💀🧼
You're the sin that I've been waiting for
The hands around my throat
It's all I can think about
The smell of sweat and blood
Let me savor what I'm waiting for
A chance to make me choke
You're all I can think about
The taste is red in rust
Can I hold you in my mouth
Until I fade into this form?
Can you cover me?
Will you breathe for me?
I would feed you all my pleasures
Just to drown in all of yours
Have you heard of me?
Are you hurting me?
As the knife goes in, cut across my skin
When my death begins
I wanna know that I was dying for you
I died for you
𖤐// Yen.
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I need codependent Danny/Jason as a little treat (for me) and I love the idea of them having some sort of instant connection the moment they meet (bc ghost stuff idk)
Danny who's been dropped in Gotham with no way home (alt universe??) and he's been here for 36 hours and having a Very bad time senses a liminal being and immediately latches onto them heedless of the fact that his new best friend is shooting at some seedy guys in an alley and goes off about how stressed he is and how he can't make it back to the ghost zone and what a bad day he's been having (and it's important to note Danny is a littol ghost boy literally hanging off of Jason's neck as he floats aimlessly) and Jason is like "who are you??" And Danny is like "oh sorry I'm Danny lol" and then just continues lamenting his woes
And honestly ? This might as well happen. Nothing about this Danny guy(is he human?) gives Jason a bad vibe and tbh he's never felt more calm and level headed before so he just keeps up his usual Red Hood patrol and doesn't even think about it when he heads back to a safehouse and feeds Danny dinner (breakfast) before crashing for half the day
The only thing I actually need is Jason meeting up with the bats for some sort of Intel meeting and they're like "uhhh who's that" and Jason is like "that's Danny." And does not elaborate (very ".... What do you have there?" "A smoothie" vibes)
And it takes them a while to realize that these two have known each other for less than 12 hours and are literally attached at the hip
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she says he won't let her get a dog, which is fine, because they're in an apartment, and that's the kind of thing people say about their partners. he won't let me get a dog. and you're at a dinner party and you tilt your head a little to the side just like that dog he won't let her get, because is this the thing that's going to upset you? you don't know every corner of their relationship, she could be joking, they could have had so many healthy conversations about the dog, right, and maybe she's not letting herself get the dog because of money and time and whatever. but, like, she did say let
and she wants to move away from his hometown and he wants to stay and then he tells you with a wink and a conspiratorial stage whisper don't worry i'll convince her and she laughs about it - so clearly this is something they laugh about. but you do just stand there and stare at him like what the fuck, man. you can't say what you want to say which is why do you get the final say on everything because they're both obviously aware of the other person's stance on this and have obviously had private conversations about it and what are you going to do about it except make a scene and then he'll be mad at you and call you one of those bitches behind your back and she'll cut you off, which is a loss that doesn't feel worth it just because he makes you a little skeeved out every 3rd comment
and they both agree he just isn't the type to get flowers which is fine because everyone shows love differently, and are you really gonna judge someone based on their sense of individual relationship responsibility? maybe he's constantly cleaning her car and writing her poems and making her furniture or something. maybe she doesn't even like flowers and this is perfect, actually. and no you couldn't date him, obviously, ew; but like, she tells you she's happy. you almost send her a tiktok that says don't be 25 and the cool girl that doesn't need anything, you'll hate not getting flowers at 30, but that's like, starting drama & you shouldn't start drama needlessly.
and you're a little older than her but not so much older you can pull the whole trust me on this one babe thing and besides that wouldn't have worked anyway (when does it ever) and besides you have trauma so you and your therapist both agree that you're always looking for a problem even when there isn't one. and you tell yourself that just because you see them for 15 minutes every month does not mean you can identify every single red flag based on a single shitty half-joking(?) comment
and besides, what are you going to do? she says i actually wanted another stand mixer but thankfully he stops me when i'm about to spend too much money and you're standing there like are you okay? is this normal? is this just something people say? and again - what are you going to do?
to your therapist you try to language it - it's not, like, any of my business. but sometimes, doesn't it feel like - you should do something. there's got to be something, right? you've tried dropping little hints but they sail right through and you've tried having a single serious conversation and she got upset because why does it matter to you, yes it's different but we're happy, it doesn't need to make sense to you and you're like. really unwilling to push a boundary about it anymore; because the truth is that you know logically it shouldn't matter to you, as long as both parties are happy.
and besides, you've been wrong before. it's just... like, every time you see them both, something else happens, some kind of shiver down your spine like do you even hear each other when you talk. it's their strange, bickering orbit. just the way he's on his phone through dinner or watching sports instead of helping in the kitchen or, fuck, another one of these little throwaway comments he makes about we'll see about that, babe. she laughs when he calls her passions stupid shit and meanwhile she gets him tickets to see the knicks and he tells you well at least she's smart about something and still! it's none of your business.
you say get the dog anyway and she laughs. like, this is is you being funny. and not you saying - no really. get the dog. get the dog and get out of here. pack up and start running.
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Nightwing's car guy
Dick was doing well to establish himself in Bludhaven. He had an apartment, it was shitty but it was his. He had a day job as police officer, half the people there were in the cartels Nightwing was trying to crack down on, and the other half were in the cartels Nightwing was still trying to trace. He had his suit, still bat-grade, blue instead of the red, yellow, and green Jason got to wear now.
He did't have a cave. Or maybe it should be a nest because the whole bird thing. Burrow? What was the thing owls lived in called? The point is he made due without it. He had his apartment, and he had his supplies stashed away. It wasn't as much as in the Cave, but he didn't have Cave-funding. He could make due.
He didn't have an Oracle in his ear. But that came with the added bonus of not having a Bat either. He could do his own research, find his own information. And it wasn't like he and Babs were totally cut off. It was just only a little weird, because she was technically his ex. Sure she would be in his corner, but she was still his ex. He needed to save some face. Especially since he knew that Bruce and Babs liked to... talk. He could make due.
The only thing Dick was maybe, sorta, just maybe having a little trouble was with his bike. Well it wasn't his bike, it was Nightwing's. Which was precisely the trouble. He'd found a place to stash it, but Dick had never been a car guy... or in this case a bike guy. He would chase his rouges, speeding through the streets, and sure the bike was made for the tight corners and quick turns and the high speeds, and sure it could take a hit or two. But what about three or four? Or five?
Point was Dick needed a car- a bike guy. One that was cheap (he was only a cop), and knew how to not ask questions and keep his mouth shut (again- Nightwing's bike). All that on top of knowing enough on how to fix his bike. (it wasn't exactly the type you could find in store).
But the solution seemed to find him. Which Dick was aware was not generally how it worked, but he would count his blessings. He had been out on patrol, the type that had involved his bike and high speeds. Unfortunately it did not involve the perp in handcuffs and on his way to jail. Dick had been on his tail, could've had him too, if the bike hadn't started sputtering. Dick had done as much as he could for it, but she really needed a pair of eyes that actually knew what they were looking at.
Mumbling curses to himself, Nightwing had been ready to head off to at least catch a dust trail of what operation he'd find himself in next. He could feel the eyes watching him. His hair stood in edge, and when Nightwing turned to look around he couldn't see anyone. Maybe he was being haunted. Trying to arrange his bearings, Nightwing turned back around to get on his bike. When there was suddenly a mop of choppy black hair couched down next to it.
Nightwing blinked at him. How had he managed to get there? "Uh, something you need, man?" Nightwing asked the boy, totally not freaked out.
The boy- teen, he was only a year or two younger than Dick- looked up, large blue eyes staring. As if it was odd for Nightwing to have addressed him. It took him a moment longer to realize that the bike was, in fact, Nightwing's. "You need to change your [important engine part]." He pointed lamely, standing up to his height of only a hair shorter than Dick.
"How do you know that?" Nightwing asked before he could think of the danger the unknown person might pose.
"That's why it was making that sound. It'll put too much pressure on the engine so it won't be able to go as fast it would be otherwise. Which, I take it, would cause you problems." he tipped his head in the direction the rouge had run off in.
Nightwing considered it for just a moment, not wanting the perfect opportunity to get away from him. "Do you know how to fix it?"
The guy looked almost offended, "Yeah."
"I'll pay you." Nightwing jumped at the opportunity, "If you fix it."
Any normal person would've said no to a guy dressed in bullet-proof spandex with a blue bird on his chest and a weird mask. "Sure." He shrugged easily, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he eyed the vehicle. After a moment, "Name's Danny, by the way. You'd probably need to know that." Danny eyes his suit, "Who are you, like, blue-jay?"
"Nightwing." He corrected easily, his name hadn't made the streets yet.
"The Robin reject?" Was Danny immediate response, eyebrow arched up in amusement.
"The what?"
Danny grimaced, the laugh never leaving his face, "Ooh, sorry. Touchy subject?"
"I am not a Robin reject." Dick couldn't tell this civilian that he was Robin. Had been.
Nightwing's bike ran better than it had since he had moved to Bludhaven after Danny had gotten his hands on it. And Danny's payment of ("i don't trust ur money, just buy me food") lunch had been a steal in return. Maybe next time they should go somewhere a little nicer.
Because the bike was doing so well, after Danny fixed it.
Not for any other reason.
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