@bludhavenbirder Continued From Here

@bludhavenbirder continued from here

"No, Jay, I just made a stupid mistake," Dick sits up with a grunt. The nausea from the pain of moving and the way his vision blurs clears his mind for a moment. Working with Jason since he had come back had been difficult, to say the least. Dick had spent his life watching the people he loved accomplish daring feats and survive insane situations. Usually, he could keep his fear in check. He trusted them to fight well, analyze the risks. And he knew Jason could do it, but seeing him almost get hit, almost losing him again, was too much for Dick. Logic and reason fell from his mind and he had ran back into the fray. Dick knew he had gotten hit— he had just watched two bullets be dug from his skin and sutures stitched— but it had all happened so fast. Others were still out there, finishing the fight, but Dick was in a medical bay recovering. "Just suffering from delusions of grandeur," He grimaces, moves his head to the side— he'd shake it if he didn't feel so ill. "Thanks for getting me out of there."

Stupid put it lightly, in Jason's opinion. It was fucking idiotic. But he had to tell himself... Dick didn't realize just how stupid it was, what he did. Because it the bullets had hit him right? He'd be gone. If they hit Jason right?

He'd be back up the next day.

"Course I fuckin' got you out of there, dumbass," he grumbled, pacing beside Dick's sick bed, looking like a tiger in a too cramped cage. "What the hell were you thinking... you could've died, I had that bastard, Grayson." You could have died, and that would've been on me. If Bruce lost him again, he was already mourned. If they lost the golden child... the family was already half in shambles half the damn time. They couldn't take that.

* character headcanons

clothing style.

before - bed routine. 

eating habits.

concept of home and family. 

hobbies. 

fighting style.

what calms your muse down after a bad day?

talk about one person your muse loves.

ways your muse says i love you.

describe your muse’s laugh. 

what items can be found in your muse’s pockets? 

talk about your muse’s most prized possession(s).

describe your muse’s walk. 

talk about your muse’s accent.

describe your muse’s smile. 

how often does your muse get sick?

does your muse know when to rest, or do they push themselves?

does your muse snore? sleeptalk? sleepwalk?

the thing(s) your muse thinks about before falling asleep.

is your muse a fitful or a quiet sleeper?

your muse’s thoughts on cops and other authority figures.

skills and special talents. 

disabilities or illnesses. 

habits and mannerisms.

introvert or extrovert.

religious or non - religious.

verbal or non - verbal communication.

something your muse could never forgive.

something that makes your muse smile.

something that scares your muse.

something that gives your muse hope.

how your muse responds to being helped / taken care of.

how your muse responds to unconditional love.

how your muse responds to danger.

how your muse responds to stress.  

how your muse responds to anger.

did your muse grow up too fast?

It wasn't all Bruce's fault; Jason knew that. Of course he did. Bruce didn't make him break more laws than the Batman's morality allowed. He didn't make Jason stay away from the Wayne Manor, the one place that ever really felt like home to the man. No, that was Jason's doing. It was his choices, his own stubbornness, but something felt innately wrong about going home when things had soured so much between the Joker still breathing and the replacement child that was still allowed to fight after one soldier was already lost.

"Lemme guess, the sources were dragged up the side of a goddamn building crying for their moms," he snorted, knowing that Bruce-- despite his distaste for Jason's methods-- could be more than a little rough when he wanted information out of far more distasteful men.

A huff of breath and he glares back at the street, seeing the cars. "Not bored... restless," he grumbled out, slowly standing from the crouch. There was no grapple gun. Jason was well aware how far he could jump and land on his feet like some cursed to hell cat. Cursed didn't begin to cover it. "When do we move."

  🦇—-;; Bruce tone was a little lighter, despite shifting the focus back to the case, indicating he had at least been in something of a similar situation, leaning a bit on the large part of himself that missed the way things used to be. And sure, he'd like to go back to that, or whatever the new version of that was, like they were doing now, more often, stubbornness tended to get in the way of all that. That didn't mean Bruce didn't miss his son any less, his son working at his side. He'd tell Jason as much if he thought he could get away with it, but he'd been living with that strained bond since Jason had returned to Gotham. Maybe it's the part of him that still blames himself for what happened in Ethiopia. He hasn't breathed a word about that since he first found out the Red Hood's identity.

He shakes his head a little, "the source of this lead was reliable enough." He wouldn't have dragged Jason out this far without at least double-checking his sources. And sure a handful of mob enforcers weren't all that reliable on their own when being interrogated by the Bat, but they had all mentioned the same place. Bruce's hand flexes, clawed fingers moving to the side of the cowl briefly, adjusting the vision mode in the cowl manually.

As his hand lowered from the side of his face, his thumb found the scar on his own lip, faint as it was from how old it was, but it traced it regardless before he looked at his hand and then back out across the way, listening briefly. "We can move soon, if you're starting to get bored, Hood." Bruce's tone takes that slight sarcastic tone, gentle in the way he does with only family. Broken bond aside, Jason is, and always will be his son.

"There's a couple of cars that just pulled up with no plates." He says, looking at Jason again. "My lead isn't entirely rubbish." Bruce shrugged before bringing his hands up to crack his knuckles, then reached for the grapple gun on his belt.

ALIEN (1979) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

the other members of the crew are dead.

this is the worst shit i've ever seen.

anybody ever tell you you look dead?

alien life form. looks like it's been dead a long time.

i should reach the frontier in about six weeks.

can you hear me?

what was your special order?

you read it. i thought it was clear.

what about our lives, you son of a bitch?

how do we kill it? there's gotta be a way of killing it.

that's bullshit.

you still don't understand what you're dealing with, do you?

you admire it.

look, i've heard enough of this, and i'm asking you to pull the plug.

i can't lie to you about your chances, but... you have my sympathies.

something has attached itself to him.

we have to get him to the infirmary right away.

wait a minute. if we let it in, the ship could be infected.

you know the quarantine procedure. twenty-four hours for decontamination.

listen to me. if we break quarantine, we could all die.

look, could you open the goddamned hatch?

i can't do that, and if you were in my position, you'd do the same.

this is an order.

the ship will automatically destruct in t-minus five minutes.

you bitch!

you are my lucky star.

i find that hard to believe.

what would you like me to do?

i'll get my own answers, thank you.

some of you may have figured out we're not home yet. we're only halfway there.

what kind of transmission?

you were gonna leave us out there!

when i give an order, i expect it to be obeyed.

unless somebody has got a better idea, we'll proceed with [name]'s plan.

oh no. you're out of your mind.

i say that we abandon ship!

we take our chances and just hope somebody will pick us up.

i'm for killing that goddamn thing right now.

will you listen to me, [name]?

you don't know that.

that's the only way.

we'll go step by step and cut off every bulkhead and every vent until we have it cornered, and then we'll blow it the fuck out into space.

is that acceptable to you?

that's amazing. what is it?

please don't do that. thank you.

you let him in.

by breaking quarantine, you risk everybody's life.

maybe i should have left him outside.

maybe i've jeopardized the rest of us, but it was a risk i was willing to take.

i do take my responsibilities are seriously as you, you know.

you do your job, and let me do mine.

you remember anything about the planet?

what's the last thing you do remember?

we're on our way home!

i don't trust him.

i don't trust anybody.

it's a robot!

let's get the hell out of here.

there is an explanation for this, you know.

i'm sorry, can i say something?

we don't know if it's intelligent.

i wanna go home and party.

you don't dare kill it.

how long before the ship blows?

why don't you just fuck off?

it looks like a warning.

i can't see a goddamn thing.

get out of the room!

the first thing i am going to do when i get back is get some decent food.

open the door!

oh god, it's moving right towards you!

get out of there! behind you! move!

this place gives me the creeps.

whatever it was, it was big.

i'll get the shuttle ready.

wait a minute. there's movement.

where's earth?

something's different down here.

it's got to be around there somewhere.

He doesn't even twitch, the cold and dark expression staying. People said his eyes were unsettling-- the eyes of a dead man. And right now, all the life of them was gone. It was a haunting glare that was on the girl. "Yeah. You might get figured out. Might go to juvie, might be sent out of state. B shouldn't have more kids in this goddamn house. You'd be better off."

The tone is flat and quiet and certain. It isn't he doesn't like the young girl. In fact? He likes her company to some extent-- more than Damian or Tim. But they at least understand with Jason? There's a line. Tim knows how to step back, Damian can hold his own.

"So you'll send it to Tim. Or Duke. And you'll sit your happy ass down because I'm not fucking around right now, kid." He has stepped forward, and he's towering over her. Jason is built like a wall, even though he was smaller than this kid when he fell into the green of the Lazarus Pit, it's color flickering now in his eyes. "And if you think I'm letting you out the damn door? You're mistaken. I'm not Bruce. I'm not Dick or Tim. I don't care if people get hurt as long as they aren't my people."

"Oh yeah, outing him sounds so safe. I bet I wouldn't be targeted at school or literally anywhere if people knew I'm being raised by Batman. They also definitely won't put two and two together with figuring out who Robin is." Full sarcasm in her tone then. This was not at all how she expected the conversation to go. This was supposed to evolve into a great team-up against Joker, not some lecture?

"Oh my god Jason, you sound worse than Bruce." Emma was most definitely annoyed that Jason was not on her side at all with this. She did understand it was bold to pitch this to the victim of the Joker, but shouldn't that fuel him?

"I can't ignore this lead, you know that, right?" She said in a more serious tone, looking up to Jason. Looking at Jason was a constant reminder of what could happen to her if she was even 'lucky.' Jason came back--and not well--, there was no way to guarantee the same would happen to her. All of that didn't matter to her, she wanted to listen to her gut. "People, lots of people, could get hurt." How many times did she need to say she was aware of the risk? "It'd be better if I go there with you than alone." She warned that concept to him if only to try and get him on board with her plan.

;; i'm actually utter shit at plotting so if i'm sending you memes, that's me trying my best

also i added my baby girl kateriina wayne the bitch child of gotham back to my multi if you want your muse to be bullied by a hero hater