances. I hate that I got stuck with a bunch of siblings hellbent on giving every piece of themselves to the world and they couldn’t take one night off to have a family night to save their lives. To at least pretend to be normal.”
(Y/N) finally took her eyes from the wall and he felt his heart tighten as the tears slipped down her cheeks and she breathed, “I hate that I was born Bruce Wayne’s biological daughter and I’d give anything and everything I have to be someone else’s daughter and sister.”
Jason’s mouth felt dry, and he didn’t have single thing to say to her and she whispered, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Jason?” she blinked. “Because that’s what I feel every morning I wake up.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks.
“Yeah well, I’m three years passed sorry.” (Y/N) nodded to the front door. “You should leave now.”
Jason nodded but his feet didn’t move. For a moment, he couldn’t move them, then he sucked in a breath and started edging back to the door. When he neared the door, he pulled it open and paused, looking back at her. “(Y/N)?” she didn’t answer but he said it anyway. “I love you. More than you’ve ever known.” He sighed and stepped out, closing it behind him.
(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and sobbed alone at the dinner table.
Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy @foreverthefloor @natatawa-ako @impactshawol @bethabear12 @adazzlingsakura @kimhanbiin @thatanonymouschocolate @mischief-writter-24-7 @lostinwonderland314 @elz-zalarrr @lady-of-the-abyss @peqchynero @d3m0n8ch1ld @goldenguki @fallen-wolf22 @battlenix
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batarella · 20 hours ago
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Jason Todd is lost in an unknown realm light years away from Earth.
With not much hope to find his way back, his only companion is a cruel alien cyborg from the enemy fleet,  one he’ll have to get along with to survive.
Like the headlights that blind as death holds them to his face, the eyes that stared at him were as cold and empty as any blank red bulb. As they glowered like a sniper’s scope, she was gone. N/N lied through her teeth with her last words. Her humanity detached itself from its already weak ties; her face was as deathly as a gun’s smoking muzzle, ready to place a bullet between the eyes that crossed her.
Or crossed Z’arr. She had no thoughts. She had no feelings of anguish, vengeance, or anger. She was a machine powered by the hands of another, a robotic puppet no different from a remote-controlled toy truck. An android.
“Are you in the mood for a show?” Z’arr asked his men. They cackled in response and one of them clubbed the back of Jason’s head with his pipe of an arm.
All it took was a tap on Z’arr’s wrist, a control display that completely rid his precious N/N of her own mind.
A Kryptonian. And no other.
The machinery that held her arms opened, and before the rest of them could even hear the smoke exhaust, N/N obliterated the glass with her fists and leapt for the weakened Jason.
His back couldn’t possibly have broken that many walls on its own, but N/N held him by the shoulders, pushed without the aid of the wind to fly. With gravity being a feeble force no match for her strength, she threw Jason four rooms down.
Had his heart found its way to his head?
Because it was throbbing like one, like fists rattling a steel cage with an agitated gorilla calling for help.
But the blood had reached his eye sockets. For so long, all he could see was the red that spilled from his hairline; the stinging iron that would not leave his tongue. His back should have been in pieces. Perhaps it was, and that his flesh had the cruelty to hold itself together while none of his bones were intact.
He coughed a mouthful of blood. Around him, cyborgs were fleeing out of the food room. Some stayed, watched as if entertained. Some in horror. It was no different from the nosy crowds back at home.
Something grabbed him by the collar on his back, lifting him up so he hung like he was in the gallows. Jason clawed relentlessly at the static tightening in his neck, then he laid eyes on N/N who held him up like he weighed the same as feathers.
Her cold, red eyes. Nothing terrified him more. And she wanted him to have a slow fall into death’s arms, when he could feel his life being torn from his lungs. Jason reached for her arms, her shoulders. “N/N…”
Nothing. That was no longer her name.
It should have been a bullet that hit his chest, but nothing sliced his skin. Instead, it was her fist-with the might of an elephant’s foot leaving a crater on soil. The back of his head soon met a wall.
The shooting pains in his ribs stretched to every nerve stubborn enough to hold on. Already, N/N was in front of him, her feet not even touching the ground as she flew, then she held Jason by the neck to the wall.
“N/N,” he cried, “please. Please, it’s me…”
One hit to his ribs. Another to his face. The words only seemed to agitate her more. He couldn’t tell what was in his lips-if it was blood, sweat, tears, or all three. His jaw had broken by the third hit.
“Enough talking!” Cyborg voices echoed from outside. “Fight back, earthling!”
His body was skidding across the floor. Each time he rolled over his back, his bones punctured further into his lungs.
“He’s not even hitting back!”
“Is he crying?!”
More blood left his mouth. As his arms struggled to hold him above ground so it wouldn’t further shatter his bones, N/N slammed her foot against his back and for once, his screams were all to be heard. His vocal chords had distorted and he couldn’t even recognize his own cries.
Only once did he have this many bones broken before.
Just once.
That night.
But this time, it was worse. Because what gouged through his throat to rip his soul out was no one he hated. It was N/N. N/N. She was doing this to him.
This wasn’t her. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t her.
With the side of his face cementing itself to the cracking ground, he could move only his eyes. There was a wall in front of him: a wall tainted with his blood.
Still, his heart, granted with too many chances at life, would not easily slip away. His eyes trailed up to his assailant, a beautiful cyborg with the hands that once held him so gently, now watched his face distort as her foot dug further into his spine.
No pain was greater than having both the mind and body shatter all at once.
A push of a button.
That was all it took.
N/N stopped and stepped away. She was as stiff as an object, a piece of machinery, standing still and upright just as Z’arr approached them from behind.
“What’s another assessment, earthling? It is the test before we’d bother to replace your parts.”
The Martian did not kneel to his side and only looked down on him like he was dead pest on the ground.
“You’re a stubborn one. We can work with that,” he turned to his me. “Take him back to his cell.”
That night, the pain could not lull him to sleep like it tends to. Everything was silent. Everything was deafening.
She shattered all ten of his ribs.
More than that, he was sure. He couldn’t, quite literally, lift even a finger.
His breaths were counted. Even with shards of his own bones puncturing his lungs, he forced himself to breathe. Every time he did, it was like driving a knife further down his chest.
Nothing had ever been so broken within him that he wished death would just waltz in invited, but he wasn’t allowed that. Not this time.
N/N broke him.
N/N did this to him.
But it wasn’t her.
But it was her.
Always. She’d always been so capable of being so cruel. How was this any different from how she treated him the first time they met?
If only she were as capable at the Watchtower or at the deserts as she was now, he wouldn’t have died differently than in the pitiful state he was in.
One dose of their magical serum wasn’t enough. They had to come in and inject him twice for anything to work. Apparently, they never had a recruit with as much damage from an assessment as he did.
They never had N/N for a torturer either.
Days after, or perhaps it had only been hours, Jason had healed. The pain was still there, of course. And even when it no longer hurt to breathe, it hurt to still exist, to live.
From within his cell, he could only sit and watch as they did the same atrocities to Roy as they did him. Only less, since he was no Lazarus-enhanced earthling. But he was strong all the same and they deemed him worthy for a few parts. His eyes and arms especially. The better to shoot arrows with, dear.
When they left Roy with the serum snapping his bones back into place, he had the strength to look up to his friend. He should be furious, screaming at him for even having the heart to just sit and watch. Hell, Jason didn’t even have the decency to look away.
But he was just as quiet.
Even he knew Jason was long gone, even with all the wounds healed and fixed. He was shattered and no serum could ever fix that. This test wasn’t to see if their bodies were capable. It was to rid them of their humanity and hope.
He was only sorry he couldn’t save Roy, like all the other times their shenanigans were only saved by the strike of luck. Roy stared at Jason for the whole of the night. He accepted this. They’d accepted death. If only it was the same as dying, it would have been okay.
His Red Hood helmet disturbed the darkness with a beeping red light, as it did when it received a message from its transmitters. He didn’t hold it up to his head, but he at least had the strength to listen.
Deleted the message before it even finished. This was delusion at this point.
As if it wasn’t her doing, Jason closed his eyes and let the last lingering memories of N/N and her smile bring him that momentary peace. It lasted the night, almost as if her arms were close around his shoulders.
By the end of it, there were other hands that grabbed him, leading Jason out of his cell. There was no saving him. There was no saving this.
They made the hallways as narrow, cold, and empty as possible as if they purposely wanted their hope to further become ash. They held his arms behind his back, as if it were needed when Jason hadn't the strength to even speak.
They passed a room where the cyborgs stood eerily still, without the mind to at least twitch.
A cyborg with the face of a beautiful blue-skinned alien was being rid of her arms, replaced with the same as the Brainiac’s androids. Beside her was one who’d already gone too far to be saved, a friend of hers that no longer had a face, but a cold, empty skull he’d seen far too many times. Soon enough, they’ll be supply for Brainiac’s next invasion.
He couldn’t understand the thin cyborg-with the same built as a grasshopper-holding a holographic clipboard. From the looks of Jason’s anatomy projected above the screen, they were replacing a whole lot of him, more than they should. His arms, already so large, looked double its size. The cybernetic replacements for his thighs looked deadly enough to snap three necks at a time. His brain would be completely ripped from his skull and his chest no different from a steel shell of a machine’s engine. His handsome face would be no more, and instead by a faceless plate of metal with two slits for eyes and a mouth nothing more than a dent. It looked exactly like the Red Hood.
His heart: a cold piece of fuel, like the battery of a ship.
His hands, most of all, no longer looked to be of a human’s. In place of fingers, palms that flushed red of his blood, he had blasters out of his wrists; guns like the ones Bruce repeatedly told him not to use. Karma was not just a bitch. She was sadistic, too.
A tank. Of course. They wanted to build him to be a tank. Like N/N.  
He all but rolled his eyes.
The room they took him in had a pod where he’d lie down. They strapped the large man to the bed, even when he showed no restraint. Above him was a blinding white light: the last he’d ever see with the eyes he had now.
He always did think he had pretty eyes. Blue. Like the dust clouds of a nebula on the black skies.
Jason closed them, wanting the feel of his fluttering eyelids to last. Then he let the dreams play out: the dreams of home. The visions were peaceful, gentle.
He thought those visions would stop when they’d drill a screw into his skull.
But it stopped when no other than a sudden flash of fire that scorched the room in black, dispersing ash. Then there were the shrieks of frantic pigs, or the horrified cries of birds.
His eyes shot open when the fire hit too close to his face. Once more, his blood was pumping like it only took then for anything to wake him. He struggled with the shackles but couldn’t move. The fire killed more of his captors. The only one who lived was the grasshopper who put up no fight and instead, curled at the corners of the room begging Ora to spare him.
She did, thankfully. Ora shed her disguise as one of Jason’s guards and sighed as her mohawk almost touched the ceiling. “We don’t have much time,” she said, already throwing Jason his helmet and weapons. “We’ll get you out of here.”
Was this that very delusion?
Should he take it?
The Fleet did an awful good job making sure there was none of that, even when hope was being served on a shiny platter with a bib around his neck.
Ora tore the shackles apart. “Come on-“
“Are you sure?” Jason asked. If it were any other case, they’d already be out the door. This was the days of mental torture talking. “We can't get out of this-“
“Aya has Roy. A ship is waiting for us. Let’s go-“
“Why are you helping me?”
Ora shook him by the shoulders.
“N/N made me promise. That enough of a reason for you?”
No prison cell could keep her down.
Or at least, stop her from saving Jason one last time.
Ora didn’t wait for Jason to object. She sped out the door, shooting fire out of her hands at anything that moved. The alarm blared through every speaker in the Station, and already, he could hear the many cyborgs coming in from the ceiling, the corners, even the floor.
“Ora,” Jason pleaded when his legs grew too weak, “N/N is too strong-“
“I know you’re afraid of her,” Ora held Jason by the waist, “we all are. There’s no one in this ship with half her strength.”
“I wasn’t going to say I was afraid, but that was reassuring.”
“Let’s just hope we don’t have to run into her.”
When her fire could no longer melt the steel, they ran by foot out of the food room for the hangars. The walls suddenly broke down at the might of a Mace of the strongest metal.
Aya shielded herself from the flying debris with her gigantic metal wings. At her side, strapped like a babe, was Roy shooting arrows at incoming cyborgs they didn’t even see.
He raised a hand to Jason like a salute. Then Jason grabbed his guns from his hips.
Roy jumped to his side and they paved their dangerous ways into the rubble. Soon enough, the ruckus would reach the Captain and they couldn’t afford to allow them the time. Aya grabbed them both by the collars, Ora used her fire to free their path, and Jason and Roy shot at anything that even moved. The androids for Brainiac, the cyborgs that looked still too similar to him, all crowded to stop them.
But they reached the hangar, thankfully, after breaking down several walls. The ship couldn’t possibly have lasted, and the floor quaking beneath them only sealed that. Finally, as if a rush of air was there to greet them, they reached the main deck where the plasma ceilings distorted the vast, open skies; the stars singing their misses for Jason as he realized it’d been days since he last saw them.
Ora started for a ship that would have immediately left the terminal. It was then. Hope. As easily as it’d left him, his soul rushed to every ends of his body until there could only be that haste to save themselves.
That ship, however, did not even get to say its finalities. Hope had a little setback as everyone with a sense stood stiff in helpless fear.
N/N shot from the sky, or wherever she came from, with her red, unblinking eyes much like the burn of a star. Her feet landed on the ship itself and it posed no fight nor chance against her weight. The whole ship broke down beneath her; not even with a dent or a crater. It exploded like a canon shot through the whole of it until it was nothing but ash and flying debris, fire catching like a warm, dramatic welcome.
N/N, the Cyborg, grabbed what was left of the ship and tossed it until it drifted out into the vacuum. Like waves parting for a terrifying deity, the fire subsided and the other cyborgs, a whole army of them, stood at the side.
Earthlings stood no chance. That wasn’t a question.
Tamaranians and Thanagarians could. They were strong by themselves.
But against a Kryptonian?
Perhaps not even the Justice League could easily get out of this, like they hadn't when the whole team went against Clark.
Like death in space.
Like the stars that made no sound.
Or the hovering asteroids that wouldn’t whisper even as it collided with its own brethren.
Ora shot what she could out of her palms. But the flames were subtle. Scared. She was so terrified of her own friend, she couldn’t even hold the sweat from extinguishing her own flames.
Aya was no different. Perhaps out of everyone, she feared N/N the most. The largest, most capable being out of the ones on his side, the mace on her hand was shaking like something quaked her.
Jason and Roy. The supposed helpless earthlings. They should be afraid. For what was left out of their lives, they should at least anticipate what would come.
The glowing red eyes had set them as targets. N/N stood unmoving, arms stretched and ready to pounce like a waiting lioness. Her feet looked unshaken even with the ground beyond repairs beneath her.
Help her. Save her.
The voice that echoed, he hoped to ignore.
At Z’arr’s unspoken command, N/N tore through the winds like a bullet shot out of a large gun.
He wasn’t spared the warning of at least having seen her move. The next thing he knew, Jason was pinned to the wall several yards away. His back tore a crater once again, but the pain thankfully didn’t have to last. As he stared at N/N’s eyes, bright enough that it hurt to look, there was nothing but blankness. Not N/N. M-812
Aya’s mace reverberated through the whole part of the ship. The impact was so large, so loud, the clang of metal sounded the same as a ship crashing on cold grounds. To the side of her head, finally, something was strong enough to throw N/N off her stance.
Then her aim was set on Aya, a grit showing that it at least hurt. N/N and Aya pounced at each other like two panthers at a brawl from opposite ends of the ship. No wind stood a chance in their way.
Jason fell but he didn’t wait for the rest to come for him. Not with the cyborgs and half-done androids coming for them. Ignoring everything in him that shattered, he shot at anyone and anything, hiding behind a large cart that’d been thrown to its side.
Roy was at the other side of the hangar, shooting at the bots that flew over his head. Some of the arrows struck just the right place for it to come crashing to the floor. The others that missed, he sadly could no longer retrieve when it escaped out of the plasma walls and out drifting into space.
He could last like this. He could survive the thousands of cyborgs. With a blaster or two and a best friend who stuck to his side, they could last.
But what happened above them was infinitely more interesting.
Aya’s wings shot her miles above the plasma threshold. Holding her throat, N/N did not scream. The wings that flapped like a hawk caught in a storm blurred what they could make out of the scene. The shards where the feathers should have been were terrifying. They pounced for N/N’s skin, but none could pierce it. Aya flew them both further to the sky as N/N thrashed in her hold. When Aya threw her off, immediately she clubbed her with the mace to her head before N/N could recover.
Unfortunately, it was all she could manage. Aya couldn’t keep up with N/N as she narrowly drifted and swerved away from the mace.
Aya was too slow. When she lunged herself forward, N/N threw herself to grab the Thanagarian by the shoulders, squeezing until the metal crushed beneath her fingers. Then she spun, fast enough for a whirlwind to appear even in a vacuum. Aya was thrown back to the ship with an impact that engulfed a part of it in flames.
Ora had only just held off an army of androids from her tail when she looked up, knowing she was the next target.
She hovered like a star and shone like one.
Like the Kryptonians Jason knew before her, she was flying over the ship. To no force that could pull her to the grounds. To no wind that could stand in her way; like a deity, like a god who saved, only she wasn’t. She floated above their heads, fixating her aim on Ora.
Ora thrusted herself up like a rocket. A blast was enough to hold her off, for a while, but N/N escaped the dark flames unscathed without even her skin twitching from the burn. The red from her eyes shone through the ash and she soar from yards up the ground like a failing comet, a light trailing behind her as she dove, and grabbed Ora by the throat.
They disappeared beneath the ship’s deck, destroyed as they shot down stories below and obliterating everything in their way. Past the floors, breaking at each impact of Ora’s back; the hole on the ground was enough to quake the whole ship, and for how large it was underneath, it took minutes long before they exploded out of the hull below.
Somehow, Ora lived through that. She was fleeing back up to the heights above the Station, even with it slow to collapse possibly into two halved pieces. Her shots of fire did no damage and her punches couldn’t make even a dent.
When N/N threw her miles from where they hovered, Ora propelled herself with powerful thrusters bursting past the lack of light. And with that built strength and speed, she pushed N/N off her steady hover until her back ultimately met with Aya’s mace.
The Earthlings on the hangar, surviving with whatever thread of a life they could helplessly hold onto, would soon run out of ammo and arrows. Thankfully, they’d put up a fight against the relatively weaker cyborgs. If Jason had the sense to be sarcastic, he’d joke about being the baby. When Roy rushed to his side of the cart to hide with him, however, he beat him to that.
“How does it feel not being the big guns for once?” Roy screamed.
“It’s a fucking treat!”
The battle above to the stars and the one below it was the kind of chaos that shouldn’t have lasted as long as it did.
When N/N had her attention set on Aya, she flew them away from the ship to the stars none of them could see.
Then Ora fell to their side, shielding Jason and Roy before the cart that protected them lost its stretch of life. They rose from their place on the ground.
“The lower decks!” Ora cried through the screams. “Get the Mother Box!”
Ora overheated an android just before it would have come for Jason.
“The Mother Box! He can save N/N!”
She didn’t need to say more.
Jason and Roy might as well have held hands when they paved their way through the unforgiving crowd of debris, laser blasts, and even limbs thrown to their direction. He shot his blaster, praying the ammo wouldn’t die until they’d reached inside the ship, and Roy used the last of his arrows and even picked up stray rods from the ground to shoot at the cyborgs.
Through the hole N/N made on the main deck, Roy stuck an arrow to the floor, fashioned a rope to its end as quick as a boy scout tying a knot, and they suspended themselves down to the collapsing floors and slabs that was almost falling out of their beams. Just before someone cut the ropes, they fell to the lower deck and they rolled to extinguish the fire on their clothes.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Just run!”
More tailed them. Some flew. Some crawled like insects. One thing was for sure: too many of them were after a couple of earthlings supposedly posing as no threat. They blindly shot behind them, but as they reached a hallway that curved corners like a maze, not a lot of them could keep up.
When one android grabbed Jason by the foot, Roy had blown up its head with an arrow that short circuited its brain, frying the rest of its body until it was limp on the floor. Another jumped for Roy, and with Jason being larger, he kneed the cyborg to the stomach, shot its head with a blast between the eyes.
A large door at the farthest end of the hallway; probably meant to hold a prized prisoner.
As he should be.
And it was open. Someone was inside.
The incoming mob was growing. Only instead of actual pitchforks being thrown their way, their hands morphed into steel shards like the ends of a knife and they pounced for the earthlings’ flesh. “Hide!” Roy screamed, and they rushed behind the door, bolted it shut before a hand would have grabbed their throats.  
Jason didn’t know if locking the door would be any help without thinking of how the fuck they were going to get out of that place.
But it was the least of their worries when the silence overcame the conundrum. Jason tapped on Roy’s shoulder to calm him. He was not calm. None of them should be calm. But they were quiet, unlike their beating hearts.
Captain Z’arr hovered like a ghost. His face, sharp as if his chin could cut steel, was as unmoving as his glare on them. His eyes were red, but they didn’t glow like lights. They were blank and dark. And in his hand, the damned scepter with a shred of Kryptonite encased near the tip.
Roy drew an arrow from his quiver, only having so much left behind, before Jason held out an arm to stop him.
Behind Z’arr was the very answer to this discourse: the bright, blinding beacon that so suddenly filled Jason with the needed hope.
It was all so tragic. Of course, the Fleet of cyborgs would want him. A Cyborg that could change bank numbers at just a thought, who had a connection to every artificial intelligence or anything with a circuit board in the universe.
Whose physical strength was just the tip, the very tip, of what he could do.
Perhaps the King of all Cyborgs.
Victor Stone had grown thin and worn. Whatever horrors they’d put him through, months after he was last seen, it’d taken its horrific toll. He posed a fight, that was certain, but he was alive. He was intact.
He was asleep, stuck to the wall with his arms outstretched like the Vitruvian Man.
Had they rid him of his humanity? Of his mind? Had they already done their damage enough that saving him would only risk the whole universe?  
His face, bruised from unspeakable horrors, did not answer. But it moved as if to take a breath. Cyborgs didn’t have to breathe if they weren’t programmed to.
They could save him still.
Z’arr hovered to them, and the wall stopped Roy and Jason from backing up any further.
“We might be pretty fucking useless out there,” Jason gulped, “but I wouldn’t underestimate us against you.”
The Martian did not laugh. “I would not underestimate me either, earthling,” he grinned. “You might know of my kind-“
“Your kind, who you were supposed to fight with for your own planet,” he shot at him.
Z’arr took no liking to his knowledge of his history. “Watch your tongue.”
“Or what?”
“I am the Captain of this Fleet-“
“And you are a weakling who sucks up to superiors by sacrificing his own men. And you’ve done it twice.”
Z’arr shot a shard of metal he got from God knows where at their direction, and it bounced off the steel door before Roy and Jason separated.
“You do not know of what you speak-“
“I know exactly what I speak.”
Roy, at the other side of the cell’s holding, hid behind the crates and desks while Z’arr shot another slab of metal at Jason.
“You betray the Green Martians,” Jason shot with his blaster, “and now you betray the Fleet-“
Z’arr flew to where he thought Jason hid, but the asshole somehow made it to the ceiling, and he jumped for Z’arr with a knife to his shoulder. Z’arr shrieked before he pried it out, but Jason already hid somewhere he couldn’t see.
“First the White Martians, now Brainiac? Is you being a suck up ever going to stop?”
Z’arr swung his Kryptonite scepter at Jason as if the rock had any effect on him.
“Face it. You’re no Captain.”
Blasters shot for Z’arr’s shoulder. His ear-piercing shriek almost threw him off.
“I am the Captain.”
“A Captain leads his army to war,” Jason said, “All you do is throw your loyalty around because you can't protect yourself, even at the cost of your own men.” Another knife thrown at Z’arr’s shoulder. This was too easy. “You’re the biggest coward in the galaxy, Z’arr.”
That surely set him off.
The Martian cried but no longer to fight the pain. None of the crates could hold him, and as Jason managed to lift one over his shoulders, throwing it at Z’arr’s direction, it merely passed through his body as if he were made of air. Right. Martian. Almost forgot they could do that.
Z’arr grabbed him by the shoulders, pinned Jason’s body to the wall just at Victor’s side. His punches were strong, though none he hasn’t already seen. Jason grabbed his fists, twisted it enough to make him lose his hold. He struggled. He shook. It was enough.
“You are of no worth, a brat owned by that annoyance of an earthling, the Batman,” Z’arr growled, “do not underestimate me.”
“I think I overestimated you.”
“Have you always been this much talk, you insect?” his static voice eerily crept to his ear. When Jason grabbed him by the throat, he snarled back.
“My guy, that’s the point.”
Z’arr looked at him quizzically amidst their struggle for power.
“You know what the Batman taught me?” Jason grinned, “Keep your enemies talking.”
The realization hit him like a brick.
Roy had unknowingly placed bombs all over the walls and crates that scattered around Z’arr. All it took was for Jason to kick him to the ground, brace for cover, then Roy shot at the trigger. At the slightest impact of the arrow’s tip to a bomb that wasn’t even an inch in size, the whole side of the wall exploded into bursting flames: the one thing Z’arr could not stand.
He disappeared into the cloud of smoke and the flares too bright for them to see through. Maybe he perished, burnt to a crisp. It sounded that way when his shrieks were as painful to hear as a knife being driven into their drums. When the explosion subsided and the room was covered in debris, their first instinct was to rush to Victor.
“You alright?” Jason asked Roy.
“I’m fine. How do we wake him up?”
Any wrong touch could be lethal to Victor.
What they did to the holding cell, however, didn’t afford them the chance to find out. There was a lever, much like the throttle for a ship, that was pushed way up on the control panel. The rest of it were buttons he no longer understood. That red lever looked to be the obvious answer.
Without warning, Jason pulled that lever down.
The tubes that held Vic to the wall exhausted open, with month-old smoke spewing out of the many cracks. Only a tube that clawed itself to the back of his head held onto Vic. He fell to the ground, the rest of him thankfully unhurt, but he was cold and unconscious.
“Come on, Vic, wake up.”
“We got company.”
The door burst open at last with a whole mob coming for them. “Cover us,” he told Roy.
The tube to his head. That was what reprogrammed N/N.
But Vic was a Mother Box. They couldn’t have possibly reprogrammed him so easily.
It was a stretch that could go horribly wrong, and none would forgive him even himself. But there wasn’t the time, and the rest of the cyborg army was getting too much for the archer to handle.
With his bare hands, Jason pried the tube from Vic’s skull, its claw shooting sparks when it finally detached.
Vic gasped for breath like he’d been held to the ocean for months, the air to his lungs bringing color back to his skin which had grown so noticeably lifeless.
Vic shot up to his feet and threw Jason to the wall. Roy ran for cover.
It wasn’t Vic. It was his armor’s defense system.
The mob of cyborgs stood stiff at the sight of the Mother Box. Mindlessly, Vic’s first instinct was to fire at anything that posed a threat.
As long as they didn’t move, they’d be fine. “Roy, hide!”
They took cover behind the crates. All he could see was this blinding beacon out of Vic’s machine arm that tore through every shape of matter that stood its way. Some escaped, leaped from its way before the shot would have completely burnt their bodies to ash. Vic did not stop until none of the mob was left behind.
When it subsided into smoke, there was silence.
Jason and Roy peaked from over the crates and Vic had fallen to the floor, grabbing his head. “Vic-“
Victor aimed his arm at them, instinctively anxious. They raised their hands to surrender and with a voice the friendliest it could be, something Vic could recognize, Jason hummed.
“It’s us. Jason. Roy Harper. You know us.”
“Stay away-“
“Jason Todd.” He tried reaching out but Vic only kept with his aim.
“It’s us. You're Victor Stone.”
Another throb in his head threw him off his stance. Vic fell forward, clawing at his skull like it was gnawing at his bones. His screams were as low as whispers, but spoke the same pain. When Jason rushed to grab him by the shoulders, Vic no longer threw him away.
“It’s us. We’re here to help. Please, Victor.”
When Jason held his head, as if it were any help to ease him, Vic met his eyes.
“Jason. It’s me. Jason.”
His eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. They spoke to Victor when they had him in their hold. Perhaps it was a reminder of the oceanic blue of Earth, or the homely gaze of welcoming arms.
He hugged Victor. He never hugged him before. But it was the first of what he needed.
“What did they do to you, Vic?”
“I-I was…” he choked, perhaps still contemplating if he spoke at all, “t-they took me, did all these tests…”
“Do you remember anything?”
“I remember everything.”
When his voice dipped into that recognizable depth, he knew it won't be long before they had their friend back
“We need your help.”
“Jason, we have to go,” Roy said when he looked out of what was left of the door. Jason reached for Vic’s arm. “I can walk,” he insisted, pulling himself on his feet.
“I hope you can do more than that, pal.”
When Roy and Vic headed out the door, Jason set his eyes on the Kryptonite scepter left unmoving amid the debris.
And every voice of reason begged him to take it, if their lives meant anything to him at all.
If they meant more to him than N/N.
But it wasn’t N/N anymore.
That thing could kill her.
She’d never forgive him.
He’ll never forgive himself.
They didn’t need it. They had Vic.
But Vic was no Kryptonian.
He couldn’t face N/N alone and win. No one can.
And a voice, the only one he both wished to hear and begged to forget, was echoing into the walls in his head, with the ringing that deafened him and the trembling grounds that pushed him.
Only Bruce had ever singlehandedly faced a Kryptonian and won.
A powerless earthling.
And all that plagued his mind was just that.
How did Bruce do it?
He didn’t have to be Bruce. Not just yet.
But the part of him that was Bruce, a product of fighting years of desperately trying not to be, grabbed the scepter and strapped it to his back.
It at least didn’t take too long for them to rush back out to the halls, past the corridors they’d blown up and the remains of fallen cyborgs left on the ground. Cyborg grabbed them both with his arms and flew them up to the surface.
They suddenly wished they hadn't.
There was too much blood, the engineered blue that spilled on the floor, for anyone to have survived.
Aya laid close to lifelessness in the midst of the fiery debris, without a muscle twitching or moving her mace away from being horribly stretched behind her back. A crate weighed on top of her so she couldn’t heal or even move.
Ora’s screams were horrific before they were finally silenced. Where she laid: a crater the size of a meteorite’s impact on hard soil. Her own flames burnt her, with her arms pinned to the sides of her body and a steel slab that hugged her like a python. Only N/N’s hands could have possibly molded the steel to bend that way.
They should have cowered away like any sane man would, but they only took a step back when N/N slammed herself on the ship’s deck once again.
Her red eyes fixed on them, and her head tilted as if it was curious.
On Vic, of course. Her sensors were probably going nuts at the sight of the Mother Box.
Vic’s defense system was quick to act. When his arm molded into an impressive blaster the size of a tank’s machine gun, the beams that shot out of him were enough to throw N/N across the hangar. She crashed to the wall.
And even when it barely made a dent on her skin, it was enough for her systems to react.
N/N flew like a bullet aiming for Victor’s head. The beams, at least, had the sense to keep shooting quick enough before she would have crashed him. N/N came to a screeching halt, swerved before the blast hit her. And when she was all but hovering over them to avoid every blast that came her way.
But the blasts couldn’t hold N/N for too long. She pounced at Vic like a speeding hawk and grabbed him by the shoulders, dragging him across the metal grounds to scrape it with his body until a long trail marked the main deck. She threw Cyborg for the plasma walls possibly knowing he couldn’t breathe in space.
But he saved himself with his thrusters just before his head crossed the threshold. Vic flew back on safer grounds, firing his beams to keep N/N at bay.
Vic had no chance of getting close enough to N/N’s head, rid her of Z’arr’s control without possibly dying himself.
Perhaps Ora was in that same delusion that N/N still could be saved.
How do you save someone when she was that very thing they were fighting against?
She was a weapon, built to go after anything that posed a threat.
Jason held the scepter, gripped on it tight until his fingers were worn, then he shot the last of his blasters at N/N’s head. It only bounced against her skin, but it caught her attention.
When she set her eyes, her sensors, on Jason, the blank look on her face was much like a recalibrating machine.
With this plan of his, or the lack of it at least, he had to remember this wasn’t N/N he faced.
The Kryptonian Cyborg eyed the scepter and he could have sworn he heard a hiss out of her lips. The first instinct of any programmed machine was to destroy the biggest threat in its way.
What bigger threat was there, other than the only piece of matter in the galaxies that could ever pierce a Kryptonian’s flesh?
Her head turned for a crate. Quickly, N/N flew for one and grabbed it over her shoulders, tossing it at Jason’s direction before he could even move to avoid it. He couldn’t, and it shattered above him. He lost his grip on the scepter and when the crate broke, N/N grabbed for his throat and flew Jason to the closest wall to pin him against it.
She could not touch that scepter if she didn’t want the Kryptonite to burn her. She could only kill the one that held it.  
She flew them far away from the Kryptonite before it could possibly weaken her, and her hand no longer felt the throb of blood beating through her veins. Like a steel rod was being pushed to his throat, it shouldn’t have been long before his neck breaks like shards of glass against a boot.
But he wasn’t dead just yet.
That second was all that mattered.
This time, he had to fight back.
He was Jason Todd.
He died.
He lived again.
And if there was one thing not a lot of people knew,
It was how this was not the first time he ever broke a Kryptonian’s hold.
No earthling should have done it. Hell, he could feel every eye on him twitch, staring widely at the scene so unbelievably true.
His hands were shaking.
But they pried N/N’s indestructible hands from being wrapped around his throat, and as the air shot back up to his head, he only grew stronger. It was quick, a flash one would have missed in a blink.
Jason pushed himself off N/N’s grip and ducked before her fist landed on the wall.
It shouldn’t have happened.
But it happened.
Jason was back on his feet. A voice called out from afar. Roy.
His friend tossed him the scepter.
N/N’s face couldn’t physically distort to look mortified, but she no longer pounced so easily. Not when Jason had the scepter.
With that little shred of Kryptonite, he could end this.
He could end her.
She would have wanted him to.
How did Bruce do it?
How did Bruce defeat Clark all those years ago?
With his undying wit, the immovable willpower to subdue his loved ones when needed, and a pound of Kryptonite.  
N/N was gritting. She couldn’t feel anything, but even then, she looked furious.
But when she jumped for Jason, all it took was a swing of his scepter and already, she was thrown yards across the ground.
Jason held it close enough until she was crawling, shielding her eyes from the Kryptonite’s glow.
He had to be Bruce this time.
Of all times, it had to be now.
Now. To N/N.
This was not the N/N he survived with, kissed, held, and made love to. This was a thoughtless android who’d kill him at any moment’s hesitation. It was no different from their first brawls. That N/N, he needed to subdue. He could do it now. Suppress everything else that happened after.
Tears drenched his face. Was this how it was supposed to end?
Any contact with the rock was lethal. If she doesn’t live through this-
Do it, Jason, Bruce screamed.
“I’m sorry…”
The scepter stabbed N/N by the shoulder. Only then, even when her mind couldn’t possibly have allowed her to feel pain, her screams were the deafening cries of help he wanted desperately to come aid. But he was there to cause it, to draw more of it. The Kryptonite glowed until the light couldn’t allow them to see through their own cries, and when he couldn’t shield it with his arms, Jason lifted the scepter up, lifting N/N along with it impaling deeper into her arm.
She grabbed its hilt, her stubborn, willful spirit still there despite the reprogramming that shouldn’t have allowed her the thought. And when she caught Jason’s tear-flooded eyes, fighting through her screams, he knew there was no going back.
Even when she loses, she does not accept defeat.
So there was a trace of her left after all. Only N/N would have used the last stretch of her strength to spit at her killer’s face.
With wide eyes, Jason saw the end of him. N/N blew onto the scepter and a deathly crawl of icy frost formed where her breath blew like a storm’s wind.
And he couldn’t move fast enough before her freeze breath reached Jason’s hand.
Screaming at the ice that tore through his flesh, N/N crushed the scepter’s staff with the last of her strength, and a string of destruction crept to where he could no longer move. Just as she did, only then did Vic finally get close enough to her, his hand like a claw as it sunk deep into N/N’s skull.
Jason couldn’t feel a thing. Not at first. The ice was enough to subdue the pain.
But once he laid eyes on his frozen hand that’d shattered into pieces, torn from his wrist like it was so easily detached, all the excruciating pain surged in an instant’s wave.  
But he couldn’t fall out of consciousness, not when everything was screaming at him like this.
With his hand gone, the pain felt eternal.
Like the stars burned beneath his skin. There was no finger for him to reach the sky with. Nothing he could writhe and shake to show just how terrified he was. He looked up, at the unending stars splattered like paint. How he used to watch them like a marvel. Now, they faced him in death.
Turning to his side, he was so suddenly drawn to N/N’s screams that echoed out into the chasms.
She was on her knees, crying both from the Kryptonite still lodged into her flesh and Vic’s claw on her skull, rewiring her brain once more. It was belittling, going against everything she’d fought relentlessly against for years. She wanted so badly to have a mind of her own, and she couldn’t even have that.
This had to happen.
Vic held on for the most of it. When it was done, when the light out of her eyes finally was rid of the blank red so at loss of life, her screams came to a halt. Vic released the claw from her head and she fell limp on the ground.
Someone so strong never looked so helpless. So innocent. Not a trace of fury etched on her face.
Even when he just had his whole hand frozen off, and his blood pooling all over the ground, Jason was already crawling to her body. His tears were never so painful to sting his eyes. His good hand reached for her, helplessly. He could barely sit upright, but that was what he did.
Jason crawled to her side with his whole body like hauling a sack. Crying her name in a whisper only he could hear, his pleas were inaudible. Her name, repeatedly out of his lips, was like a prayer. Roy held Victor off from rushing to help Jason. No one can help him.
His senses slowly came rushing. Or what was left of them, at least.
Jason dug through her flesh with his fingers, crying at the obvious pain that would have caused her and the lack of screams, the lack of color on her beautiful lips. He grabbed the shards of Kryptonite that had dug itself deep into her shoulder and he tossed every trace of it far away, past the plasma walls so they may be lost into space.
Every trace of it. Every rock.
When it slowly started to heal, his breaths slowed. His whole body wanted to just fall. Jason held her face, his tears falling onto N/N’s bloodstained cheeks. The loss of blood out of his hand would soon take its toll. As it long should have.
Jason pressed his forehead on N/N’s, begging that she wake. “Please… Please… N/N… Don’t die on me, Tiger…”
Roy kicked the last of the Kryptonite far off into space.
Then her beautiful, soft lips flushed a faint red.
Her cheeks rose with color. And her chest rose as her lungs filled.
When her eyes opened, no longer did a cruel gaze of red light stare back at him.
It was her. Her eyes.
And they stared at Jason like she’d seen the first of a star’s shine. With it, a trace of confusion. Reprogramming rids her of her memories.
She didn’t know who he was anymore.
But she was alive. She was N/N.
The blood loss didn’t allow him the time to revel. Everything had grown dark before he could speak.
The man that held her fell to the floor before she could say anything.
His hand was gone, soiling the metal grounds with his blood. A red-haired earthling rushed to him at the instant, and the many cyborgs that circled them watched her stand as if she was an unfolding scene to witness. And it was.
Thousands of heartbeats surrounded her. She could hear everything. See everything. And every single heart was frantic at the sight of her like they were afraid. They twitched when she moved and their hearts sped faster.
Her fists tightened, ready to pounce at any wrong slight of hand.
There was a cyborg, one that looked different from the rest, that spoke to her through voices that echoed only in her mind. His skin was dark, with half a face left of what used to be his flesh. An earthling, or he used to be one. His voice, only she could hear, was soothing.
Curiously, N/N took a step to the cyborg.
‘We are not the enemy,’ he whispered to her.
She was right to be skeptical.
But his heartbeat was steady. He had one, beneath all the steel. There was no trace of a lie. Like flashing scenes that took its time to gradually come to her senses, he helped her remember.
There was a bright yellow sun.
Tears. There were tears that seeped out of her. Until there wasn’t.
Everything was red. It was all she could see.
Then there was a man, a cruel man with a cruel mind she could read. That very mind was what spoke to her. A man with green skin, red eyes. And for a while, his was the only voice she could hear.
And it told her to do so much she didn’t want to do. The first order he gave was to take the life of the earthling on the ground, then of the other cyborgs like her, of everything that was a threat to him.
‘He is the enemy,’ the cyborg spoke again. ‘He tortured me, too.’
It only lasted days-the resurfacing memories only a handful.
But she could tell there was more to it.
She looked down and the floor faded from sight. Everything was transparent, like the hearts beneath the steel. Her x-ray vision saw past the many layers down to the ship’s hull, searching for that one, frantic heartbeat of a coward running for his life.
When she caught that very heartbeat, she shot herself into the ground, breaking through those borders like a blast out of a gun. Everything broke to her touch, fragile to hold; nothing was comparable to her might.
There. The heartbeat. A coward’s heartbeat hoping none could see him. He was rushing for a ship. Not this time.
Every wall in her way broke against her fist. With speeds blurring the matter that couldn’t keep up with her sight, she tore through the ship’s innards until she reached the secret hangar.
And the man, the Captain, was hiding by the crates, shaking like a lone pup. He posed no fight even with him thrashing like a child in her hold, when she grabbed him by his cloak’s collar to fly them both miles away from the Station.
Where no eyes could see, where only the twinkling lights from faraway stars could witness her doing, she floated into the airless chasm and looked to the skies for the nearest fiery sun.
The Captain figured what she was doing long after she’d flown them another few million miles for a star, a shining yellow with dangerous flares reaching for this man’s skin to burn it. He pleaded, but no sound could come out of his mouth, not when they were here.
She could only remember so much.
But his eyes were as dark as they were desperate.
They told stories; his voice was the same that’d ordered her mind as if it weren’t her own. They told of years, decades, centuries of torment over people like her. They no longer could hide themselves. The truth wanted to come out by itself.
They told of cruelty.
That was enough of a reason.
He mouthed his pleas to her, gasping for breath when she held him by the neck.
The coward was as good as dead, floating into deep space so helplessly. But he looked into her eyes, and his only bore fear. As if the Martian Captain always knew he’d be staring at them when he dies.
Powerful, blinding beams of red light shot out of her eyes the same as the flaring blasts of the star. It burned the Captain’s flesh that withered away into ash, and the force pushed and threw him into the star’s even more scorching flames. Her heat vision did not stop until his body was no longer to be seen, when it was long lost into the star’s burning core, and the last of his life was nothing more than drifting ash.
There was so much hate, her own cruelties. She woke up and already, the blackness in her soul was the first of the slow-moving thoughts; so much fury she couldn’t even remember. Her eyes had grown dark, even against such a blinding sun.
The beams out of her eyes finally came to a slow halt.
Then there was a second of peace.
With the stars and clouds, the flares that colored the black plane of unending space and hummed a song. No star, even with such a fiery core, could hold that much quietness. It went against everything in her heart that screamed from behind the metal bars of a cage.
How could she remember what they were, even when she had no memory of seeing one before?
She was drifting, floating. The stars had no end no matter where she faced and turned her head. It was a garden, limitless. Some stretched their arms to reach for their brothers, light rays of all colors. Some were clustered in clouds in the deepest shades of lavender petals. Some had drifted from the crowds like they wanted their light to show for themselves.
They called for her to calm, whispering for her heart to slow and her thoughts to rest from such a race.
Then she was tired.
Even with such strength, she fell limp.
Then her eyes were too heavy.
So she closed them, listened to the star’s humming of the song only they knew the melody of. Sometimes, when they wanted to, she heard a note play out like they sung. Everything was quiet and black. She didn’t feel the pair of arms that took her away.
It didn’t take much to wake him.
Perhaps it had been days of staring at the shadows beneath his eyelids, counting the hours of the overhead bulbs coming to a dim. He didn’t count them literally. He just knew it’d been a while. The voices changed, too. And the feel of hands that often turned his arm around.
It started when the shadows burned red, the way it did when closed eyes looked up at fluorescents. Then came the feeling of his toes and fingers that wriggled and twitched, his lips that chapped, his chest that hurt after every breath.
Finally, when breathing wasn’t too much of a pain, Jason opened his eyes.
On top of his bedside, his Red Hood helmet watched him wake.
The quietness was eerie. Somehow his head made up an ever-playing note from a key he didn’t know where from. The infirmary was a busy room, but that time, no one had anything to speak of. Not even his friend, Roy, asleep on a thin chair just at his cot’s side. When Jason sat up, already, Roy was awake.
“Thank fuck, Todd,” he gasped when the surprise died down. “Thought you were actually dead this time.”
“My seat in hell’s been long overdue, but I’m not taking it anytime soon.”
“Spare me the death jokes,” Roy gently slapped his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“You’ve been conscious?”
“Barely. But nothing hurts too much anymo-“
He should have figured why the passing wind on his left hand wasn’t as gentle on his right. But it didn’t take until he actually saw his own fingers for it to sink in.
“Yeah, uhm,” Roy gulped, “your hand-“
“I know. I remember.”
It looked impressive.
A cybernetic hand. Skin-like touch feedback. Stainless black steel and rods that folded when he stretched his fingers.
“Looks cool though,” Roy said.
“You’d say that if it weren’t you.”
“Don’t be. I blew up her arm once before. We’re even now.”
The cycling debt finally stops.
Really. Don’t apologize. He’ll have to deal with a lot of sorry’s and pitiful looks possibly for the rest of his life. But he was more looking forward to the children gawping at how awesome his robot hand was.
Soft, feathery sheets against his fingers were all the same. He ran his new hand over the surface until it warmed.
“Where’s Vic?”
Roy pointed to a few beds behind them. Vic was sitting upright, talking to the Fleet surgeon with a bag held to his head. He smiled and waved at Jason when their eyes met.
“And N/N?”
Roy didn’t look too worried, at least. Better than what was worst. “Can you walk?”
Jason stretched out his toes and followed his friend down the hallways the Fleet already had repaired. “Ora’s leading the Fleet for now,” Roy told him. “We’re safe here.”
“What happened to N/N?”
They had to go to the Station’s lower decks, through many doors before they got to a holding area with a glass window, and behind that window was a prison cell for a very specific prisoner.
A red sun prison; that had to be what glowed from a compacted star they contained just above the glass dome. No one else was inside, and even outside the dome, it was locked.  
But they could see what went on inside.
And she was there. N/N. She looked calm, quiet, peaceful. Sitting upright on the floor with her back against the glass. To just run to her, hold her; it would have been too easy.
“They said she gets more violent when she recovers from reprogramming.”
“She’s always violent,” Jason snorted.
“Yeah, this time she almost killed a hundred guards when they tried to contain her. The place is lined with lead, so she can't even see or hear out of these walls.”
“She’s just confused. And afraid.”
He couldn’t look away. Not from her glowing eyes. This time, full of life, full of feeling, even with it being darkness. But distant.
“She can't remember a thing…”
When he said that, it only cemented what he wanted so badly to slip from his mind. “She was so afraid this would happen again,” Jason longingly whispered, hoping she was listening.
Roy slapped his shoulder. “Well, you're in luck. It won't last. She’ll remember you.  She’ll remember everything soon.”
He was about to scowl at his friend’s delusional attempt to comfort him before Roy grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Ora told me to tell you. You know how N/N can record everything she sees?” Roy stuck his finger to Jason’s head. “Turns out that Martian dude was a secret hoarder because he just took out the recorded memories from her head so she could be his puppet, but he never got rid of any of them. It’s all stored in the archives they found days ago. Why else do you think Z’arr knew so much about her that nobody else did?”
The soul in him must have gone for a time, because something filled his body like a cold gust of a storm.
“Don’t play with me, Harper.”
“I’m not.”
They didn’t know. They didn’t know what this meant to her; how this changes everything.
How much her eyes stepped out from the shadows as each day they spent together passed.
Her past. Her identity. What she longed to know.
And to think that could be brought back? After the many dark days he sulked in a scratchy infirmary cot, pretending to be unconscious? Because the thought of N/N forgetting everything was so hard to even think about?
Jason was already reaching for her, and even that he didn’t notice. When his palm cooled against the glass, her voice was all he could hear. ‘I could never forget you.’
She said it so reassuringly, like there had never been anything more of a truth.
Just as Jason couldn’t forget her. Not even after decades worth of his antics.
They didn’t know what he and N/N made, what they went through, and promised to remember; when they were alone, the silences and bickers, the stars that watched them and the journey of a lifetime.
Maybe she can have all that.
Without him.
“What if,” Jason whispered, “what if she doesn’t have to…”
What if she can remember the smiles, but not who was behind it?
There was that rage he recognized from the first time they met, the rage that came with fear. But her heart wasn’t hurt, not like how it was going to be.
‘Don’t forget me.’
‘I wish I could.’
What heartaches was she spared from? How many tubs of tears ceased now that Jason wasn’t so much as a distant memory?
She can remember everything else; the journey, the stars, their discoveries. Just not him.
Ora walked into the waiting cell. In her hands, a holographic clipboard. N/N’s anatomy was on display with letters he couldn’t recognize.
“Roy must have told you the news by now. I think we can transfer her recorded memories by today-“
“Can you leave out a few things?” Jason interjected. “Like choose the memories to give back to her?”
“Of course,” Ora said.
“Don’t let her remember me.”
He might as well have told them he wanted to jump out the window. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jason turned to Ora. “Leave out as many recordings you have of me. That’s only four months. She wouldn’t miss it.”
“Yes, she will,” Ora exclaimed. “You don’t get to decide what she wants to remember.”
“She won't want to remember me if she doesn’t even know.”
Roy felt no differently. “You’re being delusional, Todd.”
“I’m not.”
The sight of her alone, unknowing. There was that slight of innocence he didn’t want stripped away.
She was right all those weeks ago. It should have just been one night. It should have been less, much less than that.
“We’re finally going home, Harper,” he held his friend’s arm, “and I’m never gonna see her again.”
Roy’s face fell. He always understood.
“I just don’t want her to get hurt anymore…”
This could be salvation. From him. From how scared she was of getting hurt; how long he had to wait before she finally gave in against what she thought she wanted.
And he knew for a fact that N/N once wished Jason never should have happened.
There will never be a greater length of pain. But at least it would all be on him. This could be his turn to save her.
“Can I talk to her?” Jason said, holding back the flooding throb in his throat. “Just to say goodbye.”
She wasn’t stable. She was a machine being contained before she tears the whole place apart.
But it was an act of pity, a charity case with it a risk of his own life. Ora opened the gates to let him pass. Hesitantly, Jason stepped in with his heart tucked away, frozen stiff when almost immediately, N/N watched him move like a hawk.
He wasn’t anything more to her than a potential threat. He had to be careful.
N/N walked slowly to the glass like a defensive lioness. Even with no weapons, she looked dangerous. Her eyes were darker now that they were hooded, like she wanted the shadows on them. He never realized she did that on purpose to look even more threatening.
Jason hoped the glass between them was thicker than it looked. Through the filtered audio, her voice echoed out a speaker at the side.
“Let me out of here.”
“I’m not one of them,” Jason shakily gulped. “I’m not the staff.”
She eyed his robot hand but didn’t question it. Jason tried to ignore the coldness in her voice that stabbed him with every word. “Then what are you doing here?”
“I just came to talk.”
About what? He didn’t even know. He didn’t even think he’d get this far.
There was nothing else in her red sun prison but a small cot. “Don’t worry,” Jason said, “you’ll be out soon.”
Didn’t look like she believed a word he said. That would be logical. And completely within her mindset.
When N/N studied him down to his toes, Jason emptied his pockets and hunched so he wouldn’t look threatening even to a fly, though that was hard to do.
“You're an earthling.”
“Yes,” he shrugged.
“And you broke my grip.”
For a second, his throat closed up. “You remember that?”
“Down to the reprogramming and almost beating you to death more than once, I do.”
She watched Jason closely, leaning against the glass and folding her arms over her chest. Her eyes were almost black squinting at him.
“Impressive,” she breathed.
She probably couldn’t even hear his heartbeat and still, anyone could smell how he nervous out of his mind. He only ever witnessed such hostility one other time, and it was from nobody different.
“Are you here to interrogate me?”
“No,” he chuckled, “what would I interrogate you for?”
“You said you came here to talk.”
“Not for an interrogation.”
“Then what the hell did you come here to talk about?”
He shrugged. “Nothing specific.”
That set her off.
“I don’t have time for this-“ She scoffed with the slight filter in her voice prolonged with a sigh, then she turned for her cot.
“You got better things to do?”
She looked awfully close to breaking the glass with her fist.
“Get out of here.”
“Can't exactly do much about that, Tiger.”
Then she actually did try to break the glass, but the red sun didn’t allow her the strength and it just shook violently when her hands slammed against the dome.
“I will smother you with your own tongue if you call me that again.”
She probably didn’t expect him to smile, or at the very least laugh. All Jason did was lick his lips, watch her face move, and grin at what was supposed to be so terrifying. Turns out she didn’t even have to remember much to be inherently mean.
“What the hell are you laughing at?” She growled.
“Nothing.” Just that you’ve said that to me every day for four months and it gets funnier each time.
The throaty breath out of her lips, the gritting hostility that stayed even in her sleep; she was exactly how she used to be when they first met.
She was back. Even without her memories. Now he could look into her eyes and see who he fell for.
“Stop looking,” she groaned. Jason bashfully darted his eyes down. She huffed. “Did I know you before?”
It would have been so easy to slip, fall to his knees and tell her the stories and places they’ve gone; to just burst out the memories he could recite so easily. He at least had to be careful.
“You did.”
He snorted. “Ally.”
She didn’t like him much so far. That was fine. The fake nod looked too awfully trusting, which meant she didn’t.
“Maybe even friends.”
That seemed to surprise her.
“You don’t have to look so offended.” Jason smiled again. N/N distracted herself with the red sun and everything else around the room so she didn’t have to look at him.
“You know I won't trust a word you say until they give me my memories back,” she cocked her jaw. “So I’ll be the judge of that.”
As you should, Tiger.
“Sure,” he coughed. His tight throat should have been enough to kill him. “Yeah, you will.”
Like she studied his words and every stress in his voice, N/N stepped closer with her head to the side. “You didn’t like earthlings much,” he said, “but you didn’t hate me too bad. At least eventually.”
N/N stepped away from the shadows that blackened her eyes so the color would show. Her face softened. Her arms fell. She stepped closer as if she wanted to check that truth even more. She can check all she wants.
This must be it. The end of a whirlwind.
Reaching for her face, holding it in his hand while his thumb fluttered over her cheeks; thankfully the glass was there to stop that.
“I came to say goodbye,” he shakily confessed. “I know you don’t remember, but I didn’t want to just disappear.”
That didn’t shake her. Or even startle her. She just darted to Jason’s shoes, then back up to his eyes. With her fingers tapping on her arm as if to think skeptically, N/N breathed.
“Friends, huh?”
He almost spilled. “Yeah.”
“Anything I should know about you?”
Anyone with a brain or any sense at all would know that the look on his face and his bit back smile said anything but. His whole demeanor screamed otherwise.
“There’s not much to remember about me,” he swallowed. “They’ll probably just leave it out. Don’t worry about it.”
Something just tip him over.
“Bye,” he choked out.
All N/N did was nod; didn’t seem to bother having anything else to say.
Jason went for the gates before the aching would have been too hard to conceal. Whatever was left of his heart, he crushed it himself.
If he went in there to at least have half the fulfillment to make things better, he was miles away from that. Who the fuck was he kidding?
There was no saying goodbye to her now.
Years-worth of memories restored in a night. They sat her down, stuck a tube to her head, and waited. He couldn’t bear to watch when at the end of it, N/N’s eyes shot open and looked around without so much as giving him a second look.
From the safety of an overlooking window, above the cockpit where the view of the whole main deck was beneath their feet, Jason and Roy had settled into the cold enough that none of it was a bother. Neither was the inherent darkness the same as the blank night sky. They cleared the hangar enough for all crew members to crowd about. Some were on ships hovering over the plasma, like boxed rooms of an opera house. The thousands of cyborgs lined on the main deck, of all species and sizes with voices they’d have to try hard to even recognize. There were screams, cheers, some cried out N/N’s name like a plea they’ve held in for so long. That day was a celebration, but it wasn’t for her, it was from the whole Fleet and what they’d just been saved from.
In the upper deck just a floor above, like a stage that overlooked the crowd, was the subject of such a feast. They deemed her safe and stable the minute she remembered everything, down to her beginnings in Krypton, her capture, her limbs torn replaced by machinery, and every horror faced from the deceased Z’arr Z’eran.
And perhaps it was just that why they decided on this feat. If anything, they should have done this sooner.
N/N, Captain of the Fleet, stepped out onto the platform like a shining beacon and the roars were thunderous. At her side, Captains Ora and Aya, who’d sworn to lead by her side as equals. They raised their fists in a salute and the whole ship returned with cries of their names.
N/N’s speech beamed of victorious pride. “We will honor the late Captain J’orr Z’eran,” she said, “his beliefs will be what the Fleet will stand for once again from this day forth.”
They’d recovered J’orr’s body from Zuron days ago. After her speech, they looked out to the starboard side where a steel coffin covered in decorative engravings, the language of the Martians, was being pushed out into the plasma walls. Through small thrusters that attached themselves to its back, they raised their fists as the coffin drifted into space.
“Z’arr’s damage will take years to fix.”
“What does she mean by J’orr’s beliefs?” Roy asked Jason amid the muffled cries of the crowd. They’d drowned them out, but they couldn’t stop watching.
“They’ll stop replacing good body parts for enhancement,” Jason said. “Instead, they’ll give it to whoever needs help, like the disabled, and take in people from around the galaxy who need a home. No one will ever have to be reprogrammed.”  
“But they’re still pirates,” Roy chuckled.
“I never could get her to stop with the stealing,” Jason held back a gentle laugh from the memory. “It’s like breathing to them.”
The crowds parted when they walked down the platform to meet with their crew members: their line of subordinates and advisors, their First Mates, Quartermasters, Sailing Masters, and Gunners. N/N did not smile, and through her pursed lips, Jason could see the underlying fear that had always been there from the beginning. He wanted to go up and tell her how everything was going to be okay, that she was going to be the best damn Captain this Fleet’s ever seen. That he was so proud of what she’d become.
“Jay,” Roy interjected his longing gazes, “don’t you think she deserves to be with her own kind?”
“What do you mean?”
“Clark. Kara. How many Kryptonians even exist?” Roy excitedly exclaimed. “She should be with them. It’s the closest she has to family.”
There was that fear, of course; the same as when they watched N/N fly to the stars and lift crates with just a finger. But each time she went up to a cyborg with a frail leg and one who was so afraid to even speak, it was apparent she did not want to rule by fear, like Z’arr did. She wanted to lead by trust and honor to the thousands who’ve suffered like her.
And those very beings they thought to be the enemy, reduced to being robots and cyborgs when really, they were people torn from their homes and identity, people like them.
“She’s already with her kind.”
Jason watched her raise her fist, and everyone around her cheered along.
“She’s not just a Kryptonian anymore, Roy. She has as much in common with Clark and Kara as she does with us.”
The tortures she spoke of were not only endured by her. Every single cyborg in their crew knew of Z’arr’s cowardly cruelty, and have gone through it themselves.
“She’s a cyborg, too. Her kind has to be the people who know exactly what it’s like to be her, who she knows she can help. She belongs here. With them. These people need her.”
Some even more than others. Some who’d escaped the chilling process of being turned into androids for Brainiac had been restored as much as possible. There were others who could not be saved, some too scarred in the head to be recovered. Z’arr’s damage was too great.
But she can try to fix what she can.
“I once asked her to come with me to Earth,” Jason quietly whispered. “That was wrong.”
His friend squeezed his shoulder. “It’s not wrong to ask, Jaybird.”
But it was.
If only the thought of its magnitude comes into clear, which it only just did for him.
Things will be difficult for the lot of them. But for her own good, for her freedom, it was the least they could do.
“No one on Earth can know about her, Roy.”
Roy was about to object, understandably, but a look at Jason’s face and already, he knew what he was talking about.
“You remember how they reacted to Superman,” he said, and perhaps that was all he needed to say. “Everyone was so afraid of what he could do that they wanted him contained. They didn’t even want him to exist, and all he tried to do was the right thing.”
N/N flew off the hangar to the hovering ships to wave at the men in the cockpits. There was a glint of a smile, and it was brighter than even the stars.
“How do you think they’ll react to yet another god-like Kryptonian? Humanity’s ego is so fragile that they’ll want to destroy anything they know they could never go up against, when they don’t have the higher ground, no matter what they intend. Luthor will convince everyone she’s a threat and the whole planet will want control over her, even worse once they find out what they can do when they hack into her brain,
“They can never control her like Z’arr did. She has to be free.”
And she already was. This was her first to a lifetime of freedom.
And nothing could make him happier than seeing just that; to see her soaring into the stars as if she could take one in her hand, it was all he could wish for and nothing more.
Perhaps to soar with her, but it will all be alright. He should be.
“You can stay behind you know,” Roy said, “I mean you’re already halfway there.”
Roy nudged his robot hand and Jason playfully pushed his shoulder.
“Shut up, Harper,” he laughed.
And to that, as if on cue, Victor Stone knocked on the wall to call onto them. “I got the transmits,” he said. “Most of them, anyway. They did come from two million light years away.”
The first was just half a message in encrypted code weeks ago when Cyborg was still in captivity. It was a signal from the Watchtower, blasted to cross planets just to have some sense of their location. When Z’arr did experiments on Vic enough that his transmitter had ten times its power, he got the first one.
Just that week, when he was strong enough, Vic sought out to find more, out of the trillions of transmitted signals from this galaxy to the next.
And to say the least, they were terrified. Jason especially. Days ago, Roy got the first five encrypted voice messages from Oliver and Dinah and it took half a day for the man to stop crying.
Months ago, Jason was so quick to believe Bruce never even gave him so much as a thought, much less look for him. Didn’t even try to find out if he was wrong.
And how wrong he was.
Today, Vic got twenty-two messages from all of Bruce’s six satellites, the Watchtower, the Bat Computer, Wayne Industries, and another four transmitters from different parts of Earth he didn’t even know about.
And those were only the ones he found.
Vic sat him down and gave him a small decoder the size of a Walkman with earpieces.
Then he was alone.
Except perhaps for the stars out the window. But they kept their silence.
‘Jason,’ Bruce voice shakily echoed, ‘if you’re still alive out there, I hope you’re getting this...’
He couldn’t even face the stars for this.
The message played. There was but darkness when his eyes no longer could hold themselves open. Every part of him wanted to fall.
Just halfway through the first one, he stopped, and those shut eyes were already so flooded with his tears.
They didn’t even need a ship to get to Earth.
Vic was figuring out the math to boom tube them back home himself. Saves them the trouble. And the time. Travelling two-million light years was no easy feat.
But anytime now. Perhaps within the day, they’ll be back home.
It ends their journey. As differently as it turned out, it ends at any minute.
At the Station’s port side, a long and wide hallway stretched out from each end. It was empty, not to connect any rooms or training halls, or even to house the many prison cells they seemed to have.
It was a viewing deck.
It stretched almost a mile long. There were no lights. No sounds from the outside. It was dark, secluded, and almost always empty.
Nothing but the field of flowers in the forms of gas giants and twinkling lights shed light to the hallway.
Jason found comfort in that seclusion and silence. It was like watching rainfall from a roofed balcony in his apartment, except it wasn’t the city lights or neon signs that painted the night. Instead, it was Andromeda’s beautiful stretch of star clusters, planets, a spiral the same as bubbling whirlpool on an ocean. But it was silent. Not a word out of those beings.
He stood far enough away from the exits to hear the footsteps come and leave before being seen. But it must have been the stars that pulled him, distracted him enough that he couldn’t hear her coming.
But not even that was enough for his selfishness begging him to stay. He pretended it was alright when N/N joined his quiet star-gazing. He only saw her face from the reflection. Still, he forced himself not to stare too much.
“I thought you’d leave by now,” she said. “You did come to say goodbye.”
“Delay in transportation,” he snorted, “we’re waiting for the next bus.”
She did not smile.
But there was that twitch in the corner of her mouth that even with just a glimpse of her eyes, the fear had subsided for just a while. And she was living in the now.
Jason did not, for his own sake, want to talk to her any more.
Every word out of N/N was like a piece of him being skinned and torn. It hurt to even be beside her.
“I have to go,” he backed away, heading for wherever. “Nice seeing you again.”
For his own sake. For everyone’s sake. Leave before your weakness breaks you apart and everything you promised falls like a dying star.
His hands were shaking amid the darkness. There was no use hiding it. Not with her. He could never hide that. Not when she listened to his heart like a song.
“I could never forget you…” she called to him.
Then the star fell.
As did everything else he thought was so strong.
Perhaps it was never according to him.
He was hooked by the lights, by her gravity. He couldn’t move even his fingers at the instant she spoke. Everything came to a painful halt and it took too long before his demons pushed him to turn around.
N/N was frozen, too; didn’t grab to hold him like the cosmos must have wanted her. Instead, she was glass, trembling like it quaked.
“H-how…” Jason’s throat closed up and swelled. “You didn’t…”
“I didn’t have to hear your heartbeat to know you lied.”
A stretch of selfishness always was all it took to topple what he once thought to be so indestructible. Such as she. Nothing could break her. Not even him.
Suddenly the space that stood between them was as great as a galaxy. And it stayed that way. She didn’t exactly come rushing to hold him just like that.
“I-I,” he shook, “N/N, I’m sorry-“
“When they left you out of my memories, half my life blacked out,” she angrily exclaimed, “I couldn’t even remember meeting you.”
“N/N, I-“
“I had to go through the archives myself. I had to make myself remember you. You said you didn’t want anyone to control me anymore, so why did you?”
Ripped. Torn. Burnt into ash.
As if the shame hadn't already clouded so much of the guilt. What possibly led him to believe she couldn’t hear one little conversation when she could hear blood vessels bursting?
Like his probably were. Suddenly he didn’t crave the silence so much anymore.
“You couldn’t make me forget you if you tried.”
Perhaps a turn for the worst was a turn for the best.
If she hated him, it would be easier on him, too. But Jason didn’t want her to hate him.
“I’m so sorry,” his voice trailed into mumbles, “I just wanted you to be okay.”
“How is this okay?”
It wasn’t.
It was never okay.
To just take a step back and never return. Perhaps that would have spared him the many months of his own self-torment thinking of what could have been. She should have just flown away.
Because it was Jason who couldn’t handle the hurt, who didn’t want to miss her when she left. And he thought, for a time, that if he had the chance to wipe her out of his memories, he would.
But all it took was a glimpse of N/N’s trembling eyes, her foot that took just an inch of a step back, and he knew that wasn’t at all what he wanted.
He wanted those memories to remind him of a universe that stood just beyond the clouds, the vastness of the galaxy and the next, of the stars so bright his eyes could never see through.
He wanted to go to bed and hurt, longing for her touch, than to live without the tears or ever knowing how that touch felt.
All it took for her was a whisper of her name, then N/N rushed to hold him like every wrongdoing was so easily forgiven.
Oftentimes Jason Todd thought so much of himself that he dictates what he thought to be other’s best. He leaves even when he was wanted. He runs to distances where no one could reach out to him.
But perhaps selfishness outweighs the avoidance of hurt, sometimes, especially when that hurt stemmed from moments of long-forgotten happiness.
The silence was no more, and as they held each other in such an embrace. All the stars in the galaxy sang at once like a choir’s angelic note. The song of the skies, what was so serene and calm, that no matter the fiery flares that burned within them, the peace resonated to any body that stood below them.
And when their arms finally did part, their lips were next to meet. Between the whispers of apologies so easily granted and passed, the tenderness of her touch built up what had so easily been torn down. All the wishes for selflessness and what he thought to be right, masked over by the undefeatable power of her hands that melted. Their lips slowed, strengthened when a distance seemed to creep in. But nothing more, not even the interstellar beings, could stand between them.
Then it calmed, at least for a while. With numb lips, N/N pressed her forehead against his nose. She was so gentle, even with her so infinitely strong.
“You are the adventure that made my whole life, Tiger,” he kissed her palm. “No one else can say the same.”
“Maybe not on Earth,” she hummed.
Six planets. Countless space stations. A billion stars.
No one else could have taken him to the ends of the universe like she did.
“Ask me to stay,” he told her. He’ll deal with the consequences later.
But N/N’s smile was almost lost, her hand falling to lay against his chest. Your family. Your home.
“You belong on Earth,” she whispered, “and I belong here.”
And that was okay.
Everything will be okay.
“What if I loved you?” he sang, like he was one of the stars.
“You’ll get over me,” she smiled as Jason just rolled his eyes at her.
He whispered: “It’ll take a while. I mean it did take three whole months just to warm up to you.”
Perhaps no one else, for all of her existence, could see the same smile out of her as he just did.  “I don’t have to get over you, though” Jason shrugged. “I can just live with it.”
When N/N reached for his hand, touching the metal that was no longer his skin, she sighed to let her year-long apologies endlessly flow before he stepped in and kissed her again. It’s alright, he whispered. Having a metal hand won't be so bad.
Then he held them up.
His steel hand pressed gently to match her steel hand so they were lit by the stars. It was just a glimpse into the depths of knowing what it was like to be her, but it felt closer. That was more than he could have asked for.
“Will you get over me?” he asked.
All she could stare at was their hold, like the waves that ebbed between them were an unsuspecting gravity.
“No,” N/N confessed, and her words, he will never forget. “I don’t think I will.”
She will, to some extent.
But the selfish parts of him that flourished wanted to believe her. Then she found his ocean eyes that could never look away.
“Because you taught me how to love.” Her fingers fell between the spaces in his hands. “You made me see the stars,” she cried. “You brought me the stars. Thank you.”
To Jason, it wasn’t that. She was the one who took him to the many moons and not once did he think to look back.
“Why would I ever want to forget you?” N/N said, her thumb brushing under his eyes.
I could never forget you.
Even if remembering you hurts.
He couldn’t bare not to kiss her again, like every minute he wasn’t hurt and tore out his skin.
Just one more night.
They were in for a world, a whole lifetime of hurt. They were ready for the inevitable, for what waited out there that was a limitless life. To the many more places that called their name and the countless voices they were yet to hear.
And even when it meant they couldn’t spend it together, it didn’t mean there had to be an end.
Just one more night. A moment’s bliss that outweighed a lifetime’s consequence and hurt.
It will all be okay.
In her cabin that continued the familiar darkness, where a lone window allowed them at least a speck of light, Jason carried her to bed, her legs hugging his hips without plans to part.
The galaxy was no different from swirling hurricanes, only that the winds were peaceful, and they only ever brought light without destruction. That very galaxy swirled within them, like the pull of oceans and waterfalls. He shed his clothes, almost ripped hers apart. Then he was kissing every part of her that needed to be cherished, to light her skin like gold and diamonds.
It will all be okay.
His hand did wonders to the static in her body, curling just enough for the sweetest mewls to escape her lips. N/N sank her teeth deep into his neck, inhaling the darkness and the dim blue from out the skies. Then he replaced his hands with his lips between her legs, his tongue, moving inside her to rip out an avalanche of blinding lightness. She could only grab onto his hair, hold tightly onto his arms while they ravaged her body. And on her clit, her sweet rose, Jason played it like a song.
Then he hovered over her, moved inside her. He memorized the feeling of her legs bent almost up to her chest, hugging his sides just so she could feel him deeper. He wanted to be within her, to be just one, then the galaxies moved to be just like a storm. N/N tried, as her senses screamed at her, to lay quietly.
But as Jason sank into her deep enough to have played the riveting chords to its limits, a sudden cry for her throat echoed out into the silence. It was so animalistic, so indiscernible; she can feel embarrassed about it later. No longer did that stop; no longer could she hold herself back. His lips were all over her jaw, her face, while she thrashed beneath him.
It will all be okay.
It was just one more night.
But it lasted an eternity.
She laid asleep, finally having the peace she always wanted.
All night, Jason ran the fingers of his good hand down her head, the curves on her face that rested on his lap, as he sat upright to face the stars.
She destroyed the star he thought had the gravity to hold on.
But a new one took its place. So much stronger than he ever could have done himself.
Jason was strong.
He pulled out the transmitter from his discarded jacket, kept his hand on N/N’s face to never let go of that new-found strength, and put the earpieces on. Twenty-two messages. He had the night.
His eyes were on her as Jason pressed play.
‘Jason. If you’re still alive out there, I hope you get this.
Just yesterday, we declared you, Roy, and Victor missing. You’re not on Earth. I checked five times.
Which means there’s a 0.01% you’ll get this within the year. If you are getting this, it’s been 30 hours since the Watchtower invasion.  
We saw Victor being brought out by the pirates themselves, so that at least puts him in their location. We just have to find out where that is. If you're with him and Roy Harper, stay together.
Don’t worry. We’ll find you. We’re doing whatever we can about this Fleet. Just stay alive. I know you can do that.’
‘Jason. I sent this from one of my satellites. If you get this, please let me know. Doesn’t matter how. So I’ll use the transmitter that does best. By the time I’m recording this, it’s been a week since you disappeared. I’ve turned to Hal to alert the Lanterns. Some of them who are willing to help told me you’re nowhere within the sector, so that places you far enough away that the chances of you getting this message is at 0.00001%.
But don’t worry, I just need you to stay alive. Just stay alive. Don’t do anything stupid. Christ, I know you will. Just don’t do anything stupid enough to get yourself killed.
I’m sorry.
This isn’t going to be like last time. I’m going to find you…
I won't be too late this time.
I promise.’
‘Jason, I…
The last time I saw you, I told you to get out of Gotham.
I was so mad at you’ve done. But I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I want you back here, Jason. Everyone is out there looking for you. Gotham still needs you.
I need you.
We’ve stretched out to almost a lightyear’s radius from Earth. You’re not here. I don’t even know if we’re in the same galaxy. I don’t know where you are. I’m running out of options and I’m too proud to admit that.
But I’m not giving up. I don’t think I ever will.
I gave up too soon the last time. I thought it was too late. But I won't be anymore.
Please, for the love of God, stay alive. We’ll find you.
Okay, son?’
Hey, lil brother. Guess who convinced B to spend another million dollars to send a message into space?
It’s Dick by the way. If you're not in the mood to guess.
I won't apologize for anything cuz you wouldn’t say sorry unless it’s the end. It won't be the end. I’m going with Kori tomorrow to search the next sector and try to send a transmit there. Maybe it’ll send and you’ll actually get it.
If you are getting this, I’m begging you to be smart enough to come home on your own. Promise someone you’ll pay them for a ride and bill it to Bruce when you get here. I swear you’ll live another day after that.
I don’t think I’ve seen Bruce like this since… well… since the last time…
Bruce is worried you're dead. But I don’t think that. I’ve never met anyone who’s cheated death as much as you. I don’t think that’s changing anytime soon.
I love you, Jay. I don’t say that enough.
‘Jason. It’s Tim.
I did the math on the boom tubes from when the Watchtower picked up their energy signatures. Took me all of four weeks, but I did it.
No one’s happy about it, though. For once, I wish I was wrong.
You’re not in the solar system. You’re not in the quadrant. You’re nowhere near earth that any of us would be fast enough to get to you before we disintegrate.
I’ll keep with the math. Maybe I’m not as smart as I think I am and I’m actually wrong this time.
I’ll invent a transmitter strong enough to get to you. Maybe I’ll summon a boom tube myself.
I’ll figure something out. Don’t die.’
‘Barbara Gordon here. Message for Jason Todd. If anyone else is picking up this message, please stop listening.
Jason. I know you enough that you wouldn’t think we’d care. But if only you can see just what you left behind...
Bruce hasn’t been out on patrol for a week.
That’s never happened before.
It started when Tim figured out just how far the boom tube ended. The nearest you could have gone is twenty quintillion kilometers away.
That narrows it down, right?
It’s almost impossible to send anything to get you.
But Bruce isn’t going to stop, Jason. Everyone believes in you. We all know you’ll stop at nothing to survive.
I believe in you, too.
When you get back here, you tell me everything.’
My birthday was last week. You were the only one who wasn’t here at the Manor. They surprised me, of course. I would never ask for such festivities myself.
It was the first time in months I’ve seen any of them smile.
I never told anyone, but I’ve guilted myself into thinking this was my fault.
You were saving me that day, from that cyborg woman with the swords. I saw you fall into the same boom tube as her. I hope you’ve done what I know you’re capable of and ended her. I know I would if I was in your place. She took you away from us. That’s unacceptable.
I don’t want to fall into sentiments, Todd.
But remember when you and I only just got to warm up to each other? And you promised you’ll take me to the Alps one day cuz you said I could meditate better?
Yeah. Well. Don’t break that promise.
This is Damian by the way.’
I’m so sorry, son.
I failed you.
I failed you again.
I don’t know how many times this has to happen.
But maybe the worst mistake I ever made was argue with you so much when I was granted a second chance at being your father. You came back to life. That should have been enough for me to never give up on you.
But I think I’m too late. Again. Everyone else has told me to stop with the delusions.
“Master Bruce, it’s almost six am, please come to bed.”
“I will, Alfred. Just hold on.”
You would be the one to tell me I’m being delusional.
I don’t want to give up on you. You don’t deserve to be given up on. You deserve to be saved when it isn’t too late.
But the chances of you even hearing this… I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you again.
If you are out there, I hope you at least know I love you, son.
I will never, ever give up on you.’
“I love you, too,” Jason hummed, leaving the tears to fall, “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m coming home.”
They summoned the boom tube not long after the night.
He wanted her a glimpse of his home, the epic end to their ventures, so Jason took her hand just before he took the first of his final steps.
The boom tube’s light was then a place to step into, a momentary blindness that caused no pain nor danger. It was the end of the song, the end of the stars’ choir. Jason did not let go of her hand until the light subsided.
Then her eyes feasted themselves on the warm, orange sunset that greeted them. They were on a cliff, just atop a blue ocean, and the trees whistled a bright hello.
“What do you think?” he sang, holding N/N in his arms as the sunset fell dim.
“Not bad,” she said, “not bad at all.”
It took all his strength not to crumble when he had her face in his hands. But the tears were no more. So long as they knew everything to be alright.
“Thanks for the adventure, Tiger.”
The name made her kiss him, just once more. Each time, he wished it wasn’t the last.
“This isn’t the end,” he whispered. “Come visit when you can.”
Another kiss.
This time, it was the last.
Hopefully for now.
She stayed for as long as time would allow her, basking under the gorgeous sunset that serenaded them.
Then the clock chimed.
A world of hurt.
And he was more than willing to go through it all.
“I’ll see you around,” N/N winked at him, just before their arms slid apart and she stepped back into the portal.
Then it closed between them.
Then, just like that,
They were two million light years apart.
The lonely path could only last so long. He’ll tell himself that. No matter how long it will take to be true. Jason didn’t leave the cliffside until the sun had gone.
This void, one so familiar, was infinite.
And so it was, even if there could be, at some point, an end.
At the end of the night’s patrol, she hovered over the Station to join Captains Ora and Aya for their reports. The stars were peaceful that day and they hoped for the same on the next one. Once they find a new planet to call home, hopefully the peace would last.
N/N found herself in the lower decks that night, where they stored the unused ships.
The Dragonfly had long been abandoned by its once eventful life, but its soul remained. “Rest easy, old girl,” N/N lulled it to sleep, with a hand over the dented Transport Pod.
Then she looked out the window beside it so large, it stretched beyond the ceiling. Her eyes were all over the sky.
At the clusters of stars that moved and wandered, at the clouds that danced in the airless void, at the constellations and twinkling patterns one could never unsee.
Every night, the skies were different. Every night, she made sure to look outside.
That night, what called to her in a song, was the Milky Way. From lightyears apart, they faced each other.
‘N/N,’ he once told her while the desert sands bothered her nose. ‘That sounds like a nickname.’
‘It’s a codename,’ she insisted.
‘Not where I’m from. Back on Earth, your real name would be Y/N.’
No longer M-812.
But Y/N.
Y/N Todd.
Nice ring to it.
Her head fell against the glass, then she closed her eyes.
That was her name now.
And it was beautiful.
Gotham’s bustling was something he never thought he’d have to get used to. Or even miss.
There wasn’t an inch in the city that would ever be as quiet as space. In his mind, perhaps, he can have that silence again.
Jason Todd sat atop one of the gargoyles on the Gotham Clocktower, with his arm lazy on his bent knee and his other leg dangerously swinging below to the harsh winds.
Much like the galaxies, the lights of the city towers, the skyscrapers, the neon signs, and voices painted the night like a canvas. It harbored its own beauty, boasted its own kind of song. Though less of a quiet hum, it was riveting all the same.
The lightless sky, however, felt as empty as it looked.
So Jason turned the dial on his helmet to rid his view of the light pollution.
Suddenly that empty night sky bloomed in a meadow of unmoving stars, smiling as if they danced. There were comets, flying meteors, dust clouds that huffed, and the Milky Way Galaxy’s many sights so often unseen.
Even with him so far, the night sky remained.
From lightyears away, he zoomed into the Andromeda Galaxy and its unending grace. Nothing else shined brighter, not when he was looking at her.
She was the galaxy and more.
He installed it just then, so nothing would stand in the way from seeing her
Jason let the wind pass him, a gentle tap on his shoulder to remind him of greater things to follow.
“Red Hood,” his comms went up.
“Yeah, B?”
“I’m off to the suburbs just a few miles out of Gotham. Got a tip for a warehouse that might lead us to more of Falcone’s stash.”
“Need help?”
Bruce sighed: “Just you and me. If you’re up for it.”
“Sure,” he hoped his smile wasn’t too obvious. “I’ll meet you there.”
Sometimes, he needed at least just a gentle reminder that he was lucky to be alive at all. Or, more accurately, that he was alive again.
Jason Todd sure had one hell of a second life.
And for the rest of it, Andromeda will be there to follow, to watch him with its limitless light.
“Being lost is worth the being found.”
-          Neil Diamond
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37 notes · View notes
ragingbookdragon · 22 hours ago
With all the boys over at her apartment, she didn’t exactly have privacy, but then again, she never had privacy at all because no matter where she was, she either had a sibling following her around or one of their friends. That being said, it did make for some interesting calls when someone who wasn’t exactly a “hero” contacted her.
She pulled the buzzing device from her thigh pocket and peered at the unknown caller. “Who is it, sis?” Dick asked, pausing the movie, much to Wally’s dismay.
“Dunno,” she answered and slid her thumb along the bottom, raising it to her ear. “This is Wayne.”
Wanna come with me and raid a high-security facility and probably kill a couple high-level targets?
She snorted and shook her head. ”Why can’t you ever ask me to a party? Why’s it always a mission?”
Because we dance best in a battlefield not a ballroom.
“Fair point. Where’s the facility?”
”Meh…and what are you going to offer me to make it worth my while?”
A massive amount of money and my good company.
At that, she cackled. ”Slade, I don’t think there’s such a thing as your good company.”
So? You comin’ or what?
“When are we leaving?”
I’m waiting outside your door.
Her brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re what—” a knock sounded at her door and she sighed, rubbing her temples. “Of course you are.”
Let me in.
“It’s open!” She shouted and the door opened and slammed before he appeared in her living room. Immediately Dick and the others tensed and started rising and she waved her hands. “No! Not inside the apartment!” She jumped to her feet and stood between him and the others. “Everybody calm down!”
“Why is he here!” Dick shouted and she rolled her eyes.
“Sometimes we hang out,” she responded, and Jason snickered.
“Bet something else hangs out too.”
“Shut up, Jason.” She glanced at Slade. “Go stand in the entryway and lemme pack a to-go back.”
“I’m comfortable right here,” he replied, and she glared at him.
“Do not start a fight in my living room, Slade. I’m serious.”
“Doesn’t look like I’m the one who’s going to,” he said, shooting a smirk at Dick and Wally who glowered at him in response.
“Jesus Christ, why am I friends with you?” she muttered, wandering into her bedroom.
A moment later she appeared with a duffel bag thrown over her shoulder. Oddly enough the group was curled around the TV, watching the show, throwing back different theories. It was almost heartwarming if she set aside the number of times they’d all tried to kill each other.
“Ready to go?” she asked, and Slade stood up.
She leaned over and pressed kisses to Dick and Jason’s heads. “Watch the apartment for me, would you? And don’t tell dad I’m hanging with Deathstroke or he’ll have a stroke.” Her brothers, and even Slade, groaned at her pun and she grinned before leaving with the assassin.
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superhero--imagines · a day ago
I’ve decided to make a zine
Like a personal one, some information below
Release date: ????? Maybe July/August
Will feature a handful of my best/most popular fics for the batboys/marvel superheroes, all rewritten and edited - this includes the Dick Miscommunication series
Each section will have a handwritten letter from that character (scanned and formatted) like the ones I sell on my shop
Will feature some photography by yours truly for the ✨aesthetic✨
I’m hoping to find an artist that can draw a cool cover and some companion pieces. I’m flexible on payment but I think I would prefer a variable payment where I pay the artist a portion of the profits (because that seems the most fair tbh) so if you’re interested or you know an amazing artist who would like to get paid for their work tag them or let me know
It’ll probably be pink-ish
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Mission Successful  (part two)
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Part One / Masterlist 
Recap/Summary: Abaddon and her entourage have struck once again. The second wealthiest group in Gotham has decided to throw the best party. Unlike other people, the man and wife love to show off their riches. Unfortunately, Abaddon and her husband discovered the Gates were showcasing their diamonds and a bunch of other valuables. Abaddon and her team wish to take those items and melt them down to create a weapon. Once you and the Titans discovered what the enemy was planning, you immediately knew what to do.
Y/L/N: Your last name
Y/H/T: Your hair type
Dialogue Prompts (Credits go to the original creator): None
Dick Grayson x-reader
[Third Person View]
Y/N's heart began to race, her hands starting to shake slightly. Dick noticed his girlfriends nervous actions. He looked around before walking over to join Y/N's side. Dick Grayson grabbed her hand, he rubbed the top of her hand soothingly. Abaddon and Ricky strolled down the pathway and looked at the glass cases of the jewels. "Just relax, don't fall for their scare tactics," Dick whispered so only Y/N Y/L/N could here.
Abaddon walked over to the bar with Ricky's hand in hers. The wife and husband sat down on each stool, waiting for a bartender to approach them. A tall young man walked over to the couple with a welcoming smile, wearing mainly black clothing: a cream colored button down shirt, classy pants, shiny dress shoes, suspenders, and a small black bow tie. The man's long blonde curly hair was put into a low ponytail, tucked away from his face.
"What can I do for you two?" he asked with a kind tone. Abaddon and Ricky smiled to themselves as they settled into their seats. The enemy of the Titans set her purse on the chair beside her. "A Screwdriver and a Tom Collins please," Ricky said, setting a twenty dollar bill onto the counter. The man took the bill and set it into the register underneath a marble counter. "I'll be right back with your drinks," Reynolds - the bartender - said. Abaddon and Ricky thanked the young man, they both turned around and looked over at the glass cases.
They exchanged in small talk, making comments about the gold encrusted tiaras along with silver diamonds that laid on top of a small white pillow inside a glass case. Abaddon flattened the hairs that had gotten loose from the firm grip of the hair gel.
Rachel, Gar, and Jason sat a few stools down from the enemy. Jason took a sip of his coca cola while Gar and Rachel sipped on some water. Reynolds came over to Abaddon and Ricky with their cold beverages. They thanked the man, drinking their alcoholic beverages. Y/N and Dick kept a close eye on them as well as looking at everything around them.
"Team, how's everything going?" Essie questioned, her voice echoing.
"Abaddon and her entourage know we're here, but we're keeping it a low profile," Y/N answered, "Got any details?" There was a long pause after the Y/H/C girl asked the question. Y/N Y/L/N turned around so her face was facing the wall behind her. She double tapped the patch behind her ear, trying to see if there was a bad connection with the comms.
"I lost them," Y/N mumbled, "You?"
She turned back around and looked to her boyfriend, he shook his head as a response. Y/N looked over at the bar and saw Abaddon and Ricky were nowhere to be found. "God dammit," Y/N mumbled. Dick furrowed his eyebrows at her outburst. She nudged his shoulder and tilted her head towards the direction where the two people once sat. Dick Grayson grunted in frustration, he brought his hand up and ran his hand through his hair.
"I'll go find them, you grab Rachel, Gar and Jason then meet me in the hallway next to the casing area," Dick ordered. Y/N gave her boyfriend a quick nod before racing over to where the rest of the team was. Dick took off and rushed down the hallway, getting ready to grab his gun if he needed it. Y/N leaned over and took the last sip of Jason's soda. "Hey! My father is a high class businessman!" he exclaimed.
"Ah, shove it," Y/N responded. She grabbed ahold of his collar bone and ushered Rachel and Gar to follow her. The four of them began to walk towards the hallway where Dick told Y/N to meet. "Everything okay ma'am?" a security officer asked, walking up to them. Y/N smiled and nodded her head as a response. Jason slowly took Y/N's hand away and stood beside her. "Sorry sir, I was just taking my brother and his friends away from the bar," Y/N replied, "We needed to take a break." The man nodded his head and left them be.
"What the fuck's going on?" Jason asked, crossing his arms. Y/N looked behind, beside and in front of them to make sure nobody was listening in. Her gaze switched over to the entrance way and noticed the two men closing the front door, almost as if they were locking it. ‘Shit, Kory won’t be able to get in,’ she thought. Y/N sighed and brought her attention back to Jason,Gar, and Rachel. 
"Abaddon, Ricky, and her crew are gone. Dick went down that hallway to try and find them," Y/N replied, she motioned to the pathway with her head. Rachel's face went pale in a nervous complexion. Gar noticed her change of expression, he set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Jason looked back at the door and noticed what Y/N Y/L/N had caught a glimpse of. 
"The coms are dead," Y/N continued, "Dick and I tried contacting them, but we got no response." The three teens nodded, Rachel grabbed a hair tie and put her hair up in a low ponytail. They looked back and scanned the people that looked into the cases of the Gates prized possessions. "Okay, for now on. I'm your older sister, I'm here to supervise you after our father 'the business man' decided he wasn't able to go to the party. We'll have the same first names, but different last names," Y/N explained, "Follow my orders until we get back online with Essie and the others."
After the four agreed to the plan, they set forth down the pathway, making sure they weren't being followed. Small pictures were hung on the sides of the walls. Gold flowers were on the wallpaper, little silver incisions were imprinted on the floral pieces. The group passed a brown table with a vase of red roses at the middle. 
"Damn, and I thought Bruce was rich," Gar commented, under his breath.
"You should be happy Bruce didn't hear that," Rachel replied as she looked at the photos as well. Y/N looked behind them, making sure nobody was following them. She glanced back and forth to see if Dick was there, but unfortunately Y/N saw no sight of him.
"Fuck," she muttered. The three teens turned to look at their 'older sister' with looks contorted with worry and confusion.
"Dick's not here," Y/N answered their rhetorical questions. Jason sighed and tapped the side of the patch behind his ear in hopes that the coms would magically start working, the other two did that same motion. "I've already tried that," Y/N said. Rachel, Gar and Jason all sighed in frustration. The two doors to the long decorated hallway suddenly shut with a loud slam.
Y/N held up her arm and waved her hand above the watch on her wrist. A floorplan of the tall skyscraper projected from the little device. The Y/H/C noticed Kory Anders standing at the front door arguing with the two men up front. The four of them noticed their friends demeanor change once Abaddon’s crew mates weren’t letting Starfire in. A clock icon showed up at the top of the building. "We're running out of time, the party ends in less than two hours," Y/N said, looking up from the watch. The floorplan disappeared as she lowered her arm back to her side. Y/N walked down the hallway with Jason, Gar and Rachel following her. Once they turned a corner the four of them were met with two armed men.
"Hey there! We were just looking for the restroom," Gar said, standing beside Y/N. The red headed man standing to the left kept a straight face, his hand remained on his gun. Rachel and Jason stood on the other side of Gar and Y/N.
"Y/N," Rachel murmured, "Got any plans?"
The Y/H/T girl swiftly grabbed her gun and shot the man's weapon out of his own palm. He lunged forward, about to kick Y/N in the stomach. Jason took out his grappling hook and fleetly dragged the man's leg away. Gar immediately transformed into his alter ego as the green tiger, he pounced on the second guard. Three other uniformed men turned the corner behind the team.
"Shit! There's more of them?" Y/N exclaimed, but it sounded like a question. The girl pressed the button at the side of her belt. The dark purple suit leaked from the loop and practically latched onto her skin. Y/N glanced over at Jason and took notice of his suit doing the same action. The two of them stood back and to back, fighting off whichever guard they could.
"Go get Dick! We'll take care of this!" Y/N ordered, looking over at Gar and Rachel.
The two other teammates quickly nodded their heads and rushed down the hallway. Y/N unsheathed her sword, throwing it at the man. The silver weapon landed in the man's chest. He fell to the ground as he screamed in agony. Y/N extended her hand and the sword was pulled out of the man's chest and back into her hand.
Jason glanced at the girl and smirked once he got a break from fighting one of the guards. With Y/N's super hearing, she overheard the enemies crewmate sneak up on her. Her hand collided with the man's face and he fell to the floor, unconscious. Jason and Y/N looked around, finding all of the kayoed men. The two vigilantes gave one another a fist bump before racing down the hallway.
Y/N tapped the side of her mask that covered the upper part of her face, the floorplan appeared before her eyes. They had exactly 10 minutes before the party was over with. Jason and Y/N turned a corner and headed straight for the casing room. The two teammates realized the doors were still shut. Y/N glimpsed at Jason and motioned for him to kick the door open. The white wooden door flew off its hinges and landed outside the entryway.
Y/N extended her hand, stopping Jason from walking through the door. She slowly walked ahead and looked both ways to make sure everything was alright. Tables had been thrown all over the place, the bars cabinets were broken into, glass laid all over the ground. Jason nudged Y/N's shoulder, he pointed to the ceiling. A large hole had been made in the plaster of the ceiling.
"God dammitt," Y/N mumbled.
She looked back down and saw Rachel kneeling beside Dick in his Nightwing suit. Gar stood behind her, making sure that the two of them were alright. Abaddon and Ricky were slouched over a table, unconscious. Their crew was stood against the wall with their hands handcuffed. "Dick," Y/N muttered. Dick's girlfriend rushed over him, a worried expression drawn on. Jason stepped over to Abaddon and Ricky to make sure they weren't dead.
Y/N looked at Rachel and Gar, wanting an answer. "He's alright," Rachel reassured, "We've already called." The door to the casing area was torn off the frame of the entrance way. A red and orange glow slid through the air, Y/N put a protective arm over Dick to protect him from the piercing flames. The group of vigilantes looked up and saw Kory Anders standing there with Bruce and Essie behind her. 
“You’re late,” Jason said, hopping up from beside the criminals. 
[Two Hours later: at the base, third person view]
The midnight moon hovered above the skyscrapers that sat in front of the Titans secret base. Birds flew through the sky, trying to get to their home away from home. Sounds of laughter and relief filled the air of the tall building where the Titans were relaxing. Kory and Essie stood in the kitchen baking a celebratory chocolate cake and a vegan one for Gar. Music floated through the atmosphere as everyone chuckled at their successful mission. Rachel and Jason sat at the counter playing a game of war, Rachel was winning at the moment which Jason despised.
Gar sat on the couch playing a videogame that Y/N and Dick had gotten him for his birthday last year. Kory walked over with some silverware and a couple of plates. The smell of sugar radiated from the kitchen all the way to where Dick and Y/N's room was. The low hum of the TV was all Y/N Y/L/N heard as she stepped out of the bathroom wearing a white robe along with her favorite Y/F/C fuzzy slippers. 
She glanced at the television and saw Dick Grayson had been watching a news broadcasting of the mission the Titans had victoriously finished. Y/N walked over and turned off the TV. Dick stood at the dresser - shirtless - looking for a pair of clothes to change into (GIF Above).
A couple of bruises aligned his arms and chest, he winced in pain as he searched for some clean clothes. The dim glow of the light on the bedside table lit the room around Dick. He picked up a grey sweatshirt and set it on top of the dresser, still looking for a pair of sweatpants. Y/N walked over and sat at the right side of the bed, facing where Dick stood. 
“Hey,” she said, quietly. 
Y/N stood up from the bed, taking Dick’s hand into hers. He glanced down at her and smiled then kissed her on the forehead. The former detective closed the drawers to the dresser and wrapped his arms around his heroic girlfriend. Dick Grayson couldn’t help but smile at the one person he truly loved. “We did good tonight,” he commented, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist. She smiled and ran her hand over his shoulder. “Hell yeah we did,” she remarked, earning a chuckle from Dick. He brought his face to hers, kissing her on the lips. Y/N felt Dick’s grip on her waist tighten as they fell onto the bed. Their affectionate moment was soon interrupted by a loud knock on their bedroom door. Y/N groaned in frustration, setting her head on Dick’s bare shoulder. 
“Who is it?” Dick called, keeping his arms around Y/N. 
“The cakes ready if you two want some!” Rachel replied. 
“Stop eating eachothers faces and come out!” Jason exclaimed. 
Y/N Y/L/N and Dick Grayson could hear Rachel and Gar start to laugh at the boys outburst. Y/N turned her head to look at Nightwings alter identity. Dick looked at her with a flirtatious grin still on his face. He slowly got up from the comfortable bed and changed into his sweatshirt and a pair of tan colored khakis. “Come on,” Dick said, grabbing his favorite orange t-shirt along with a pair of shorts. He neatly folded them beside Y/N so she could change into the clothes he had set out for her. 
“I don’t want to get up!” Y/N groaned. She took ahold of a pillow and set it on top of her face so she couldn’t see the brown eyed boy standing before her. Dick stepped over, hovering over his fellow teammate. Y/N slowly took the pillow off of her face and was met with Dick’s smiling face. “Fine, I’ll get up,” she said, giving in. Dick let out a happy cheer and waited till his girlfriend got changed. 
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omnipotentfool · a day ago
Hc's for jonathan crane helping the reader with their period ty <3
Sorry that it's taking so long to push things out, Im just a bit busy and have bad procrastination issues.
Jonathan Crane during his S/O's period
You'd think that someone with a PHD would know what to do but man's is absolutely clueless.
Like he understands the hormones and tears and shit but where does the tampon go? Why is your back hurting?
The idiot decides to interview you instead of getting you survival supplies. But I mean he's supportive?
"So how would you rate your pain on this scale of one to ten" *gets a pillow to the face* "okay, so I'll say a 7"
I mean afterwards he does actually come through. You'll never have to worry about running out of pads or chocolate.
But when he finally does get you settled down with a hot pad and ice cream he's out of there his curiosity has been satisfied and he makes no plans on bothering you during your moment.
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meshlasolus · a day ago
Intelligent Insanity
Jerome Valeska x Reader
I'm still tryna speed up events here because I rlly rlly wanna get to the good part i have planned okay
Series Summary: Two lives can start very differently, but it's never the beginning that makes the story. It's the the journey the lives take that eventually bring them down the same path.
Chapter Warnings: mentions of death, fluff, angst, mentions of murder.
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After a few days with Galavan's personal health worker, I began to feel like brand new. Jerome had been right by my side nearly the entire time, minus the moments when he and Galavan were plotting the next Maniax strike.
I wished I could attend the big blow out at the police station tomorrow, because I would hate to miss such a big event. I also wanted them to know I was still alive, and that they couldn't just kill me so easily. I wasn't necessarily a force to be reckoned with, but I certainly wasn't a pansy that would die with one shot.
I got up more on my feet with each day since the shot, and I thought myself to be ready enough for the grand mission, though Galavan insisted I stay. As much as it pained Jerome to see the look on my face, he agreed as well.
"You just got the stitches out yesterday, just stay here and I'll be back before you know it." He rubbed up and down my arms. The scene was sweet and momentous, as if a man was leaving his girl for a business affair, and would return for her when he was finished. However the task at hand was far from a business affair.
"I know.... Just promise you'll get that cop that shot me?" I asked, glancing up at him with a sad look upon my features.
"Of course, princess. He'll pay for what he did to you." Jerome's voice got darker when he neared the end of his words, his hand coming down to the spot on my side that was still healing. I couldn't really even feel it anymore, but the pain around it still made me a little sluggish.
"Be careful, I don't need you getting shot too." I said, straightening out his uniform, which was an exact replica of the one's the GCPD wore.
"We'll be okay. Galavan is sending in backup this time, so there won't be any chances." He convinced me, and I knew he would do a great job. He always did. His showmanship, his stage presence, all were charismatic details about him that made him special. He was purely captivating.
"You know, you'd be a good looking cop.... if you were into that sort of thing." I laughed.
"Abiding by the law is not as fun as breaking it, my dear." He said in a sing song voice, turning the end into a long whistle. He was a great whistler, and when I wanted to hear a certain song he gave it every time.
"That's certainly true. Go get em, tiger." I said, pressing a firm kiss to his lips and sitting back on the heels of my feet. He was unsatisfied with that, pulling me back in for one more. "I love you, ya psycho."
"I love you more, ya little maniac." He wrapped his arms around me one last time, holding me close to his chest before he was off. He turned back around from the door, tipping his hat to me and winking.
When he was gone I sighed, leaning against one of the bedframe's giant colums. He was such an amazing boy, truly. He was going to rule the world someday, whether he knew it or not. Gotham was going to bend to his will.
The amount of people that feared him was many, but I had a feeling the amount of people who believed in him would be bigger. Sure, he was a matricidal freak that escaped an asylum where he'd been held since his first murder... everyone has to start somehwhere. He was going to make people see him a little differently.
Later that night, when Jerome was safe and sound, back at Galavan's penthouse, we got nestled down into bed and watched as they rolled the footage of today's massacre on the news. I smiled as I saw the tape recording begin to play. They even put out a viewer discretion warning before they played Jerome's clip.
"Ya hear that? I might be disturbing to some viewers." He laughed his signature maniacal cackle, and already I had a smile on my face.
While watching the video, I couldn't help but admire the way he looked. So happy to be in his element, and simply taking it all in. His little speech to the citizens of Gotham had me in stitches, but also gave me goosebumps. He was quite the entertainer, and he knew it.
The clip ended on his laugh again, and boy did it make me feel things. This crazy ginger did things to me that he didn't even realize. I could go on and on about the way his smile made me weak, or how the way he spoke gave me chills, but in this moment I simply felt like showing him how he made me feel.
I threw my leg over him, sitting up so that I straddled him on either side. He didn't even act surprised, he just smiled and quirked an eyebrow, as if he was somehow expecting this to happen.
"Am I in for it?" He questioned, already knowing the answer but pining for it anyway.
"You have no idea."
The morning after, I awoke to an empty bed. I wasn't disappointed, for I must have overslept by a lot for Jerome to have already gotten up without disturbing me whatsoever. He wasn't really an early riser, so the fact that he was not only awake, but out of bed before me was a shock.
I pulled on the shirt he'd tossed to the floor and a pair of underwear, making sure that the shirt was long enough to cover up without needing shorts. When I found that the shirt hung by my knees, I left the room, content on my journey around the penthouse to find my boyfriend.
I stepped inside the main room to find Galavan and Jerome leaned over a table, discussing important plans. Galavan noticed me enter first, and without shame he looked me up and down. I wasn't necessarily as fun to look at as Barbara, but I suppose in my state of dress I could be found desirable. Too bad I only had eyes for the ginger.
When Jerome caught the stare Galavan was giving me, specifically my legs, he walked over and blocked me from the older man's view. I wasn't sure what the meaning was, for I didn't know the harm that was being done, but Jerome stood in his place unwavering.
"I'm sorry I left so early, but we've got big news." Jerome smiled, grabbing both sides of my waist and pulling me closer.
"Tell me." I said enthusiastically.
"I get to kill my father tomorrow.... and you're gonna help me. After that we're gonna crash a charity ball." He spoke with such fluidity and excitement to the death of his father, who, by understanding, was just as much of a jerk as his mother.
"Murder?" Something changed in my eyes, they became dark and infatuated with the idea of driving his father to the place of death his mother currently was.
"Murder..." he said seriously, with a spooky, eerieness to his tone, but then his smile spread and his laugh gave me small chuckles of my own.
We had a busy day tomorrow.
Tags are open!!
@gabile18 @i-sneeze-to-appease
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