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#like I don’t trust you

emmyrosee · 1 year

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I bought a fragrance today, and my friends didn’t like it bc they’re no fun, so here have this self indulgent piece 💅🏼

——

He loves the way you smell.

In the most innocent way possible, the way you smell makes him weak in the knees and completely at bliss. You tease him that it’s easiest to know when you should ask him questions because of how pliant he becomes, dopey and happy as the invisible tail of his practically wags in the wind.

You just smell like… like home.

You smell like movie nights in on a Tuesday night, face masks smeared on your faces while cookies bake.

You smell like childhood, and the bakery on the corner that gave him free cookies as a kid.

You smell like a warm hug, one the snaps all the broken pieces together in a reminder of ‘I love you, we’ll get through this, I’m proud of you.’

When he comes home after a long day, his favorite thing to do is come find you. More often than not, you’re cooking dinner, or resting on the couch, and he smiles sleepily as he approaches you.

“Hey, my love,” you croon, opening an arm for him to burrow into; he slips in your arms and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, letting himself indulge in your familiar scent. He lets out an audible groan of approval when your nails scratch at his scalp, smiling into your skin as you giggle softly. “Rough day?”

“No, not really,” he murmurs easily, arm wrapping lowly around you and clearly making himself comfortable for the next few hours. “Just always love coming home to you.”

—

kita, atsumu, suna, ushijima midoriya, kirishima, kaminari

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willgrahamscock · 27 days

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Btw, not okay to make fun of religion. Being queer? Amazing! Putting down religion and making fun of people's believes? No?????

It's a joke I get it, but it may not mean anything to you but religion is a really big thing, people find comfort in Jesus and what you're doing is actually disrespect, like extremely.

I don't mean this as hate mail, but please realize, respecting one community but making fun of another is not good D:

Sorry but if your faith is exclusionary to groups of people and actively encourages the persecution of them then I do not care if they’re offended by the fact that I said Jesus and Judas fuck nasty.

#alex answers #I don’t appreciate how this is phrased either like trust me I’m aware what is good and what is bad #you need a hard look at my account if you think I give a fuck about offending people

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justwannabecat · 8 months

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The one where having a secret lab in the basement is not as much of a red flag as it should be.

Because somehow, EVERY. SINGLE. ADULT. IN ALL OF AMITY. Have “secret” basements.

Sure, MOST of them have refitted them to act as emergency bunkers in case there’s another large-scale ghost attack, with rations and shields and blankets and all that, BUT. Even BEFORE the portal opened up, they were there.

Some of them were laboratories dedicated to one of many sciences. Some of them were just storage for the more concerning family heirlooms. At least one person kept the taxidermied bodies of each and every pet they had over their lifetime. Really, it was more odd for someone to not have some weird secret in their basement.

So when Danny ran from Amity and learned just how many people didn’t have strange, niche basements for their hobbies, he was a little put off. When he was eventually asked to stay with the Wayne family in Gotham, well, maybe he could have phrased it better.

How was he supposed to know that asking if they had a “super-secret basement either for your job, your personal life, or disaster prevention” would lead to them thinking he knew about their nightlife?

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #we always talk about how he would avoid creepy basements #but like? imagine if everyone had one???#and instead of thinking that it’s weird #Danny thinks having said basement is normal #and so when heroes go around in their civilian ID trying to get a read on this meta runaway #hero: do you need someone to stay? just for one night?#danny: I dunno… do you have a super secret high-tech basement?#hero: …no?#hero: (does he know?)#danny: you don’t? how am I supposed to trust you then smh

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 2 months

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but also like. guys you don’t need to leave the minecraft youtube community bc one person is bad to clarify. like. shelby is a minecraft youtuber. a lot of her friends are minecraft youtubers. those friends are supportive and as far as we know all believe her. the vast majority of minecraft youtubers are like. fine. this shit is something that Happens because Abusers are Manipulative, going to another hobby will Not shield you from anything and you’re not immoral for liking something bad people also liked. which is. one of the biggest video games ever. like in this situation no one was knowingly harbouring an abuser and it seems everyone was supportive. this is just a case of some people being shit, not anything to do with mcyt. hell, the guy hasn’t been on minecraft in like a year lmao.

i fully understand why the content might be uncomfortable to you guys now but like, please don’t self flagellate and cut yourself off from an entire genre of media because of one guy again. i saw that happen after the dream stuff and a lot of people ended up losing important things because they made rash decisions and felt like they Had to leave. but please. take one deep fucking breath. this has happened before. this has happened so much before, and in ways far worse than this. because abusers, unfortunately, exist. you should not feel guilty for being manipulated by a manipulative abuser, don’t blame yourself. do what you have to, but please, please keep in mind that the majority of minecraft youtube is fine. it is fine to continue engaging with it. it’s fine to be manipulated by an abuser and it’s not your fault. please don’t make rash decisions and end up losing things you care deeply about and being unable to get them back. distance yourself all you want, but please be careful to not do so out of emotional self harm from the guilt. that’s something this fandom encourages far too much- even outside of this- and it’s unhealthy and anyone expecting it of you is cruel.

#mcyt #abuse tw #i guess this is discourse idk but like #this happened two years ago and the amount of people who realised cutting themselves off from All mcyt was self harm and came back #only to have lost a lot of content they created and valued because they wanted to punish themselves for trusting a predator #and like. you’re victim blaming yourself. obviously you are not anywhere near as much a victim as The victim #but being manipulated into supporting abusers is still something that is an action they take to harm others #Being used as a tool to silence others unknowingly is a cruel thing and can be traumatic to go through #its honestly really concerning as someone working on their own emotional self harm to see it. like this isn��t about anyone in specific but #guys. emotionally self harming isn’t helping. you don’t need punishment. breathe and think through things.

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ohitslen · 11 months

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Promises

He should know better.

Wolfwood has seen Vash make promises, or hear about the ones he has made in the past. He has also seen the end of each one and how every single time the outcome is less than what was promised.

Vash likes to say embellished words, with a soft and determined voice that lures you into his hopes and dreams, it almost feels like a spell, as if he was calling for you to come closer and believe him. But Wolfwood knows better.

He believes in him, but Vash is much closer to being an idealistic dreamer than a realistic person like he is. He might not be aware of it, but his beautiful promises of a better future give people hope, a hope that is usually embraced with things like disappointment and abandonment.

He doesn’t think that Vash does it with the intent of looking for any of those things. Far from it, he might even do the impossible in order to accomplish said promises, but life is too short and humans are too mortal for his wishes, so in the end, most of Vash’s promises end up being empty or they come to haunt him as a reminder of his failed vows. He admires the man, for his perseverance and idealism, but he also hates the man, for his stubbornness and lies.

Wolfwood knows all of this perfectly to a tee. And yet, he has also found himself being drawn to his world. Because he also dreams of it.

A world in where his always present calls for love and peace exist, a world that is far more kind than what he might deserve, a world in where the kids can be happy and roam around without any worry in their heads, a world in where he can peacefully turn grey with age and his hands can shed the harsh callouses of his life. Who knows, maybe a world in where he and Vash can finally know the peace that was taken away from them, in where they can share the calmness that comes with the passage of time, indulging in every tick of the clock welcoming with open arms whatever comes their way without any fear.

It is a beautiful promise. But Wolfwood is a person that has to keep his feet on the ground, indulging in “what ifs” would only make things harder than what they had to be. He can’t have any ifs if he can’t make it through the now. And by the way he is carrying his present, he is doubtful he will even get to see a shed of that promised world that Vash tries to drag him into. So why mourn something he doesn’t even have, or will ever have for that matter.

He hates the way Vash seems to promise things so easily. His tongue silky and pliant, slipping divine words one after the other, promises way too big for what that barren world can actually fit.

But when Vash talks to him in that holy voice of his, when he hears him say “It’s okay, everything will be alright, I promise” so gently right on his ear, while he holds his face so tenderly making him focus on him and nothing else, he wants to believe him.

He has seen the end of his promises. He knows how impossible they are. But for once, he wants to believe it too. Believe in that loving world that will cradle them both until they fall asleep, listening to the soft sound of the wind laughing while the moons smile upon them.

So he allows himself to indulge in the warmth of his palms, leaning into the comfort of his existence, feeling the soft air of Vash’s breaths against his skin while their foreheads meet in a touch that feels like a hot brand that will melt him.

For an instant, he allows himself to be selfish and believe that maybe, that is how living in that world Vash so desperately fights for would be. Soft and warm, making him feel safe in the hollow of Vash’s hands where the world seems to fit so well. A world where the blue sky is a blanket that covers the love and care that is nestled in it like the one in Vash’s eyes. He wants to see that world.

For now, he will selfishly think that the world that fits in Vash’s hands is right there in where he is holding him, where his blue eyes are drowning in the light of the sunset dripping with love and care while looking at him, that the gentle touch of Vash’s thumb wiping his tears is the same as the kiss of that laughing wind in that distant future, where the smile of his eyes overcomes the smile of the moons.

He should know better. But he loves the thought of that world. And he hopes that Vash will get to see that world, because that gentle sight is more fitting for someone like him than the one of his violent world.

He promises to himself that he will do what it takes for that day to be possible. Even if the end of that promise will be empty for Nicholas, he knows it will be a full one for Vash. So it really isn’t that empty for him after all.

He hates his lies, and he hates how true they sound, but Vash’s embellished words are far sweeter than his bitter thoughts so they feel better on his insides, almost like a balm that cares for the wounds of his throbbing, painful reality.

He should know better.

But aren’t humans weak at the promise of love?

#yeah….mm…mhm yeah #my thoughts were going crazy with this one. because WW crying is something that has me week on the knees #WEAK FFS #also the thought of him becoming bare and emotional at the hands of Vash makes me want to jump around until I pass out #think of it. he is afraid of him in a way. but he trusts him so deeply too it’s such a contrasting and little contradictory thing #more like. denial after denial but yk what I mean. because that’s the whole post #also as a fun fact. while on the making of this thing the line of “it’s okay. everything will be alright. I promise #it’s meant to be said by Vash to WW #but also I did it considering that a)Vash is saying it to himself as well and b)it’s something WW wants to say to Vash as well #they are both incredibly pained men and they know it but don’t adress it. so verbally saying such words to each other issssUUUEHWHAGAH #ah yes. the intimacy of being emotionally vulnerable with the person who you would trust your life to but never openly say shit to eachother #isn’t that such an amazing flavor? I won’t lie to you it’s one of my favorites #trigun #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun stampede #trigun fanart #wolfwood #nicholas trigun #nicholas the punisher #lenssi writes #lenssi draws #trigun 2023 #trigun 98 #because I did a mishmash on WW design bc this is meant to be TriStamp time skip in my mind #his eyes were originally their canon steel blue/grayish tone. but while doing the lighting the brown looked gorgeous #i couldn’t help myself so I left it that way. because there is something so beautiful abt his eyes shining like that in #the afternoon light while he becomes undone under the sunset ya feel me?#OHFUCKIALMOSTFORGOT another little detail. Vash’s right hand doesn’t have a glove and it’s on purpose btw you’re welcome

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bisexualseraphim · 3 months

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The fact that neurotypical and able-bodied people can’t comprehend that disabled people usually don’t like consistently being told “BEING DISABLED IS BAD!!! THE WAY YOU ARE IS FUNDAMENTALLY WRONG!!! YOU NEED TO BE CURED!!!” even in a ‘nice’ or ‘woke’ way shows how little they actually value our agency or even our worth as humans.

No, Stacy, I don’t want people fiddling with eugenics because they’re uncomfortable with me existing, I want you to. You know. Treat me like a person. Have help be there when I need it without treating me like I’m an invalid. Why is that apparently so much more difficult for you than telling me my existence is wrong and spending millions fiddling in a lab for unwanted “cures?” Whatever happened to listening to others and accepting them for who they are? Or do you only see disabled people as the poor, helpless invalids you can “help” cross the street without asking so you can get another Scouts badge?

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emmyrosee · 9 months

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You left him for two minutes. All of two minutes.

On the rare days off that you and Shoto get to spend together, it’s almost always spent curled together on the couch or in the bed, watching him work out for fun before making him cheat on his diet, anything that lets the day drip by slower than any other day of the week.

You left him to pee. That’s it. Placing the bowl of sour candy down, you slip out from his lap, give him a kiss before moving down the hall like any standard, subconscious person would.

Two. Minutes.

“Shoto, what’re you doing?”

“You like the strawberry flavor the best.”

By the time you come out, he’s got a pile of pink candy, separated by the other colors except for purple, which is in its own little pile. “You don’t like the grape flavor.”

You quirk a brow and walk back over to him, watching as he continues to segregate the candies, “baby, I would’ve been more than happy to just pick around them, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“But you don’t like them,” he repeats, looking up at you with those doe eyes that you love to get lost in. “You look down every time you reach for one. I thought I might help ease the burden slightly.”

Burden. Your first world problem of not liking sour grape skittles should be the farthest thing from a burden to him.

But to shoto, it’s not one, and it’ll never be one; little acts of services like these aren’t new, small details just to make hour by hour tasks and privilegies just that much easier.

It’s something he’s always done. Something he’s always going to do. Because he loves you.

With a smile, you slink back into his lap, your head nuzzling against his stomach while the tv drones on about whatever he put on while you were gone. You kiss the warmth of his tummy to feel the muscles constrict under the affection, and you bury your hand into the bowl of candy right after.

“Don’t be cheeky.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum. A hand rests on your head, thumb gently rubbing over the warmth of your crown as silence fills the room once again.

Popping a skittle into your mouth, your face quickly grimaces, and he hums in acknowledgement.“Eugh,” you grumble, and he looks down at you, silently asking you what happened.

And you want to lie. Truly! It’s better for everyone if you do, just tell him you bit your tongue and let him think nothing more.

But apparently, you don’t.

“Missed a grape one,” you tease.

“….”

“Sho?”

“Spit it into my hand.”

“Sho, no-“

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little-pondhead · 9 months

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[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.