rxnn

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [six]

warnings! tooth rotting fluff cause i wanna, mentions of stalking, mention of a gun for like 2 sentences at the very beginning (it isn't used and no one is hurt)

one, two, three, four, five

❥❥❥

...one week later

Banging at his door made Jason jump, setting his well-loved book to the side and reaching for the .45 taped to the bottom of the coffee table. It was one of many he had hidden throughout his apartment, a safety hazard, he claimed.

“Jason!” A familiar voice called through the door. “Sorry to bother you but it’s important!”

He was up in an instant, forgetting the gun, and scrambling to get to the door. As soon as his hand was on the handle, he almost ripped the door off its hinges.

“Hey,” he said, breathless, praying she didn’t hear him almost trip over his discarded boots to get to the door as quickly as possible. 

Shit.

He cleared his throat. “Everything okay?”

Everything was most definitely not okay.

Leia’s hair was messily pulled away from her face, her eyes were wide and quickly becoming glassy, her hands wrung themselves out as she looked up at him.

His mind drifted as she rambled on, he caught every other word, but not the full thing. How could he when tears were collecting in her eyes, a silent plea as her lips trembled slightly. He wondered if she would look at him the same way as he –

“So can you come over?”

“What?” His ears were on fire, they had to be.

“Can you watch Cal for a few hours? I didn’t plan on getting called in today, people just didn’t show up. I promise it won’t be long, I’ll get back as soon as I can. I just –”

“I don’t mind.” Jason interrupted her, shoving down any and all thoughts that were less than appropriate for the situation at hand.

Maybe one day – no.

The woman in front of him visibly deflated, shoulders sagging. She leaned against his doorframe, looking up at him again with her pretty smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

Jason’s heart skipped and he smiled down at her, heart feeling like it could burst. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

Her mouth opened and closed and she cleared her throat, neither of which Jason missed, a smug sense of pride filling him. “I’ve already got dinner made, feel free to have some. Just…please make sure Cal doesn’t hurt himself.”

Jason hummed, nodding. Easy enough.

Leia pushed off the door frame and walked toward her apartment. He snatched up his keys and locked his door before following her. 

“I really can’t thank you enough for this.”

“It’s not a problem. Callum’s a good kid and you need help.”

“You promise? What about your night shift you were telling me about a few days ago? The one that got you that bruise?”

Jason stiffened for a second. It was a half-truth he’d told her when she saw the large bruise on his cheek bone. With his quick healing (thank you Lazarus Pit), he hoped it would be gone by the time it was time to pick up Callum from the bus stop, but Leia had been off work that day and spotted him leaving in his civilian clothes as she came back from dropping Callum off. She had told Jason to stay put and she ran into her apartment and came back with frozen peas wrapped in a hand towel. She had offered it to him without a second thought and he took it, exhausted and sore from the night prior. Maybe it was because it came from her, maybe he was in more pain than he thought, but he sighed in relief when the pain evaporated. 

“You have to take care of yourself.” She had said, hands on her hips, scolding him. He wondered if she would say the same thing to him if he came home to her every night, if she would take care of him into the early hours of the morning like she had when he’d accidentally stumbled into her room. “How did you get that anyway?”

“I’m a bouncer.” He’d blurted out the first thing that came to mind. To his surprise, Leia just nodded in understanding. 

“Makes sense.” She shrugged then grinned teasingly at him. “Bet the other guy looks worse, huh?”

Jason had laughed, peas still pressed to his cheek. It had hurt to smile, but it was worth it.

“Jay? You coming?”

His heart caught in his throat at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time she’d called him that and he prayed it wouldn’t be the last. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” A cheesy grin plastered on his face, wondering if she’d call him on the nicknames. She didn’t. She shifted on her feet again, holding the door open for him so he could walk in behind her. 

He glanced around, taking in the space. Most of the walls seemed bare with a few boxes stacked in the corner. The walls that were decorated were full of photos of the small family, much like Leia’s room, and two large shelves that housed a few trinkets and books with worn spines. The remnants of Leia’s cooking hang in the air along with the faint scent of her perfume he’d come to adore.

The overall layout was similar to his apartment if not smaller which made him feel incredibly guilty. There were a few stuffed animals and toys scattered across the floor, a coat hanging over one of the chairs at the small table, and a few dishes in the sink, proof of Leia’s hard work.

The soft padding of feet brought him back to reality as he closed the door behind him, 

“Mr. Jason!”

A little body collided with his legs, small arms wrapping around him.

“Callum, honey, lets not overwhelm–”

“It’s okay,” he waved her off and shut the door behind him then crouched in front of the boy who grinned and waved. “Hey, little man. Mama has to go to work, so why don’t you give her a hug before she has to head out?”

Callum spun on his heel and hugged his mother who was smiling fondly at the two. Jason had never seen that smile before. A type of melancholy sweetness he’d never thought existed until now. She picked Callum up, hugging him close and kissed his nose. The boy giggled and wrapped his small arms around her neck. 

It was so domestic, a life Jason thought died in the warehouse. A normalcy that he would never be able to grasp. Now, he watched it stand in front of him and giggle at each other. 

“Go get your stuff and head out. I’ve got this one.” He risked reaching out and gently squeezed her arm, her skin warm and soft under his calloused hands. She let him and nodded, pressing one more kiss on Callum’s head before sitting him down. 

“You be good for Jason, okay?” Leia held out her pinky finger, a faux serious look on her face.

“Pinky promise!” Callum wrapped his much smaller pinky around his mother’s and shook it side to side. 

Leia nodded then gestured toward the kitchen counter where a dish was covered in plastic wrap. “Sorry about the mess, but feel free to have as much as you want.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She chuckled and shook her head before walking toward what he assumed was her bedroom.

Callum took Jason’s hand (the boy’s hands were only able to grab two of his fingers) and tugged him toward the couch where a plethora of legos were scattered across the worn rug. Most times, Jason had no clue how to act around kids, but after the short walks and small meets in the hallway, it became as easy as breathing. 

“What are you working on?” Jason sat on the couch, leaning forward to peer down at the small lego pieces (and make himself not look as intimidating, not that that ever mattered to Callum).

“It’s Star Wars.” Callum responded. “Can you help me do the…” he pointed at the small booklet with the instructions.

Jason chuckled, picking up the small booklet. “Was Mama helping you?”

Callum nodded, picking up two pieces and fiddling with them. “Yeah, but her phone told her she had to go to work…I don’t want her to go.”

“She’ll be back before you wake up tomorrow.” Jason tried to assure the kid.

Leia watched the two from around the corner, heart warming at the sight before her phone went off again, bringing the boy's attention over to her. She texted back, saying she was headed that way and walked over to stand beside Jason, placing a hand on his arm. Electricity shot up his arm from her palm.

“Love you, Mama!” Callum waved.

“I love you too, baby.” She turned to Jason. “Bed time is in an hour. I put his pajamas on his bed, Callum knows his routine. If something happens, you have my number.”

Jason nodded once. If she was paying more attention, Leia would have noticed how he looked at her, the silhouettes of hearts dancing around his dilated pupils. 

“Have fun!” He called over as she left, her responding laugh music to his ears.

“Be good you two!” 

And just like that, she shut the door behind her, her quick footsteps fading down the hall. When he could no longer hear her, Jason turned back to Callum who was fiddling with the corner of the rug, frowning as he looked at the shut door.

“Why don’t we see how much of this we can get done, yeah?” Jason tapped Callum’s head with the instructions. 

The boy’s face changed immediately, grinning widely as Jason pointed out the next few steps, handing him the small pieces he needed. This went on for a while, Jason moving to sit on the floor crisscross so he could reach all the pieces easier. Honestly, it was harder than it looked. With Jason’s bigger hands it was harder to maneuver some of the pieces correctly and more than once Jason thought about throwing the instructions out the window but decided that wasn’t setting a good example for Callum.

The incessant ringing of Jason's phone broke the moment and he frowned, rolling his eyes at the name that appeared and declined it.

They'd be fine without him for one night. Plus, Jason deserved a night off.

The ringing picked up again and Jason groaned, grabbing his phone and standing.

"Sorry, kid, this guy is gonna bother me till I answer. I'll be right back."

Callum nodded; face scrunched up as he focused on finding the pieces for his portion of the step.

Jason walked over to the kitchen, answering the call with gritted teeth.

"What?"

"Where are you? We've been waiting here for an hour!" Tim, Red Robin at the moment, hissed through the speaker.

"Busy tonight. You'll be fine." Jason replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The one night everything was going well for him. Out of all the nights these fuckers could've borrowed him it was tonight.

"And you didn't think to tell anyone?" Tim replied, probably rolling his eyes on the other end. Jason faintly heard Damian's chattering in the background getting progressively louder.

"It's none of your business what I'm doing," Jason replied, leaning against the counter, frowning at the floor. He could feel the start of a headache building in his temples.

“I found the gray one!” Callum cheered, holding up a single gray piece they’d been looking for for the past five minutes.

“Good job, kid.” Jason chuckled, watching him connect the pieces.

"Who was that?"

Jason ended the call, tossing his phone onto the counter. He sighed, his eyes catching a painting in the corner of his vision, and he froze.

Slowly, he turned, finding a crude painting of three people. He easily recognized himself, a smile painted on the face of his character. Next to him, Callum, much shorter and then on Callum's other side was Leia, dark hair framing yet another smiling face.

Despite how it was obviously made by the young boy not paying much attention to Jason's stiff, barely breathing form.

When he finally broke out of his stupor his fingers grazed over the painting, scarred fingertips reaching to grasp the normalcy of a child's drawing.

"You draw this, kid?" Jason called over, swallowing the swell of emotions

Callum scrambled over, peering up at the painting on the fridge and grinning. "Yep!" Then, he glanced at Jason's phone and his smile wavered, and sad eyes peered up at Jason. "Are you going too?"

"No." Jason said immediately, shaking his head. "Just my...uh...brother."

How could he? Especially now, after seeing the painting Callum made. The kid painted himself, his mother and Jason. Most would just glance over the paper, finding it cute and moving on, but Jason couldn't. It was something he never knew he wanted. He hadn't thought this would ever be an option in this second chance life of his. To have a child draw you in a place of care was something Jason had yet to experience and now that he had, he didn't know if he could ever let this feeling go.

"You have a brother?" The kid gasped, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "What's that like? I told Mama once that I wanted a sibling, but she said not right now. I heard it's like having a best friend."

Jason bit back any remark about his rather...rocky relationship with his brothers and instead smiled and ruffled Callum's hair.

"It is pretty fun most of the time. Now, let's keep workin', yeah?"

"Yeah!" Callum cheered, going back over to his spot, sitting crisscross on the rug.

Jason chuckled and looked over at the painting one more time, ingraining it in his mind, memorizing the beady eyes and wobbly smiles, the reds, blues, and yellows of their shirts, the sky, and the sun. A beautiful ideal of everything Jason had ever wanted, but never thought he could grasp.

He shook his head and moved to sit down too, careful to not step on the small Lego pieces scattered across the floor.

As they continued, Callum quizzed Jason: what’s your favorite color, who’s your favorite hero (his was Flash which made Jason laugh), what do you do for fun. Jason was as honest as he could be, leaving out a particular violent hobby that originally let him meet the boy’s mother.

“Mama likes reading too,” Callum pointed to the large bookshelves. “She used to read a lot while Auntie Matilda painted.”

“Auntie?” Jason paused putting together the pieces.

“Yeah, she went away after the crash. Mama says she’s in a better place, but we can’t see her anymore.” Callum teared up then, looking toward a picture on the wall depicting another woman with blue and pink hair split down the middle. She was beside Leia who was holding what he assumed was baby Callum wrapped in a green blanket. 

Callum sniffled, rubbing at his eyes.

“Hey,” Jason suddenly felt guilty, scrambling to stop Callum from crying. He’d never seen the kid cry so seeing the tears falling down his small face made him panic. “Your mom was right, y’know?”

Callum looked up, bottom lip trembling. “But I miss her.”

“I know, bud. But you’ll be okay. She wouldn’t want you to be sad, right?”

The boy sniffled again then leaned his head on Jason’s arm and he went stiff, not sure how to proceed. He didn’t mind that the boy’s tears stained his shirt, no, he could care less. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jason.”

“Anytime, kid. Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

Callum whined and gripped Jason’s shirt. 

“Can I not stay up a little longer? Please?” 

“Nice try, but you know what your mom said and I don’t think she’d be too happy to find you awake when she gets back.” If Leia hadn’t given him strict instructions, he would’ve bent to the kid’s will immediately, but the last thing he wanted to do was test Leia’s trust in him that tonight showed. He wanted to prove that she could rely on him.

Callum groaned dramatically but relented and got up, going to his room. Jason kept his ears peeled for any sign of Callum getting hurt. While listening, he cleaned up the legos, putting their half finished project on the coffee table and putting the small pieces back in their bags then into the box. 

“Mr. Jason!”

Callum’s shout made Jason rush toward the boy’s room.

“Everything alright?” He looked into the room, quickly scanning for intruders then Callum for injuries. Instead, he found Callum sitting in bed, grinning up at him.

“Can you tuck me in? Mama always does it.”

Jason sighed heavily, shoulders sagging just a little. “Sure, little man. And you can just call me Jason.” He winked at Callum who giggled as Jason pulled the baby blue covers over the pajama clad boy. 

“Okay! Good night, Jason.”

“Night, kid. I’ll be here till your mom gets home, yeah?”

Callum nodded, yawning and snuggling further into his blankets that Jason had just tucked him into per the kid’s request. Jason was honestly a little surprised the boy went down so easily, having heard about how kids his age were little monsters but Callum was the furthest from it. Sure, he had his moments, but he was a child so that was expected. He credited it to Leia’s parenting. 

Jason walked out, closing the door softly behind him. The temptation to wander into the room adjacent to Callum’s was beyond strong. It tugged at his conscience, what he knew would be a direct violation of her trust…but it was right there. 

Before he could give in, he walked into the living room, curiously picking up a book that was on the corner of the couch. There was a bookmark made from a receipt from a local coffee shop that Jason took note of. It was halfway finished, not Jason’s usual pick, a fantasy novel judging by the cover, but he was desperate to have something in common with her. To be able to talk about this book whether Leia enjoyed it, her favorite character, chapter, anything.

He sat there for two more hours, keeping his ears peeled for Callum, but it was otherwise peaceful, calm. The silence was different from his lonely apartment. Their place was whole, warm and inviting while his was bare as bones, the home of a ghost. He clung to this feeling, hearing the shuffling of feet outside the door, he tucked the book back where it was, having gotten a little past Leia’s bookmark. 

He stood, hearing the door creak open. And there she was, exhausted, but beautiful as ever. He walked over, footsteps light but enough shuffle so she could hear him approach.

“It’s me,” Leia called in softly, shutting the door behind her. She kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag to the side, smiling sleepily at him with her eyes half closed and hair messy. 

“Hi,” he said, peering down at her. “Callum is asleep.”

“Thank you, really, it means a lot. You’ve done so much for us these past few weeks, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.”

Her confession made his heart soar, but was overtaken by confusion when she pulled out her wallet, grabbing two twenties.

“Stop.” Jason rushed to put his hand over hers, stopping her from trying to pay him. He had more than enough access to money so taking anything from Leia, especially this, left a gross taste in his mouth.

Leia looked up at him with wide, confused eyes. She tried to push against his hand, but he gripped it just tight enough to keep it in place, pressing the money back in before tossing her wallet back into her purse with shocking accuracy. “Then how am I supposed to pay you back?”

Jason had no clue where the confidence came from, but the words came out so quickly, he couldn’t stop them.

“Maybe you could repay me with a date?”

The silence was heavy and thick, but then a smile broke out onto Leia’s face and Jason could’ve kissed her when she responded.

“I’d love that.”

Unbeknownst to both parties that were too in their moment of giddy smiles and warmth to notice the hints of a storm rising over the city’s horizon. A shadow growing in the distance took the form of Gotham’s protector. It peered through the window, curious as to why the Red Hood was absent, only to find him clinging to a civilian like she was the last good thing in the world. Maybe to him, the bloodied vigilante, she was.

Poor thing, the sun whimpered as it disappeared behind the clouds.

❥

“Where was Hood tonight?”

“He said it was something important but I thought I heard —“ Tim caught himself, brain too fuzzy to think of much else than getting in bed but was awake enough to remember that he wasn’t supposed to know what Callum sounded like. 

“Heard what?” Nightwing – now back to Dick Grayson asked, raising a brow at his younger brother.

For once in his life, Tim cursed his inability to rest seeing as now it left him scrambling for an answer.

“He’s with Leia isn’t he?”

“What?” Tim sputtered, not missing how casually Dick leaned against one of the stone walls, crossing his arms.

“C’mon, Timmy. I’m not blind.”

Tim’s lips pressed into a thin line and he prepared himself for a lecture. Instead, Dick smiled kindly at him and nodded toward the almost too large computer dutifully named the BatComputer. 

“So…you gonna share with the class or am I gonna have to sort through your shit myself?”

“As if you could get through half of it.” Tim snorted, glancing around to make sure Bruce and Damian had gone away for the night, leaving just the two of them in the Cave. 

Dick shrugged, pushing off the wall to stand behind him. “Fair point, but it’d be easier to compare notes, right?”

Tim chuckled, beginning to type in his many passwords to open his treasure trove of notes and know-it-alls. He wouldn’t show Dick everything, no, Tim was going to be a little selfish, but Dick was right: it was better to compare notes and learn more. Afterall, Dick had already met her and was as observant as any other trained Robin. There was only so much Tim could see – feel from behind a screen.

So, still weary, he pulled up the first, much less in depth version on a smaller screen in front of him, allowing Dick to pour over the information. 

“Thorough as always, Timmy,” Dick muttered as he scanned it.

“You’re not…usually you get onto me for this type of stuff.”

Dick hummed. “Well not this time. First, we’re both worried about Jason especially since he likes her enough to skip patrol.” Tim could’ve sworn Dick’s jaw clenched, but it was gone in a millisecond. “Second, she’s a curious thing, nothing wrong with a little background check. And third, well, if anything this is just keeping her and her son safe.”

Little…right��that’s what all the document Dick was looking at had. 'Just a little background check' his ass, but Tim perked up when Dick mentioned they were just keeping them safe. He was glad he wasn’t alone in that thought. 

It’s to keep them safe, they told themselves over and over and over again.

“Right…now spill.”

Uhhh sorry I dropped off for a sec there y'all my bad.

[rxnn]

No Prince Charming

(Batfam x Mom!Reader)

Anonymous asked:

Hello, I really like your work.

I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.

Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.

Sorry if it's too much.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.

It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Esther L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Esther was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 

Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Esther was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Esther it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 

A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Esther still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Esther knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 

“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 

Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Esther could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Esther had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 

But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 

“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Esther stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Esther ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 

As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 

Esther doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  

Esther had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Esther had nodded at her. Esther never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Esther would have too.  Esther can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 

Esther doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 

She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Esther is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 

“I’m sorry Richard.” 

“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Esther stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 

In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 

Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Esther could do besides bury her mother. 

“Bruce please.” 

“I am busy.” 

“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 

“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Esther was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 

When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 

Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 

She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 

“Honey, are you happy?” 

“Of course Mama.” 

“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 

Taking a deep breath, Esther hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 

She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Esther kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 

For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Esther is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 

The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 

“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Esther didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Esther spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 

“Is that so?” 

“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 

“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Esther laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 

“And the kids?” 

“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 

It's good to see some of that coming back. 

Esther hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 

“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 

When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 

“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 

“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 

Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Esther Wayne is now Miss Esther L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 

“Esther divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Esther’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 

He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 

Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Esther’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Esther’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 

He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 

Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 

“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 

Esther could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Esther was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 

Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 

He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”

“Holy shit.” 

“What’s going on- why is Esther’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Esther had the least amount of time spent together. 

Dick stared at his brother as the image of Esther smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 

“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, ��Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Esther is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 

Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 

Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 

Tim is panicking. The very thought of Esther leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 

Not once. Esther had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 

“Fucking hell.” 

++++

Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Esther in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 

She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.

Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Esther is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 

It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Esther came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 

“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 

 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 

“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 

“Esther, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Esther L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 

He knows this. She knows this. 

And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Esther has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 

It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 

He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.

“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn��t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Esther stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 

“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 

Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 

“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Esther’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 

“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 

Has to. The very thought of Esther being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 

A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 

So, of course they have had sex. 

Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Esther will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Esther will see this as. Esther will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Esther will see this as, is hate sex. 

Which is fine. If hate sex is what Esther needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 

Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 

It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 

Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel huma. 

Batman was never Prince Charming to begin with. 

_________________________________________________________

Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

[rxnn]

Dick/Bruce/Damian are 'she fell first but he fell harder' coded

Tim/Duke are 'he fell first but she fell when he fell out of love' coded

While

Jason gives hard 'he fell first and continues to fall harder the more he got to know her' vibes

[rxnn]

Jason Todd can kill a man with his bare hands, but with you, they're as delicate as possible, like you're a porcelain doll, able to crack at the slightest touch. His fingers hover over your skin, a light as a feather you would think you were imagining things. He's cautious, carful, thoughtful. Everything else in his life has broke. Even him. But not you, never you. You can't. You're untouched. Perfect, never to do wrong. He worshipped you like a goddess, like you created heaven and earth. And you did.

You created his earth. His world. You were his heaven. When he died, he swore he saw you. You were his everything, his reason, his purpose, his love, his hope. He was so in love it hurt. Every look shared between you, his mind swirled with possibilities. He couldn't live if something happened to you because of him. He couldn't live without his world. It was an odd place to be stuck in. Scared of staying, scared of leaving. He kept his distance. Touches were never long. Lips ghost against yours. It's like he's never fully there. Every night, the cold side that was suppose to be his haunted you. It's hard to love a ghost. It's like being in love with a figment of your imagination. You find yourself questioning if he's even real. Every time he comes home, he proves to you that he is. That brought upon its own set of questions, heart crying out for more of what it was deprived. Were you not enough reason to stay? Were you not enough? Was he yours like you were his?

You felt like the moon, forever revolving around the Earth, compelled to, even. Always at a safe distance, longing for more. That is, until one night. He comes home, smashing his helmet to the wall. The landlord won't like that, but a problem for another day. Without thinking he crashes into your arms, head buried into your chest. The Earth crashed into the moon. Hell will follow, you both knew that. But it didn't matter. You had him. He had you. that was enough.

[rxnn]

pjo x batkids

DICK & JAY

neither of them know they’re demigods, dick thought john grayson was his bio dad and jason thought catherine was his bio mom.

hermes met dick’s mom while she was traveling with the circus. he stayed with marie for about two years after dick was born (taking care of him while she performed) before leaving. a few years later she met john grayson and fell in love. she would often read dick greek myths but never told him about his parentage.

after dick’s parents die in gotham, he (10) is sent to juvie and then an orphanage, which he runs away from.

he survives on the streets for a few months by busking (performing tricks for money) and living in abandoned buildings that no one else can reach. he then meets 8 year old jason todd who is living with catherine and willis todd. they bond pretty much immediately and dick visits him every day. they do cons and steal tires together, plus dick is an expert pickpocket. he is there for jason when catherine and then willis die, and they live in willis’ shitty apartment together.

about a year later they are found by a satyr who explains that they are demigods and that there’s a summer camp for kids like them. they are VERY distrustful at first because that sounds crazy but also it’s a satyr so maybe they’re not lying. eventually they decide they might as well go, gotham is a shithole anyway.

they get to CHB without incident bc neither of them really attract monsters and the Gotham Stench hides their scents anyway. they are the first of the batkids to arrive at camp.

dick (11) is claimed by hermes about three weeks after arriving. him and jason (9) live at camp year-round. when he’s 16 dick becomes head counselor of hermes cabin.

JASON

son of athena. father unknown. was left on the streets and found by catherine todd, who convinced willis to take him in. he was living with them when he met dick. they immediately bonded and after jason is orphaned they live together, until a year later when a satyr finds them.

he’s not claimed for a while after arriving, but doesn’t really mind bc it means he gets to stay with dick. eventually claimed years later but still eats lunch with the hermes cabin cuz dick is his family.

CASS

hades/bruce meets lady shiva and falls in love with her deadliness. they have a child together but he has to abandon her bc the ‘no more kids’ pact the big 3 have.

sandra wu-san meets david cain while pregnant and tasks him with training her daughter. he agrees and lady shiva leaves soon after giving birth. cain does not know she’s a demigod. he trains her to be the perfect weapon and hades/bruce can do nothing about it without alerting his brothers to her existence.

her powers manifest after the first time she kills someone (at 8), and she runs away. she travels across the world for years until a satyr finds her and brings her to CHB. she (10) is claimed soon after, and enjoys living alone in the hades cabin. chiron and babs teach her how to read and speak, even tho she’s learned a bit over the years. she arrives a year after dick (12) & jason (10)

TIM

athena met jack and janet drake at one of their archeological digs, and admired their intellect. she gave them tim as a gift. jack and janet spent the first few years of his life at home with him, until they decided he was old enough to join them on their travels. he was an incredibly smart child and was very self-sufficient, so it didn’t cause them any trouble. he didn’t go to school, but had a tutor that accompanied them on their trips.

when he is 10 his parents die in a plane crash that he survives. after their funeral, he ditches NYC (where they were buried) and athena sends an owl to guide him to camp. he arrives at CHB about a year after cass (11) and 2 years after dick (13) & jason (11). he is jay’s favorite bio sibling.

STEPH

daughter of hermes. raised by crystal brown in gotham until a satyr finds her (11) and brings her to camp. frequently exchanges letters with her mom. arrives a year after tim (11), two years after cass (12), and three years after dick (14) and jason (12)

claimed few months after arriving at camp. she is dick’s favorite bio sibling

DUKE

son of apollo. one of the rare apollo children that can control light. raised by his mom in newark until they were attacked by a monster and his mom was injured.

he left in order to keep her safe, and went to CHB (which apollo had told her about, and she told duke about). he keeps in contact with her through letters and iris messages. he is claimed about a month after arriving at camp. he (11) arrives two years after steph (13), three years after tim (13), four years after cass (14) and five years after dick (16) and jason (14)

DAMIAN

similar to lady shiva, bruce/hades is captivated by talia’s deadliness. they have a child together, which she tries to hide from ra’s, but he soon finds out and learns he is a demigod. to him, this makes him even more fit to ascend the demon throne (the LoA is a cult, and the lazarus pit is magic).

damian is trained to defeat monsters and humans alike, and is gifted a stygian iron sword for his fifth birthday. bruce/hades had told talia about CHB, and she is finally able to send damian there when he is 10.

he arrives three years after duke (14), five years after steph (16), six years after tim (16), seven years after cass (17), and eight years after dick (19) and jason (17)

BABS

has been at CHB since she was 13, the same year dick & jason arrived. she is the new oracle of delphi. basically rachel elizabeth dare. is 21 when damian arrives. was paralyzed at 16 when she tried to interfere with a prophecy, and has been in a wheelchair since

HELENA

daughter of ares, became a Hunter of Artemis at 16 (the year duke arrived at CHB)

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [five]

warnings: arguing (jaybird is jelly), stalking

one, two, three, four, six

❥❥❥

Jason was seething as he fought to not break Dick’s nose.

Maybe that would wipe the stupid, irritating grin off his face. The oldest hadn’t stopped smiling since patrol started and Jason was acutely aware of why.

Jason was territorial, possessive, whatever you want to call it. The thing loomed over him like an inescapable shadow. He knew it existed, clawing at his subconscious, burning in his chest, threatening to swallow him whole. After growing up with close to nothing to his name, it was ingrained in him to hold anything he cared about away from anyone who may take it from him.

And he cared about Leia. He cared about Callum.

To admit it was something that kept him up in the early hours of dawn after patrol, especially after he’d seen Leia and Dick chatting it up a block away from their apartment complex. She was smiling, laughing. He tried, he really tried, but the thing on his shoulder bared its ugly, bloody teeth.

Leia and Callum had become his little slice of peace, a sign of hope. They were an island oasis in a sea of never-ending chaos, a breath of fresh air after choking down ash and smoke for a lifetime. 

Without even realizing, he’d gotten their schedule down to a T.

He started coming and going when they were. He waited a few minutes to go on patrol for the chance to have a longer conversation with Leia when she’d come back from her shifts tired and sore. She would offer him a pretty smile and she’d lean against a wall, telling him about her shift before picking up Callum from her neighbor. He figured out what time Callum walked home from the bus when Leia couldn’t be there and offered to start walking him back. That way, she wouldn't have to rush home and Callum was sure to make it back to the complex safe and sound. After some understandable hesitation, Leia allowed it and gave him her number to contact her. 

He had her number saved in his phone as L, one of the few marked in his favorites. 

Callum was a bright kid with a smile to match. He would rattle off about his day while they walked, barely pausing long enough to breathe. When the kid admitted he was having trouble in math, Jason started quizzing him randomly on their walks.

If Jason was being honest with himself – which didn’t happen often – he was finding the silence in his apartment unbearable as the echoes of the family of two across the hall flitted through the walls like a butterfly he could never catch.

The mother and son were unbearably normal, but that’s what made them so special. These were the people he fought for and here they were, giving him the time of day and treating him like a person rather than a soldier.

Dick didn’t understand it. He couldn’t. He was the favorite son, the favorite brother, the golden boy. He didn’t understand what it was to be completely alone without anyone to be there purely because they cared. Dick had people who didn't look at him like he was a monster, Jason did.

“Wipe that dumbass grin off your face.”

“What?” Nightwing’s head spun to the side, cheesy grin disappearing like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You heard me,” Red Hood replied gruffly, crossing his arms to keep his arms from swinging. “And back the hell off. She doesn’t need you.”

“Are you…are you calling dibs?” He had the audacity to laugh as if this was a joke. “Leia –”

Red Hood slammed Nightwing into the brick wall behind him so hard it was sure to leave bruises on the oldest’s back. He didn’t bother holding back his strength, a gift from his revival only proven as his teal eyes faded into glowing green under his helmet.

“Don’t fucking say her name.”

Nightwing didn’t fight him, didn’t push him off, just looked at him casually, putting his hands up. “Is it a crime to want to meet the girl that’s got my brother like this?”

“Fuck. Off.”

“What’s going on?” Batman’s deep, gravelly voice made Red Hood back off with a final shove. 

“Nothing.” Red Hood scoffed, the scowl of his helmet only conveying half of the look he was giving Nightwing. “Back off,” he hissed, modulated voice making it sound more like a growl. 

He didn’t bother sticking around, jumping off the roof. Hopefully beating the shit out of some low lives would ease the weight on his chest.

❥ 

Nightwing rolled his shoulders, watching Red Hood disappear into the night. He honestly hadn’t even realized he was smiling until Red Hood snapped him out of his stupor. He was going over his conversation with Leia, scrambling to think of another excuse to see her again which led to the thought of a real date, but the daydream was ruined. 

He wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction from Jason. Usually, the light teasing got him a grunt at best. Of course, he knew teasing Jason about his neighbor should've stayed a taboo thing neither of them brought up again, but could you really blame him?

Leia was a kind, smart, beautiful woman. Even though his brother just technically called dibs, his thoughts were just that, thoughts. They would stay there -- at least that's what he told himself.

“Care to explain?” Batman’s voice made Nightwing sigh.

While he wouldn’t usually fess up to something like this, he thought it best if Bruce heard it from him rather than anyone else.

“Remember that girl, Leia, that stitched him up a few nights ago?”

Batman squinted though it looked more like a glare and crossed his arms.

“Yeah, well I’m pretty sure he’s got a thing for her or something like that. I was curious so I happened to meet her yesterday and we hit it off. Now, Red is pissed cause he thinks he called some sort of dibs? Not sure honestly.” He shrugged though he knew damn well by Jason’s reaction that his feelings were deeper than just ‘a thing’. 

Saying it outloud made a pit grow in Dick’s chest. Jason truly cared for Leia, probably loved her. A part of Dick wanted to leave it, drop any sort of interest in the girl and let Jason be. Another part though whispered in his ear sickly sweet half-truths and promises.

“What’s so special about her?” Robin’s voice called down from his perch above Nightwing who was well aware he had been eavesdropping since Red Hood left.

Nightwing opened his mouth to scold the boy, but Batman beat him to it.

“Every person has value, regardless of who they are.” He uncrossed his arms and glanced around the shadows of the roof. “Where’s Red Robin?”

❥ 

Tim Drake was known for being thorough. 

Most days, it helped him pursue the cold cases that landed on his desk along with handling the many difficulties Wayne Enterprises had. It allowed him to juggle his double life with, albeit, little grace, but the job got done. That being said, it was also known that despite being thorough, that often led to a habit of a small obsession with finishing the job.

Tonight was yet another example of such…thoroughness. 

Leia Barnett was a curious case. Clean as a whistle with a past shrouded in grief, a combination that was undeniably odd in their world. A car crash had almost cost her and her son their lives and it took away her best friend. On paper she snapped into action as soon as she recovered instead of wallowing and rotting in her pain. She didn't let it control her, at least that's what he assumed. Yet another oddity in a world where it was so easy to get lost in one’s pain, to writhe in it and let it eat you alive.

She was smiling, moving around her kitchen with ease as she cooked a new pasta dish he’d seen pop up a few nights prior on her search history. Meanwhile, Callum sat at the small table painting. He’d smeared a streak of green across his nose a moment ago but didn’t seem to notice. He finished his homework a while ago, breezing through most of it as usual. According to Willow Creek Elementary’s database, his grades were fantastic in everything except math, but even those had been going up in the past few weeks.

A soft, mechanical click of a camera captured the moment.

Tim looked down at the picture, smiling fondly as it appeared on screen. One of many in his quickly growing collection.

He had yet to meet her unlike his older brothers, but he knew more about Callum and his mother than either of them, something he held over their heads even if they didn't know it. He knew Callum loved to paint, color, draw – anything that gave him the freedom to scatter an image across a surface was fair game. He knew he didn’t have many friends but the few he had were good kids (Tim had vetted each of the kid's parents to make sure Callum wouldn't be badly influenced).

He knew Leia’s favorite color was purple, lilac to be specific. He knew she enjoyed fantasy books but had a hard time finding time to read the many on her shelf. He knew she was bisexual, just like him (something that they could bond over) and that her mother was a horrible person, having kicked Leia out as soon as she found out. And he knew that she made it through that too.

Leia was strong. She was cunning and resourceful when it came down to it, he'd watched it in real time. She had a big, bleeding heart; her empathy knew no bounds. Tim wondered if that was why she humored Jason. Maybe she could see through the harsh exterior and pitied him which made him wonder what she would see in him.

In the beginning, Tim swore to himself that this was innocent, that this was just curiosity, he just wanted to make sure that she was clean. He promised it was to make sure Jason was okay as he spent his free time watching her work through the hospital's cameras.

He wasn't sure when it turned into...this. Once he started watching, he couldn't look away. His eyes were glued to his screens, writing and rewriting whatever notes he could scramble onto anything he could.

Tim was enamored by Leia. He often thought about meeting her, speaking to her instead of just watching over her and her son from a distance. He liked to think he was their guardian, much like he was to the rest of Gotham. He didn’t need to be there like Jason and Dick (though it would be nice). She was a blazing hearth, something to be cared for and watched over in fear that it would eventually fade. 

Eventually, the wind picked up, chasing away his thoughts, reminding where he was, who he was.

Who was he, someone who was tarnished by vigilantism, to stand in her warmth? How badly he wanted to join his brothers, escape from the shadows and step into her light. 

So, for now, a photo of what could be was enough.

❥ 

“Mama! Mama! Look!” 

The loud screech of the wood chair on the floor followed by the scrambling of little feet brought Leia out of her cooking. She was a creature of habit with a young child, so they tended to have the same meals on rotation. Someone could only have hot dogs so many times. However, she was going to try giving her picky six-year-old something new and pray she didn’t just spend good money and work an hour on this meal for nothing.

“Hmm?” She peered down as Callum tugged on her purple sweater, probably smearing paint on the edges. Thank goodness she bought the washable paint this time.

He was holding a paper behind his back, shyly smiling up at her.

“Let’s see it.” Leia waved a hand and leaned back on the counter.

“Tadaaa!” He held up his picture, paint still drying. “What do you think Mama? That’s you, then me, and that’s Mr. Jason! It’s us at the park.”

He pointed to a smiling stick figure with a blue shirt and blue pants which she assumed was her scrubs, then another smiling figure much smaller than the other two, and a third that was taller than the other two figures that had black hair and a white streak that was turning gray thanks to the mixing paint. Behind them was a bright yellow sun and a few gray clouds with smiley faces. They stood on green grass with a familiar yellow slide in the background.

“It looks great, honey.” Leia laughed lightly. 

“Do you think Mr. Jason would like it? He’s really nice.”

“I’m sure he’d love it.”

“Do you like him?”

Leia choked on air, staring at her son with wide eyes. “W-What?”

“Do you like him?” Callum’s head tilted to the side innocently. 

Leia stared at him before shaking her head. “Yes, I like Mr. Jason. He’s a good person.” She took the picture from Callum, holding it up to the light like she was inspecting it. “I think this is fridge worthy, don’t you?”

“Yay!” Callum cheered, throwing his small arms in the air and rushed over to the metal fridge, picking out the green T-rex magnet.

“Hmm. Where do you think?”

Callum’s face scrunched up, looking between the dozen pictures that decorated the fridge. “Above that one!” He pointed to the top corner, above one of a black kitten he said he saw walking home with Jason.

Once it was up, they both took a step back to admire the fridge that had almost no space left. Leia chuckled, picking Callum up and placed him on her hip. 

“It looks perfect.” She nuzzled the side of his paint covered face making him burst into giggles.

“Mama!” He whined, trying to wiggle away. 

“Okay, okay, go clean up. Dinner is almost ready.”

“But –”

“Shoo. The sooner you’re clean, the sooner we can eat.”

He pouted for a moment before going to wash his hands and face like she asked. While he went to clean up, Leia brought everything away from the stove and turned off the heat. She then walked over to the table, tidying up Callum’s watercolors, frowning when she noticed he was running low and made a mental note to go get some for him soon.

As she moved to put his paint brushes in the sink, she noticed a figure leap between the roofs across the street. It was only a millisecond, but she saw the cape fall between the buildings, disappearing into the shadows. 

Her heart stuttered, wondering if one of the bats was there to confront her about Red Hood. According to the news, Hood and the bats were on good terms again seeing as Hood had lightened up on his bloodier approach to crime. She waited for the shadow to move again, but when nothing happened, she sighed in relief.

Slightly paranoid now, she dropped the brushes in the sink before checking the locks on the windows then shut the blinds. 

Hopefully, it was just a coincidence.

❥❥❥

five

If y'all are interested in a face claim for bby Callum, I'm thinking Noah Jupe

[rxnn]

this is the ONLY damian wayne design i accept by the way. brown skin, a crooked nose, dark green eyes and thick eyebrows. keep that white-washed monstrosity away from me

[rxnn]

if the boot fits…

[rxnn]

Title: First Meeting (The Sunshine Verse)

Summary: You come face to face with the leader of the Batclan mob

Warning(s): Possesive behavior, scarring, kidnapping

You don’t remember being drugged, you don’t remember losing track of Lyre, you don’t remember going anywhere and yet you’re here, stuck in an unfamiliar room, a chain on your ankle. You’re unsafe, you know this, and there’s nothing you can do about it. The room is clean, not a speck of dust anywhere, and it smells like lemons, not lemon scented cleaner but real, fresh lemons. You hate it. It's not your first time being kidnapped but usually you’re confined to a dark room or messy, dirty basements that make you want to throw up. This is your first time being kidnapped since joining the force (you had a really unique childhood okay)  and you can’t help but wonder why you've been taken, if someone thinks you'll have real information for that.

Soft, well muffled sounds start up next to the door but quickly fade to silence. You hate it here, the thick silence, the not knowing where your best friend (brother) is, the chain that rests on your ankle. Speaking of the chain, you haven’t tried to walk yet and you can’t help but be curious. Slowly, carefully,, you get yourself out of bed and walk to one of the doors, letting it creak open. It;s only a bathroom. There’s one other door in the room and you’re pretty sure that you know where it leads. Out of here. You start walking towards that door but the chain stops you before you can get too close. Going back a few steps, you make a few loops in the area that seems safe and attempt to run towards the door. Immediately the chains are pulling you back and you slam to the floor. Well whoever has you certainly isn’t an idiot, which makes your job all that much harder. 

Eventually you pull yourself off of the floor and crawl to the bed. As soon as you’ve arranged yourself in a manner that doesn’t hurt too much, you’re asleep. 

“Lyre,” you call, listening to the echoing chirps of the birds, trying to ignore the sounds of “lyre, lyre, not lyre,” to themselves, loud as can be. It’s foggy out today, but not so much that you can’t see in front of you. The walk to work is weird without your best friend, but peaceful, even though the birds are chirping loudly, mocking birds calling Lyre’s name. As you’re approaching the police station, you note the crowd of people, how their murmurs grow and change. They’re all saying his name. You get closer and your best friend (brother) is just laying there, spread out on the pavement, his blood staining everything a terrible shade of red. You kneel down, staring at him. Lyre’s eyes are wide open, unseeing and you can’t help closing them. Your hands are red now. 

You wake up screaming. 

It takes a minute of blind panic for you to calm down and become aware of your surroundings again. You’re in the same room as yesterday and still sore as fuck. The only real change is that there’s a chair in the middle of the room, well more like a throne (you may or may not role your eyes) and a man sitting on the throne. He’s wearing a venetian carnival mask, black with a white bat around each eye. Every gothamite knows it as Sire’s mask. 

You’ve been kidnapped by the fucking bats. Shit! 

“May I help you?” You ask politely as you can manage. Sire’s mask, cold and porcelain keeps smiling,golden even as the man takes off his fucking mask. You’re going to die, you’re going to fucking die. You look down so you can’t see his face. The man sighs.

“You can look up. I have no plans to kill you. Rather I’d like to thank you. You took care of my son while he wouldn’t allow me to.” Now you’re confused. You chance a look up and meet the eyes of bruce fucking wayne, gotham’s biggest  philanthropist. You don’t even know what to say, because the man who’s been credited for saving Gotham is the one keeping it in order as the cruelest man on the east coast.  “I don’t understand Mr.Wayne. I don’t know any of your children.” 

Bruce Wayne smiles faintly, “Not even Jason?” Every single person born and bred in Gotham knows the tragedy of Jason. It’s said that a mobster went after him and killed him, and in revenge Mr. Wayne swore to oust the mob from Gotham city. Knowing what  you know now makes you wonder what really happened. “No offense but I’m pretty sure that Jason is dead.” Wayne laughs bitterly. “We thought so but when your friend Lyre had to go to the hospital,, my doctors found something pretty interesting. A blood match. Would you like to guess who exactly is the match” everything starts to fade out and go dizzy. You were the one that made Lyre go to the hospital because he’s always hated hospitals. “Was it Jason?” 

“It was Jason.” Wayne unless his legs, neatly rearranging himself. “I’d like to tell you a story.” You shrug, looking away. “When my son was a child, he lived on the streets. One day I had a meeting in Crime alley and he was crazy enough to try and steal the tires off my car. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. It’s so much like the Lyre you know that you know, mischievous and carefully reckless, always doing something that he shouldn’t be. What was real? “And when I came back to my car, there was this tiny vicious little boy fighting my guards and fucking winning. I’ve always been fond of stubbornness and there was something about Jason’s desperate desire to survive that stuck me so I brought him home with me. He’s been a member of the family ever since.” 

When Wayne talks about Jason, you’re reminded of a Pet owner talking about their best show animal or something. He’s not talking about them like they’re humans but as if they’re prizes to be won. He sounds like a collector, marveling over his trophies. You can’t help but want to upset this man, can’t help but dislike him. 

“If he was a member of your family, why did he leave you?” Maybe he’ll hurt you, maybe he’ll kill you but either way you’re going to mouth off for lyre. Wayne’s expression doesn’t even change.  “I have six other children,” he explains, “and half of them have anger issues. Do you really think that you’re going to phase me?” 

Your logical mind reminds you to be polite, your desire to live tells you to go apeshit. “That doesn’t answer my question,” you snap, ignoring his question all together. He doesn’t even blink. “Jason left because he didn’t agree with our methods. He did not understand the reasons I allowed my youngest to work in the basement at twelve nor did he appreciate our love. “ You’ve heard the stories from Lyre about his family, about the scars he carries from their love. Now that you've met Wayne you can’t help but wonder how many of those scars are physical. There’s a scars on Lyre’s back, tally marks, five of them to be exact. Are those from here? Are his tattoos from here? 

“When do I get to see Lyre again?” 

Wayne smiles Serenely, and for a moment he doesn’t look like a monster, instead he looks soft, and almost genuine. “When Jason calms down enough to be safe to be around again.” You tilt your head, wonder what he means and carefully do not ask. “Am I stuck in here permanently?” Wayne shakes his head politely. “No you’ll be coming to dinner tonight and Alfred will help you order anything that you might need.” That’s not what you mean. You want to go home. “Can I go home?” “This is your home.” You scoff and bear teeth. “My home is a little apartment by the wharf, not a mansion full of crazy people.” 

Wayne’s smile turns sharp, vicious. “I’d like to remind you that your privileges hedge on your good behavior. It’d be very easy to lock you away until you’re feeling more polite.” You get the feeling that wayne isn’t making a threat. He’s making a promise. 

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [four]

one, two, three, five, six

❥❥❥

Lo-and-behold, Leia and Callum woke up again about a few hours later to get Callum on the bus.

Leia, to put it simply, felt like shit as she locked the door behind them, pocketing the key. Her hands and shoulders ached from the previous night's activity. 

When she finally heard the soft click she pocketed the key and turned, seeing Callum rubbing his eyes, yawning. She sighed and ruffled his hair making him smile sleepily up at her then shyly stretch his arms upward, making grabby hands at her.

Leia chuckled and picked him up, putting him on her hip and began walking them out of their building.

"We're gonna try our best today," she whispered the mantra she told him every morning as they walked to the bus stop. "We're gonna do amazing things."

Callum nodded, tucking his head under Leia's chin, gripping her puffy jacket in his small fist.

"We are kind, we are…smart," Callum continued, yawning before snuggling more into Leia's warmth as the cold morning breeze rolled over the pair.

"Good job, baby." Leia cooed, pulling his hat further over his head.

When they made it to the bus stop, Leia wished she didn't have to let him go, but he wiggled from her arms and waved goodbye as he climbed up the steps behind the other kids. She waited until the bus pulled away from the stop and disappeared in the morning rush.

She sighed heavily and looked up at the cloudy Gotham sky, wondering if it would start raining once again. She hoped not. When she snapped out of it, she spun on her heel to head back home and get some extra sleep but was met by someone slamming into her followed by the sting of something cold seeping through her shirt.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" The person said, backing away with a nervous chuckle.

Leia didn't look up, looking down at the iced coffee stain that now decorated the top of her shirt. Thankfully, it was older and had suffered its many years of use with its faded black letters that spelled out her high school.

"It's okay.” It really wasn't but she didn't have the energy to argue, so instead, she brushed the person off with a wave of her hand, finally looking up to smile assuringly at them. It wouldn't be worth it to make a big deal out of this. "Accidents happen, I've suffered worse than a coffee spill." 

The man was a little taller than her, only by an inch or two. He had short black hair that framed a his slightly tanned face and dark blue eyes. Strong build with broad shoulders, not near as muscular as Jason, but definitely fit. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while the other held the now empty culprit of her stained shirt.

"Here.” He took off his scarf that matched his eyes. "To cover the stain."

"Oh, no, I'm al—"

"I insist." He ignored her and wrapped the scarf around her loosely, still warm from where it'd hung around his neck. 

Leia hesitated, fighting a flinch when he adjusted it around her neck to cover the stain. Once he was done, he smiled, proud of his work.

"Thanks..." She trailed off, unsure about where to go from here. 

"Richard.” He held out his hand, a charming smile on his lips. "Sorry I should've started with that, huh?"

"Nice to meet you." She couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking his outstretched hand. "Sorry for bumping into you. I should've been paying attention."

"No, it's my fault." Richard shook his head before pursing his lips and clearing his throat. "Can I get you a coffee? There's a shop around the corner I've heard is pretty good."

Though she knew which one he was talking about, Leia hesitated again. He seemed nice enough, charming even. Probably nicer than most of the stand-offish people in Gotham.

"Please? I feel really bad." Richard chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

There's really no harm in free coffee, is there?

"Y'know what? Sure, who am I to deny a free cup of coffee?"

A wide, pleased smile spread across his face.

"Great! Thank you."

"I should be thanking you."

He shook his head, still smiling and placed a hand just below her shoulder blades, leading her through the morning rush crowd.

"I don't think I caught your name." He tilted his head down toward her ear to be heard over the chatter of the people around them.

"Leia," she replied as they turned the corner.

She wanted to tell him to take his hand off her as it made her skin crawl for some reason. To her luck, he dropped his hand to his side as soon as they rounded the corner, turning down a smaller, less busy street.

"Pretty name."

Leia hummed, raising an unimpressed brow at him, a teasing smirk adorning her lips. "Do you say that to every girl you meet?"

"Nah, just the ones I spill coffee on."

"So this is a common occurrence then?" She teased, holding the door open for him to follow her as they entered the warm coffee shop.

"What can I say? I'm a clutz." He shrugged.

Leia laughed, tucking some hair behind her ear that had fallen from where she’d pulled it away from her face. He joined, shaking his head as they walked to the cashier. They both gave their order and he paid, innocently asking what she did for a living.

"Oh, I'm a nurse," she shrugged, making sure to leave out where she worked specifically. One could never be too careful even if a cute guy was buying her coffee.

As they continued chatting while they waited for their coffee, Leia realized where she recognized him from. He was Richard — rather Dick — Grayson, the son of Bruce Wayne aka the guy plastered on the evening news every other week for the newest charity announcement. She quickly decided to leave it be and not make a big deal out of it. The guy was nice enough to give her his scarf then buy her a drink because he felt bad about spilling his on her, so the least she could do was not freak the fuck out about who his dad was.

"That's cool! Got any fun stories?"

"Plenty. What do you do if you don't mind me asking?" She didn't know a lot about Bruce Wayne and his family, just that he had a shit ton of kids and was a playboy from what she'd heard her coworkers gossiping about. 

"I'm a detective in Blüdhaven."

"Blüudhaven, huh? What are you doing here in Gotham?"

"Just visiting some family." He hummed, gazing around the crowded street.

"That's sweet," she cooed, missing the way he rolled his eyes.

"Leia!" A barista shouted.

Leia perked up and walked over before Dick could, thanking the barista, and walked back, handing the Dick his own drink. She caught sight of two women waiting for their own drinks whispering and pointing between herself and Dick causing her stomach to drop. God forbid someone thought this was a date. Now that she thought about it, most of the cafe was either trying to not look over or were blatantly staring.

"Thanks again for paying, you didn't have to." Leia smiled, putting a little more space between them and trying to ignore the stares boring into her skull.

"It's no problem, really.” He glanced over her shoulder at what she assumed was the two whispering women. "You wanna get out of here?"

"What a wonderful idea."

❥

This wasn't Dick's plan, but it was working even better than he'd hoped. He wasn't supposed to spill his coffee on her, that was an accident. Originally, he was just going to bump her shoulder, compliment her, start a conversation, the whole charming guy shebang. He was curious about why Jason trusted her so much. But it went completely off course when she'd turned on her heel and knocked into him, successfully spilling his coffee all over her shirt.

He'd noted her caution and how she monitored her responses as she kept to the point and without little detail. It was the bare minimum, smart, but it didn’t matter much seeing as he nabbed a copy of Tim's deep dive into her person. When Dick asked Tim for it, Tim had rolled his eyes and said she was clean (the whole family was painfully aware of Tim's habit of deep dives on people, so it wasn't a surprise that he'd already vetted her). It took a little convincing, but Dick managed to get a copy.

Tim was right, she was clean. Graduated high school with top marks, went to good college and graduated with her BSN and immediately went into the workforce. She’d been caring for Callum, her son, who just started 1st grade at Widow Creek Elementary, since she was twenty years old. According to the police reports Tim dug up, Callum had been left on their doorstep when he was barely a few months old. There was no record of his parents and after some fighting in court, she got custody. Sadly, that only lasted until about a year ago where Matilda Kernell, one of Leia's closest friends, died in a horrific car crash in January that year according to their local newspaper.

Dick watched her out of the corner of his eye as she fidgeted under the looks of those in the cafe. He really hated the attention he and his family received.

"Thanks again for paying, you didn't have to." Leia smiled. He noticed her shift away from him and he had to fight a frown.

"It's no problem, really.” He glanced over her shoulder spotting two whispering women that were not so subtly pulling out their phones. "You wanna get out of here?"

"What a wonderful idea." The relief in her voice made him feel a little bad seeing as the attention was based on him.

He positioned himself behind her, blocking any view a camera would’ve gotten of her. She opened the door for him again, a blast of chilly October air slamming into them.

As they started walking back toward where they bumped into each other, they continued their small talk. He offhandedly mentioned that he spoke fluent Italian just to spark conversation and he swore she almost got whiplash from swinging her head so fast. With a huge smile, she confessed that she was fluent too, having learned it for a friend. She also admitted she wanted to go to Italy one day. Dick jumped at the opportunity and told her he’d been. Somehow, her smile widened, tension leaving her as he told her what he’d seen and done.

“That sounds amazing,” she admitted, glancing up at the sky as the sun broke through the clouds.

“It really was.”

They came to a stop and Dick found himself scrambling for an excuse to talk longer. 

“Sorry again about your shirt.” Dick started, keeping an eye out for cameras. “Want me to walk you back to wherever you're off to?”

Leia paused, glancing toward the street they’d come from. She bit her lip before looking back at him with a gentle smile, walls back up.

“It’s daylight, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the coffee.” She held the cup up in a salute, taking a sip of it. “Oh! Here.” She pulled the scarf off her neck then handed it back to him before he could protest.

“It was nice meeting you, Richard. Try not to spill your coffee on anyone else, yeah?” She laughed, the sound a melody he’d never heard before. 

And just like that, she disappeared into the crowd.

Dick watched her go, standing in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, clutching the still warm scarf. It was as if her leftover heat crawled up his arm to his face, turning his cheeks and ears pink. He was brought away from his thoughts when someone bumped his shoulder. They didn’t bother apologizing, just continuing forward.

Dick scoffed under his breath, ignoring the heat and pulled his scarf back around his neck. The smell caught him off guard: baked goods and eucalyptus. He took a deep inhale of it without really thinking.

It made him feel…light.

He looked back in the direction Leia had gone and smiled to himself, toying with the ends of the scarf. He hasn't clicked with someone so quickly and genuinely in a long time. Sure, there had been Barbra, Kori, and more than a few others in between, but this was different.

If she picked up on who he was, he couldn’t tell. She treated him like he was just…normal. It was so rare for someone to treat him like that: to not look to him for answers, as the standard for a hero, or as a billionaire’s son but instead act as though he was just a person going about their day.

Dick couldn’t blame Jason for liking Leia in the slightest and he found himself hoping to see her again.

[rxnn]

steph: why did duke just deck green lantern in the middle of the street, in civvies?

tim: they have beef

steph: cool, ten bucks says duke wins

jason: twenty says this becomes a meme 'random highschooler beats the shit out of justice league member' and hal wont show his face in gotham again

tim: forty, bruce will buy him a car for humiliating hal out of gotham

[rxnn]

could I request randomly shouting “floor is lava!” In front of the batboys? I’m in the mood for a crack fic

It was a dreary day within the Wayne manor and everyone was bored out of their minds. Nothing they did was enough to cure the boredom they were subjected to that day.

However a day of hope appeared before them in the form of you bursting through the door, holding a unbothered Alfred the cat in one hand and a confused Jerry the Turkey in the other, screaming: ‘THE FLOOR IS LAVA!’

Dick is pushed to the floor and stepped on by a mysterious assailant but manages to get up and use his acrobatic skills -cheat skills as Jason would like to call them- to project himself upwards to the expensive chandelier and clung on for dear life.

He was 100% safe.

Smug bastard and his cheat codes -Jason Tood, certified older brother hater aka the younger sibling.

Jason pushed dick onto the floor and step onto his back, somehow trips and lands flat on his face against the carpeted flooring. However he quickly recovers by picking himself back up and bolts towards the curtains instead, where he tries to cling onto them for dear life as the sound of fabric slowly ripping could be heard by everyone.

Jason was on a time limit before he was sent plummeting back to the floor and towards his second death. 39% survival rate.

Damian is the first of the bunch to move into action as he -somehow- managed to grab Titus in a feet of hidden strength fueld by adrenaline, throwing the Great Dane over his shoulder, and still found it within himself to then clamber up the book shelves in the library where he stayed to watch the chaos below him like he was god.

The bookshelves are wooden, it was only a matter of time before he and Titus would have to change to a different location. 50% survival rate. Titus is a good puppy.

Tim shuts the computer, sets it aside and follows Jason’s example by lying down on the floor and awaits his fate with a blank expression. ‘My time has come.’

0% survival rate, instant death but Tim don’t give two shits, he’s lived long enough.

Duke: poor lad is freaking out trying to find a good spot and settles with standing on the table with the janky leg as he was forced to continuously fight for his balance atop of it.

He’s lost too many times just to loose again. He hates floor is lava with a vengeance. 50% survival rate if he doesn’t fall off and looses his fight with the table.

Stephane: the mastermind behind the whole ordeal, cackles as she stays lounging on the plush sofa, sipping her drink unbothered by the consequences to come through the door.

50% survival rate, may drop lower if she tries to reach for her phone that she had left on the table where Duke was. She hadn’t thought this whole thing through admittedly.

Bruce Wayne: heard the chaos and went to see what was happening and sighs upon seeing his children, plus you, practically having destroyed the library over a stupid game.

He’s too old for this shit but ends up showing all of you up either way by standing atop of the stone mantle piece of the fireplace, menacingly.

10000% survival rate bc it’s Bruce Wayne.

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [three]

warnings! mild description of a wound (aka blood)

one, two

❥❥❥

…two weeks later

Jason Todd wasn't fond of people.

He enjoyed the silence that accompanied a good book or soft music playing whenever he cleaned his guns or bandaged himself. That being said, when Callum waved excitedly at him, a smile matching the sun itself, he couldn't help but waver. Especially when the boy's mother offered him her own soft smile, guiding her son past him in the hall.

"Hi, Mr. Jason!" Callum cheered, stopping in front of the man, leaning his head at a near ninety-degree angle to look up at him.

"Hi, Callum," he hummed, glancing toward Leia. "Where are you headed off to?" He asked, mildly curious.

Though their conversations in the hall were often brief and without much substance, Jason found himself looking forward to an interaction that didn't leave him with bruises or a bad mood.

"Well," Leia ruffled Callum's hair and the boy giggled, "someone got a 100% on his spelling test so we're going for ice cream."

"Yeah! You wanna come with us?"

That definitely caught him off guard.

"I'm sure he's busy," Leia quickly cut in, sending Jason an apologetic look.

"Sorry, kid, maybe next time."

The kid's frown almost made him want to take it back. Almost.

" 'S okay…" Callum trailed off, bottom lip jutting out as he fiddled with his fingers.

"Let's go get that ice cream, yeah?" She offered, nudging her kid toward the stairs.

"Ice cream!" Callum pumped his fist in the air causing both of the adults to laugh softly. They glanced at each other, but Leia broke eye contact, looking back at her son.

"See you around, Jason." She waved politely before walking after Callum who had rushed down the stairs cheering 'ice cream!' Over and over again.

"Yeah…" He trailed off, tucking his hands in his pockets, watching her go.

Leia didn't look back and he caught himself wishing she would.

Jason pressed his lips together in a thin line, glaring at the ground before scoffing and walking back into his apartment. He tossed his keys on the counter, ruffling his already messy hair and shutting the door with his heel.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice the shadows moving around the dark corners of his living room.

"No quip today?" Tim's voice made him tense up, any peace and quiet he'd found talking to Leia and Callum was gone in an instant.

He did not want to deal with this today.

Jason glared in the direction the voice had come from, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over one of the two old island chairs he'd picked up a while ago.

"What do you want?" He huffed, turning on a few lights, rolling his eyes when it revealed Dick and Tim in normal clothes.

"You've been off your game recently, just wanted to check in." Dick shrugged, sitting in one of the plush chairs.

"'M fine, now get the fuck out," he turned his back on them and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a mug and turning on the coffee pot.

"Really? Or does it have to do with your new neighbors? Leia and Callum?" Tim prodded and Jason clenched his fist, glaring at his brother.

"How do you know about them?" The words slipped out faster than he could stop them.

Dick rose a brow from his seated position, a small smile appearing that matched Tim's teasing grin.

"Detectives remember?" Dick shrugged then held up the note that once accompanied the cookies that Jason couldn't bring himself to throw away.

Jason scowled at him and stormed over, snatching the paper from him, putting it back on the counter where it had sat for the past two weeks with the cookies he'd eaten the night after he got them. He would've rather drank acid than admit they were a close second to Alfred's.

The note had sat on the counter for the past two weeks. He debated throwing it away every night, but every time he tried, the colorful letters and smiley face at the end made him pause.

"Why'd you keep the note?" Tim tilted his head, crossing his arms, genuinely curious. As far as he knew, Jason didn't have many lasting romantic relationships, especially with a civilian.

"Get out. I won't say it again."

Jason poured himself a cup of coffee, placing some creamer and sugar in it before taking a sip. He honestly wasn't the biggest fan of coffee, but it did the job. If he had a choice, he'd have tea, but he didn't have the patience for it, especially now that his brothers had broken into his home and were trying to interrogate him.

Dick watched him carefully and gestured for Tim to leave. The youngest in the room rolled his eyes before shrugging and walking out the front door, waiting for Dick just outside (probably eavesdropping knowing him).

"She seems nice," Dick commented, glancing toward the door like he could see through it and into the apartment across from Jason's. "Cute kid too."

Jason grunted.

Dick sighed and stood. "You comin' on patrol tonight? We've got that drug bust happening." He asked, walking toward the door Tim had left out of.

"Yeah." Came Jason's gruff reply.

With that, Dick left and Jason locked the door, grumbling to himself. He backed away, glancing out the window toward the setting sun.

From here, he caught sight of Leia and Callum walking back toward the complex, both with ice cream and their hands swinging back and forth between each other while Callum jumped over the big cracks in the sidewalk.

Jason's heart tugged a little at the sight and he sighed, shoulders sagging before closing the blinds and continuing with his plans before he went onto patrol.

❥

To say Tim was intrigued was an understatement.

Jason, always gruff and frankly an asshole to the rest of the family, was obviously hiding something about his neighbor.

Tim considered it being a case he was trying to handle solo which was the most probable. However, that didn't make Tim feel much better about her having a kid around, especially if it has to do with drugs or an arms deal.

He also considered the fact that Jason finally found someone he liked especially with how aggressive he was when he snatched the note from Dick. Then again, Jason was always aggressive.

Tim continued thinking (as he always did) even when they got back to the manor, and he hurried off to his room.

He knew he probably should leave it alone, but he figured he should at least do a background check to make sure Jason's neighbor wasn't using the kid.

So, he sat at his computer and got to work.

❥

"Fuck!" Jason cursed loudly as he landed on the fire escape.

"Red Hood, come back to the Batcave and we'll get you checked out," Batman's voice ran through the comm in his ear.

Jason rolled his eyes.

"Not necessary." Then he turned it off — or at least he thought he did — not wanting to hear any more of their annoying voices for the night.

He leaned against the brick wall for a moment, trying to gather his wits. It had been a hard night and he'd gotten shot and was a bit delirious from the drug it was laced with. Thankfully, Tim had injected him with the cure so he would be fine, just drowsy for the next day or so.

His vision was blurring, and he cursed again, hobbling over to his windowsill before stumbling in. He noticed immediately that the wood floor of his bedroom looked odd even with his vision going in and out.

Before he could do anything else, he collapsed with a loud

THUD

Leia jumped, a noise from her bedroom startling her awake. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, cursing under her breath as she put her unfinished book on the coffee table.

She stood as quietly as she could, making her way through the hall and grabbing the metal bat she'd gotten when she'd moved to Gotham. She gripped it tight, checking Callum's room and finding him asleep and sighed in relief.

She swallowed thickly, listening closely for any other noise coming from her room but heard none. No movement, no hushed voices, silence. She would've left it alone, but she decided she couldn't risk it and quickly dialed 911.

Stupidly — oh god she felt like such an idiot — as she raised the phone to her ear, she gripped the bat tightly and peeked around the corner into her bedroom.

Shock clawed at her chest, seizing her windpipe.

Red fucking Hood was passed out on her bedroom floor.

"911, what's your emergency?" A woman's voice rang through the speaker.

Leia froze. Red Hood was a vigilante, former crime lord (that's what the news said anyways) and that was putting what he'd done nicely. He put away criminals and had plenty of blood on his hands unlike the other vigilantes of Gotham.

He was dangerous.

But he was also lying on her floor, blood gathering in a small pool beside him. She considered calling for an ambulance, but they would unmask him and that could be dangerous for everyone involved. Her mind was spinning, evaluating her options at a rapid pace.

"Hello? Is everything alright?" The woman asked, sounding worried.

"Yes." Leia made her decision, voice much clearer now. She set the bat next to the door and rushed over to the fallen hero. "I'm so sorry this was an accident." Then quickly hung up and tossed her phone on her bed.

Her mind shut off, panic easing as she eased herself into what she'd practiced near every day for the past few years of her life. She could help him. She was more than capable.

"Hello? Sir?" She prodded his shoulder, jerking away in fear he would attack her. "My name is Leia, I'm a nurse, I'm here to help, okay? I won't take off your helmet, but I need to know if you're awake."

No response though she could pick up what could've been snores, but it was distorted by the mask. She sighed and stood, walking into the bathroom connected to her room and gathered the First Aid kit she kept handy.

Leia tried to be gentle, she really did, but it was hard to move an unconscious man who had three times her muscle mass by herself.

She started with the basics, checking his pulse and breath rate, writing it on her wrist with a pen she kept tucked in her hair to keep track of it while she worked.

She then rolled him over and rolled up his shirt just enough so she could stitch together a nasty wound that looked like it was from a bullet. He flinched and groaned as she worked and she whispered assurances whenever he did, telling him everything she was doing before she did it.

An hour of diligent work later she was done patching up the vigilante. The blue rubber gloves on her hands were a dull crimson and arms ached from the awkward angle they'd been forced into, but it was done.

Leia fell back against her dresser, making sure not to get anything else dirty. She shut her eyes for a moment and looked down at the hero at her feet. Sighing heavily, she patted his shoulder and walked away to throw what was left of her supplies away.

When she came back, he was still unconscious (as far as she could tell) and she crouched next to him, checking his breath and heart rate again, noting that they'd leveled out.

"Hope you don't do this to random civilians," she chuckled to herself then stood, stretching. "I'm sure you're gonna be sore in the morning so I'm gonna get you some pain meds, yeah?"

No response, of course.

Leia laughed to herself, muttering as she left. "What the hell am I doing?"

She rubbed her eyes, yawning, wanting to bang her head against a wall from how tired she was now that the adrenaline had worn off.

The clock on the oven read 5:23am and it made her groan internally knowing she'd get an hour of sleep before having to get Callum ready for school. Thankfully though tomorrow — today, really — was her day off.

Leia eventually came back into the room, humming quietly, her arms full of pillows from her couch, a case of pain medication, and a glass of water.

She lifted the masked man's head enough to fit two pillows under his head and neck to make him a little more comfortable on her hard wood floor.

"Jesus, what is that thing made of?" She grumbled, huffing as she put his head down as gently as she could. "Whiplash must be a bitch."

If she hadn't turned away, she would've seen Red Hood's breath stutter.

"Anyways, water and pain meds are to your left. I'm leaving, please don't steal or break my shit. The window is unlocked so…yeah…" another yawn caught her off guard. "I've got a note next to the water, so you hopefully don't think I kidnapped you or something. Night, Red Hood."

True to her word, there was a small piece of paper next to the water that explained what she did and what she'd monitored. She considered inviting him back just in case he needed a safe place to get patched up, but she shot that thought down quickly remembering the small boy in the room over. God forbid someone found out Leia was taking care of the Red Hood. Callum and herself would immediately become targets.

With that, she got up and left, stumbling over one of Callum's stuffed animals, cursing as she went.

Leia glanced at Red Hood one more time and sighed, yawning. With that, she closed the door and pulled a chair from the dining room table and placed it under the handle. She doubted it would do anything against him if he really wanted to get through, but it gave her a little peace in mind that she'd probably hear him if he was gonna come after her.

Once it was situated, she grabbed the metal bat and walked to Callum's room, locking the door behind her. She gazed down at the small boy, curly hair tousled, arms and legs spread out like a starfish.

As quietly and as gently as she could, she lifted the boy and put him back underneath his covers before sliding in beside him, making sure she was closest to the door.

Callum's eyes fluttered open and he yawned.

"Mama?"

"Hey, baby, it's okay, go back to sleep," she cooed, pulling him to rest on her shoulder.

"What's…wrong?" He asked slowly, quickly falling back to sleep in his mother's arms.

"I…had a nightmare…" she trailed off.

Callum hummed and hugged her arm.

" 'S okay, Mama. Like you tell me, it was…just a dream…"

And just like that, he was asleep again and Leia followed quickly after.

❥

Dick — Nightwing at the moment — realized he'd been too late as he watched a woman begin to patch up Red Hood, her muffled voice echoing through his earpiece seeing as Red Hood hadn't turned it off before he passed out.

He'd been sent by Batman to check on him despite Jason's obvious attempts at handling things himself. Jason must've been in bad shape if he stumbled into that poor woman's bedroom, Nightwing couldn't imagine what was going through her head.

He was going to step in as soon as he heard she was calling 911, but he saw her drop to her knees, a determined look coming across her face, and he paused. He watched as she carelessly tossed her phone to the side and spoke to the Red Hood, one of Gotham's most terrifying protectors, in a soft, gentle voice.

"Nightwing!" Batman's shout startled him.

He winced. "Everything's fine," he assured everyone listening. "Red Hood is safe as far as I can tell."

"With some random woman?" Robin — Damian — demanded.

"I doubt she's a random woman," he responded, the pieces clicking together as he noticed that Jason's window stood unbothered a little further from this woman's — Leia if he could take a guess.

"What does that mean?" Red Robin scoffed.

"Do you know her?" Batman ignored Robin's comment.

"Red Hood seems to, he's conscious." Nightwing responded, amused, taking a seat on the building's edge to get a better look at the situation.

Even from this distance, he could tell Jason was at least slightly conscious judging by the way his hand twitched. Nightwing was honestly surprised Jason was allowing the woman to patch him up since he rarely let Alfred help him. 

Silence filled the comm on their end as she introduced herself, proving his theory correct and talked through what she was doing, adding random comments or small stories as she worked. He listened, chuckling every now and again. She obviously knew what she was doing, her hands moving expertly despite how tired she probably was. Her voice was calming, soothing almost. For a moment, Nightwing feared it was some kind of spell. 

"Nightwing, I want you to stay there until this woman is gone and you get him out of there, understood?" Bruce’s voice came over the comms without the voice modulator.

"Loud and clear," he replied.

And just like that, everyone was silent, listening to Leia seemingly talk to herself as she worked on her 'patient'.

Nightwing chuckled softly as she finished up, finally making his way over to their building, landing without a sound on the fire escape and ducking inside. 

“That was nice of her.” Nightwing noted, glancing around the room. It was decent sized, paint peeling in some places, but overall, pretty nice for this part of town. A bed tucked in the far corner with plenty of pillows. A few pictures decorated the space. Most were of Leia and a small boy he assumed to be her son, but there was another on her dresser of Leia, her son, and another woman. A few drawings, obviously made by her son, were scattered around the space as well. It was cute.

Red Hood grunted, sitting up slowly. With his helmet on, Nightwing couldn’t tell what his expression was, but he had no doubt he was scowling at him. “Why are you here?”

“Just wanted to make sure you got back to your place." Nightwing shrugged, offering his hand.

Red Hood glanced at it then sighed, taking it and letting Nightwing heave him to his feet seeing as he’d lost a little too much blood and was exhausted after almost two weeks straight of patrols with no real break.

“I can make it back to my place alone, okay? Don’t make me a charity case,” Jason grumbled.

“Sure." Nightwing shrugged, ducking out the window looking for anyone that may see Red Hood and Nightwing leaving the apartment.

Meanwhile, Jason glanced around Leia's space. If he had to choose a word to describe it, it would be cozy. And that fit her perfectly, he decided.

The drawings on the walls made him smile under the helmet. His attention turned to the note on the floor, and he picked it up slowly, careful not to undo Leia's hard work.

He could still feel the ghost of her soft hands and gentle words.

He didn't know why he did it, but he tucked the note in his pocket then moved the water and pills to her dresser so she wouldn't knock them over.

He thought about leaving his own note, maybe he would've if Nightwing wasn't waiting on the fire escape for him.

"You coming?"

"Shut up."

Dick just laughed, the sound ringing in the alleyway.

Jason ducked out of the window, barely dodging begonia on the windowsill. How he missed that coming in baffled him.

"See ya, Hood."

Jason merely grunted then headed toward his own apartment.

❥❥❥

four

[rxnn]

Devil Sins

The Batfam and the deadly sin that colors their life, and the virtue of their darling

TW:  Yandere behavior (obsession, possessive behavior and unhealthy ideations), mention of suicide ideation and s/h as well as gore

Tags: Yandere! Batfam x reader

Bruce Wayne: Pride    

Within Gotham, it's common knowledge that when crimes wretched hands come down to slit your neck you do not clasp your hands and pray to God, no - you whisper your tears into a puddle of blood and give your reverence to hold out for Batman. It is under no exaggeration that divinity in the cursed city leaves justice to crumbled bones and puddles of teeth and tongue, and its cruel master in the form of a man with no face. It's fitting, for a city of corruption and bile. Gotham’s god is its dark knight with steel for bones and scripture of flesh, man made Godhood with flawed creation in its wake. But man has never been meant to hold godhood, the pathway of immortals too cruel and demanding, even with those who have wielded its deadly blade of eons it rips into them. Tearing at seams and breaking into them until their pieces can be glorified in the stained windows of churches.     

Batman is divinity within mortal confines. There have been prayers and hymns in his name, retribution in his name and the painful dependency of creator and creation waged on him. Batman is an entity that is nothing but iron and brimstone, unbending and unfeeling, but Bruce Wayne, the man who created this creature whose only split from being a monster is a bloodied and beaten code, is painfully human. He feels each failure weigh on him, aging him past his own casket and decaying him even as he still breathes, it cradles his head during the night and whispers the screams of those he has watched fall.

Every time Batman stands tall, Bruce can feel something small and young turn decrepit and vile in his stomach until it erupts from him like bile from the back of his throat. He thinks it must be the humanity of a son who in truth, died with his parents in that alley. It slices his open, cutting his flesh to ribbons, and gorges itself on his organs only to fill him up with something inhuman. It's with bated breath with lungs that have been clouded with smog, that he waits for Batman to finally rule Bruce Wayne unfit and strangle him entirely.   

Darling: Humility

The Darling acts as the humility to his pride, dragging him to his knees so archaically Batman shrivels in your presence. You are his humanity given form, the antithesis to his claim of being the perfect hero. You lead him by the nose, walking him on a leash so flawlessly he thinks you might have been born just to keep him grounded. Every scrape or bruise seems to repel the mission Batman strives for and replaces it with nothing, but a man stricken that he hadn’t done better. Each burn or scrape, even a paper cut drives guilt into him and brings a physical ache to his body like you had beaten him with a bat. Each mark burns the shame of a failed hero and leaves only the pathetic begs and whines of a man that can only be human. 

If he could, he would spend his days by your side, affected by the intrinsic need to provide for you, leaving you physically and mentally unable and robbed of the ability to want. It's a desire that burns molten in his chest and drips down his limbs, it burns and aches at him as if trying to rip out of his chest and lick at your hand like a depraved dog. He would do anything for you, would render the world silent, bring you a heart on a platter, violate himself so terribly he could not know anything but his adoration of your presence and yet it still feels inadequate. A simple compliment from you leaves him bereft of ambition and scorn, leaving him on his hands clasped in prayer. 

Batman may have been his creation, but Bruce Wayne is your own tool, use him to get what you want, change him for your own needs just keep him at hand. He'll be loyally and wholly (obsessively and blindly, almost rabid) yours. God bends to nobody's will, but Bruce Wayne knows down to the electrons snapping in his synapse that his place in this world is by your side, whether you point, whenever you deem fit. You’re his god, and himself nothing but a faithful follower. 

Richard Grayson: Lust

Perhaps born from watching his parents, who should have been a constant, die in front of him a painful death filled with tourists' eyes and misplaced faith, right outside of his fingers grasps Dick has an inherent need to feel. For him, want runs in his skin like a conscious, whispering what he craves, giving voice to a voracity so impossible that it turns physical. He has known denial from the start, whether it be the blood of the man who stole his parents, a want that made his tongue ache and crawled at his ribs until his bones crackled, or the sweeter craving of a relationship, something that watered at his mouth. Want is something that has haunted him, growing obsessively until it reached lust.

Though sexual desire, of course, is something that is often attributed to it, it's not the only way lust presents itself. For Dick, it appears when he closes enough to reach out and feel flesh on his own, something tangible and it shocks him like a bad dog until he reaches out to soothe his skin. It appears in the dead of night when he can feel no other warmth than his blankets, even as he arches out and reaches pathetically into the air. It is a call of pathetic loneliness, so strong that when his younger brothers are cuddled drowning within him it is to try and get rid of the sudden echo, to try and merge them into one, until he is no longer Dick Grayson, and somehow a part of them. Somewhere in between the heat of a lover and the loyalty of a son, he realizes that being a part of a couple isn’t enough.

He wants like a man starved, all instinct and need, like a child who has been ripped out of his mother’s grasp before she has fed him fully, there is always something he’s not quite satisfied with. What he truly craves is a constant, a union, melting himself, and another so they can be poured into the same mold and make something new, indistinguishable from the other. And despite the carnal behavior of his want, he knows how to get it. He smiles full of charisma, grins with the sun and serenades with the moon to get his fixes, but each one leaves him starved, stricken for more. Like a bad addiction.

Darling: Chastity    

The darling brings a chastity in his life, though not to say he wants less, but in the way a husband will fully devote himself to their wife. It’s the deceptive nature of a couple announcing a pregnancy and accidentally alluding to nights spent in bed. The darling hits a spot for him that leaves him mind numbingly euphoric, like a high that is reached after weeks and weeks of suspension. Every kiss has him feral, no better than an animal and chasing after you, every negligence has him whining by your feet, clinging to you. He grows incredibly dependent on your presence, on your touch and everything beneath. 

With you his sharp mind bleeds into instinct, and the charisma he wields to pry himself into others good graces is left uselessly at the door. It’s a delusional dreamy trance, every hug sends him tumbling down further and further until his panting against your neck and thinking of nothing but you, you, you. He can feel himself slipping into your existence, swearing he can taste the coffee you drank in the morning, and can feel every cut or bruise you get without him present. His want for you is wet, sticky and binding, threatening to pull you over until you lose your mind along with him. 

It’s almost laughable how pliant he is with you, a touch to his arm can have him following you over a cliff, a peck to the cheek and suddenly his on your lap whining for more. For all he is hard and angry, full of vigilante fights and bruised skin you wouldn’t even have to hurt him to kill him. With you, he can indulge himself fully, so much so that he wants no other. In fact any other touch leaves him lacking, so utterly entranced by you that he can no longer feel another’s skin unless it’s yours.  To him, his darling and himself cannot be separated, they won’t go down in history but their names, but by the title for lovers. Nothing to define themselves but their own love. 

Jason Todd: Wrath

Anger, to Jason, is an old friend that lives in his bones and whispers in his ears with every movement. He has used it well his entire life, a melting anger of forged iron against his father to keep him defiant, a indigent anger filled with a son's tears for his mother, the roar of inequality and social class that steals from the batmobile and the blinding and rash rush that leaves him as robin. It’s at first a soft motivation that keeps him alive, any good street rat knows, or any street rat still breathing that to stop means you’re as good as dead. He covets his rage, it's youthful and idealistic and keeps his heart beating.

Of course, after the pit (after being beaten to death in a warehouse of gasoline and gunpowder, watching his own blood relax as he’s robbed of his own, coming back ripping from his own skin and drowned in green only to find out his father-father-had left him unavenged. Left him replaced and gone) his anger has grown into something primordial. Too old to be Jason’s but so familiar he leans into it. It grows from his bones like ivy and twigs, poking out against his flesh and sewing itself under his skin so that the slightest breach sends it out to take root.  Jason’s wrath is something that threatens to leave him choking blood, and yet it keeps him alive with the threat of keeping him running forever. It is the anger of a child on the poster who has never been found, and their stomach full of worms that burrows into his own. The tears of a case under the corrupt policeman’s file, and the ghosts scream in a house empty of their future. It’s all those who have ever been a statistic (as he has been) boiling over under his skin. Because Jason knows the wrath of the dead and unavenged intimately, it burns his memories in green and leaves his chest heaving with permanent mourning of mothers whose children were robbed and never found. It threatens to scratch away from the inside of his ribs until its nails finally rip him open in a mocking autopsy and wail into Gotham’s plugged ears.

Jason's violence, his actions and words, the bullets in his guns and glare under the hood are all reactions to this. As long as the world spins, as long as humans turn a blind eye to victims, and allow the injustice of the world to mold them, he will move. All his actions are an answer, a bullet through a man's cranium, the vengeance of a young girl with a ripped dress, a severed head, the relief of a child who watches their family bleed out for powdered death. Each and every shout of Red Hood, every puddle of blood he coats the ground on proof that he is still moving. Because Jason’s wrath is old and an answer, to the boy in the warehouse, to the boy in the ground and mounted not as a son but a soldier. It’s a solution to the fear that manipulates his chest that should he stop moving he’d be buried again. 

Darling: Patience

Jason is a man of action and violence, fear turned into anger because above all he is a man cursed with empathy. With his darling the fear that curdles his insides soothes, like a mother rubbing her child’s stomach and singing a special song to keep the pain away. The world will keep moving regardless of him taking a break, and he has the blinding panic of staying in time, and yet his darling is a perfect encapsulation of time. Something preserved beautifully, a painting stuck in motion, the words on his books that are remembered through words and tongue. The tint of red becomes a pastel pink, and suddenly he’s so, so weak.

With his darling he closes his eyes without fear of waking up decaying. A sweep of your hand against his cheek will pull a sigh of pleasure from his throat suddenly free of phlegm and blood, even a harsh hit will feel divine. His darling functions as a sort of “moment” , something trapped in time and solely for Jason. Much like opening a book, the story is forever clashing but the words stay all the same, waiting for the reader. It’s with you the anger that has kept him moving for so long, washed away, like the dirt clinging to his skin under water. It's freeing and leaves him shakily bare, with you he weeps, with you he grows and stays forever yours. You are life itself, something ancient and timeless at the same time. The nostalgia of losing a tooth and excitement of a birthday party wrapped into tender song and softer skin.  

It’s a common sight to see him cry when with you, prayer in the form of tears that are just for you. He spends his days in a lovestruck haze, almost as if he’s been drugged. For Jason there is no constant, no surety but you. He would do anything to keep you perfect, safe and just as you always are. He'll care for you much like a beloved heirloom, of course he loves you with a severance that would scare most, but you are something he seeks to preserve. Nothing can hurt you, will hurt you, you’ll remain untouched until you reach out yourself. Your presence alone is enough for him to intoxicate himself with, bask in forever. But should you give I’m a sliver of your attention, allow him to enter your perfect little world? He’ll be lost forever.

Tim Drake: Gluttony

The most intimate feeling Tim knows is hunger, perhaps not for food but for anything and everything else. Obsession is his most familiar form of companionship, stuffing picture after picture of his object of affection until he can drown in them. In his house of echoing walls and emptiness he comes to emulate it. He feels hollowness in his soul, some nights he wonders if he took a knife to his own side what he would find. Would it be organs? Perhaps a heart? Or would it be the void that has eaten all that made him and left him with a constant hunger to fill himself with? For a time, he manages to satiate himself with Batman and Robin, stalking and drinking them in over and over until one day it's stolen and left him with nausea so terrible. (And Tim still remembers the rawness of his skin as he is thrashing in his room, his throat bleeding from his wails of a boy he never met)

The more he gets the more he hungers, it’s something horrific and apathetic that leads him to chasing after his own fill. Case after case solved, fact after fact filtered and sorted through, Tim is insatiable. Like a well oiled machine, the fuel that keeps him going only works to find more fuel, it's a never-ending cycle of something that can no longer be deemed as human. Half of this can be attributed to the fact that it’s all the same to him, an angelic charity to a garish murder eh takes them and feasts on them all the sometime efficiency is more of a hook then anything, pulling others in so he can feast on them, devouring their mannerisms and habits, licking up and chewing on their thoughts until there nothing left of them. 

One could blame this on the fact that the identity of “Tim Drake'' has never really been sought out, so there’s no substance to him. Something useless will obviously stay shiny, clean and unused, it's logical in all the ways it makes Tim want to throw a tantrum. It drives his mouth to salivate until he’s drooling over another function he can consume, another person he can mirror, another morsel to disappear within himself. And yet with each new meal he can only feel the void echo back louder, as if he had never eaten at all. Like a fire consuming too much wood that it withers out in anger, as if the trees that had been cut never existed in the first place. It threatens to force Tim to disappear forever.

Darling: Temperance

The temperance his darling offers is in the form of a craving rather than actual fulfillment. After just his first taste of you, Tim has been enraptured for you, nothing comes close to your unique temperament, your reactions, everything that makes you, you. You leave his mouth watering for more, nothing else can settle against his tongue the way you can, nothing can mimic the way you fill his head with static and leave him filled to the brim. He takes whatever kindness you give him and uses it as an invitation to learn more about you, an invitation to bear himself fully. Any preference you have, a favorite color or show, even general food preference will settle into Tim as if it had been his all along. Where he used to drink black coffee, has grown a taste for your favorite creamer, your playlist will be playing in the back of his head as he switches through W.E. work, it’s all you, you, you. Like a puzzle finally coming together,

Tim’s brain finally quiets down and is forced to digest. Any sort of attention you give him is a five course meal, any scorn is just as quickly devoured. You don’t quite stop the habit of obsession, but you give it direction. Tim has never known such direct want until you, a den he has no plans to stop his indulgent habits. He is ravenous for anything you toss to him, your voice, a text, an opinion, even just a little note, whatever you do stays, It’s a blessing and a curse. Because while the hunger pangs back in your presence, now nothing else can even come close to keeping him occupied.

He’ll obsess over you, crafting himself to be your perfect companion just so he can stay by your side and continue feeding. Everything in your life has a shade of him, your job, your house, your hobbies, even your electronics, each one a special situation he created to have you just a bit closer. Nothing else can come close to you, he’ll make sure you're well taken care of, all he asks in return is you.

Damian Wayne: Envy

Damian’s life is a unique contradiction. He was born the sole inheritor of a Thorne he is meant to fight for, something only he can own and yet is so unworthy he is kept from it. It forces him into a sense of jealousy, inadequacy and egregious entitlement. He could have anything he needs, but only as long as he earns it, it gives him a longing sense of feeling everything is out of his reach. That even should he hold the sword in his hands it cannot be called his. Not in the way a dog can call its food their own, and not in the way a writer can crow over their own creation. It leaves him painfully envious of others, of their right to their own possession, it leaves him vicious and poisonous. Part of the reason he squirrels away animals with so much intent, is because they’d be “His.” He’s their sole owner, and as beings with a conscience they can prove their loyalty. 

His envy leaves him with harsh words and even deadlier scars, it forces him into a fine weapon and while it’s an ideal state for an heir it’s a broken state for a child. It leaves the boy wanting, fearful and anxious. His envy is young and childish, something not allowed, and it’s something weaponized. It’s part of the reason he defends the title of robin so freckly, not only because he believes himself right, but because it’s his in way the throne cannot be. Because it’s not a legacy he’s supposed to take, it's one he steals from himself. It’s his, in a way nothing has been since he first cried from the pit.

But even then, the title of partner that so many others have worn, cannot soothe the constant ire, the lashing out that comes with fear of being replaceable, of being nothing but a role, comes with. Because Damian has been born as his mother’s son, as his father's legacy, but not as his own person. It makes Damian feel unfit, unusable in the way he has seen his mother discard students who cannot kill. It burns him, kills him and with time he thinks he might just be a husk. Damian is nothing but competency and a perfect successor, a successor will never be their own.

Darling: Kindness

Ironically the kindness that tempers his own envy is not his own but instead, actions of his own darlings. He fully gives himself to you, gives you his very purpose to do what you want with. Should you order him to kill, order him to die, or to live he would do it without complaint. Tell him you want his heart and he will pry himself open and hand it over with a smile, tell him you want his laugh, and he will laugh himself manic until you tire of it. He is a fine blade, a weapon that has seen battle far too much already, and it’s your own kindness that stops it from going to battle. In essence Damian has made himself a role right by you, but has given up his autonomy of your manipulation. You’ve become his master, his owner and his loyal weapon.

Every action is your doing, every remark is for your benefit, and by giving himself to you, he can have you in a way nobody else can claim. Every smile, every hug, every word that you speak to him is something unique from a dynamic he has hand crafted, and therefore uniquely his own. He will store you away from others, wary of letting them stain you, and even more wary of letting them steal you. You’re his, his love, his heart, his blood, his purpose on this earth, and he cannot let another’s touch deter you from this. His darling is a salve to his aches, a bandage that wraps tight enough to manage to hold him together, and his actions are that with the purpose of binding you to him. Your purpose will be each other.

Author's Note: Another reupload! Previously known as lovesick-laboratories.

[rxnn]

Lost Time

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!wife!reader

Summary: Jason comes home to you, his wife, after a mission and makes up for lost time.

Warnings: fluff and comfort! brief mention of the Lazarus Pit and human trafficking

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: I really want to write a lengthy oneshot for Jason but I don't know if I capture him well enough. I don't get many DC requests but I love them so much!!

Picture from Pinterest (WFA Jason >>>)

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

Jason Todd leaves, it’s what he does. Sometimes there are warnings, direct and indirect, but other nights he leaves while you sleep or simply doesn’t come home when he should. That’s who he is, what he does. There is more to Jason than meets the eye; he isn’t just Jason, Red Hood, or Bruce Wayne’s dead and nearly forgotten son. One piece of Jason makes him whole: being your husband brings him back, every single time. Jason leaves, but the time you spend alone is spent in confidence that he will come back to you, even if he’s broken and crawling.

While Jason is in Blüdhaven helping his brothers with a mission that Bruce doesn’t know about, you spend the time alone missing him. He hates leaving you, but you understand. That doesn’t mean, however, that you just wait for him to come home. Being married is supposed a 50/50 arrangement, yet you have given everything to Jason and there is not a single thing you wouldn’t do for him.

Tonight, nearly 96 hours after you last saw Jason, you make yourself comfortable with one of his books. The pages are yellowed from use, and highlights and notes fill the margins and the empty pages. Each word reminds you of Jason, and though you miss him, you refuse to look at his empty side of the bed. In the time since he left, promising to come back to you with a kiss and a tap to your wedding ring, you have read several of his books, cooked his favorite meal, and baked his favorite goodies. The distractions you created are all centered around Jason because despite what you tell yourself about needing to think about other things, Jason Todd takes up every single one of your thoughts. He’s captivating, and you never want to escape him.

Your phone beeps as you finish a page of Frankenstein. After taking a calming breath, you read the message from Barbara.

The bats are Gotham-bound.

The message makes you smile, and you rise from the bed to prepare for Jason’s return. He has come home without a scratch, drenched in blood, and everything in between. In sickness and health, you vowed, and you plan to keep it. With his favorite food already prepared and water heating in the kettle on the stove, you sit on the couch and wait for his entrance. The front door is behind you, and you watch as the Red Hood lands on your fire escape and expertly navigates into your home. His home.

The couch is empty by the time he turns from the now-closed window, and your arms loop around his waist as he moves. Jason chuckles at your immediate attention and pulls his helmet off.

“Miss me?” he asks.

You can hear his smile in his voice, and as Jason’s arms wrap around you, you sigh and release every fear and worry that had been pushed into the back of your mind.

“I need to shower,” Jason says, though he doesn’t move his hands from your back. “Blüdhaven is gross.”

“And Gotham is known for its cleanliness,” you argue.

“Get off,” Jason grumbles.

He raises his hands to your shoulders and easily pushes you back. You look at him as you raise your hands to hold his wrists. Jason’s gaze is soft and his touch is softer.

“Ten minutes,” he requests quietly.

“Someone needs pampering,” you tease. “Take your time. There’s food and tea if you want any.”

“Just wan’ you,” he murmurs.

Jason leans in and kisses your forehead quickly. He avoids your hands as you reach out for him. You laugh as he walks away, and the sound brings Jason home. He’s physically home, yes, but he is only home when you are completely and wholly with him.

The water echoes through the apartment as Jason enters the shower, and you prepare two mugs of tea before carrying them into the bedroom. You would wait forever for Jason, but as you lean back and close your eyes, content listening to him move through your shared home, you know that you’ll never have to wait long.

When Jason enters the bedroom clad in a pair of Wonder Woman sweatpants and smiles at you, everything seems better. The darkest Gotham day can’t cast a shadow on what you and Jason have. Before Jason left, he told you all you needed to know about the mission, and you won’t bring it up again. If he wants to talk about it, he will, and you’ll listen.

You raise the blanket as Jason approaches the side of the bed. He doesn’t hesitate to join you and pull you closer. After looping your arms over his shoulders, you push your fingers into Jason’s wet curls and twist them gently around your fingers. His white streak is closest to you, yet you concentrate your attention elsewhere to keep your eyes locked on his.

“You read it again, didn’t you?” Jason asks.

His eyes threaten to flutter closed, but he forces them open to talk to you.

“Read what?” you whisper.

“Tell me what I missed,” he requests.

You know he can see his books piled on your nightstand, but you enjoy the smile he gives you when you pretend not to know what he’s talking about. Jason pulls your hands away from his hair, opting to hold you against his side. You lay a hand over his heart and gently trace the bottom of a scar. You know his scars by heart, and each story behind them is ingrained in your memory.

“Not much,” you answer after a moment.

“Did you do anything? Because everything you do is important, and I want to hear about it,” Jason argues.

You lean closer and spread your fingers flat against his skin. His heart thrums steadily beneath your hand, and you think your heart beats in time with his.

“Maybe you just married me for the post-mission cuddles,” you say.

“Or maybe I just married you because I love you. I love you for accepting all of me and loving the parts that I don’t let anyone see.”

“Jason,” you hum.

“You didn’t tell me about what I missed,” he replies.

The first raindrop hits the window, and Jason is reminded that he’s back in Gotham. He’d move to Metropolis and listen to Clark as long as you were by his side, but being in your arms in his home town is a feeling unlike any other.

“I’ll take it you didn’t go to the manor,” you deflect.

“Why would I when I have a beautiful wife waiting at home for me and four days to make up for? Lost time with you will always be more important than Bruce.”

You sigh before you begin telling him about what you did. There isn’t much to tell. You read one of his books, cleaned, cooked, baked, and read another book.

“You baked?” Jason interrupts. “And didn’t bring it up until now?”

“I thought time with me was more important.”

Jason furrows his brows as he turns, pulling you to lay on top of him. When you first started dating, Jason was hesitant to initiate any sort of physical touch. Not long before, he had been Gotham’s most-feared crime lord and the rage caused by the pit was still present. Now, there is nothing to stop Jason from touching you: no fear of hurting you, no concern of scaring you away, and no doubt that you won’t love him once you see his darkest secrets. Jason’s scars, his past, and his nightly activities make him the man you love, and you love those parts of him, not the other way around.

As you cuddle with the man who recently scared human traffickers into turning themselves in to the authorities rather than running into him again, you simply enjoy being together. Your husband Jason and Red Hood Jason aren’t the same, yet you love them both equally.

“Do you really want to make up for lost time?” you ask over the rain.

Jason thinks your voice is more soothing and melodic than any rainstorm could dream of being. He pries his eyes open to answer, “Every second of it.”

You nod and lay your head against his chest. With your hearts pressed to one another and your fingers intertwined with Jason’s, you know that you are loved, and Jason knows you will always be here when he comes home.

You’re nearly asleep when you mumble, “’S a lotta time.”

Jason smiles but doesn’t move because he doesn’t want to disturb you. “Never enough time with you,” he whispers against your temple.

[rxnn]

Guard Dog

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist and yours resting on his thighs as you tell him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [two]

warnings! workplace harassment? (lemme know if i missed anything)

one

❥❥❥

…a month later

"You hit the call button, Ms. Fischer?" Leia greeted the woman who'd been on their floor for the past few days.

"Hello," the kind woman smiled. Ms. Fischer had been put in Leia's part of the crowded ICU after she'd been hit by a car that had been set off track by Mr. Freeze coating the street in ice for some reason or another.

He failed (obviously) and was eventually apprehended according to the news this morning.

Leia helped Ms. Fischer with that she needed and waved her goodbyes, telling her that she would be handing her off to the night shift's nurse. She assured her that the next would know everything and she'd be in good hands. The woman merely smiled and nodded, thanking her for taking care of her.

It made pride bloom in Leia's chest. It wasn't often that she was praised for her efforts seeing at patients were often in pain, comatose, or just not nice for whatever reason.

"Have a good evening, Ms. Fischer."

"You too, dear."

Leia chuckled as she shut the door behind her and walked toward the desk where she could see her replacement talking to Susan, most likely getting an update on the patients she would be caring for.

"Just the girl I was looking for!"

Shit.

"Dr. Carr," Leia greeted stiffly, folding her fingers in front of her as if it would create some sort of shield between her and the handsy doctor. He was attractive, yes, and close to her age, but he was an asshole who got a chuckle out of harassing the nurses.

His latest victim?

Leia herself seeing as he'd apparently heard from another nurse that she'd said he wasn't her type. He wasn't, but he'd made it his personal mission to woo her no matter how many times she brushed him off.

"How's my favorite girl?" He slung an arm over her shoulder, flashing her a too-white grin.

"Fine," she pushed his arm off her. "My shift is over so I've got to go," she made a beeline for the desk and caught Susan's eye and the elderly woman nodded, glaring at the man she knew was following her, most likely staring at her ass.

"You alright, Barnett?" Susan asked, eyeing Dr. Carr for a moment as he leaned against the nursing station.

The night nurse glanced at Dr. Carr, unimpressed. She was defiantly new, but it seemed she caught onto the situation quickly. She smiled at Leia and introduced herself as June.

"Oh, like the month?" Carr grinned over his shoulder.

"No, like the salad," June retorted, not even looking over at the Doctor.

Leia snorted and gave June her report of the patients she'd been caring for.

Eventually, Carr got bored and put his hand a little too low on Leia's back and whispered in her hear that he would see her on her next shift. Leia had to resist punching him. He was protected by someone at the top parts of the hospital. A friend of a friend apparently. Which meant any complaint to HR didn't do shit.

"What an ass," June scrunched her nose up as Carr walked toward one of the other doctors.

"Indeed," Susan grumbled, her signature red nails typing away. "Go home, Barnett."

"Yes ma'am," Leia saluted the elderly woman who rolled her eyes, but the small smile gave her away. "Nice to meet you, June."

June nodded and pat her shoulder before they went their separate ways.

❥

"I should be home in about 15 minutes, okay?"

"Okay, Mama! Did you get the cookie batter?" Callum's excited voice rang through the speaker pressed against Leia's ear.

"Of course I did, baby," Leia adjusted the heavy bag full of groceries on her shoulder as she left the small grocery store. Only one bag since she didn't get much. "Now, you stay with Ms. Houseman till I come get you okay?"

"Gotcha!" He cheered and Leia laughed, the sound filling the mostly empty streets of Gotham. She could almost imagine him holding up a thumbs up. The faint laughter of Mrs. Houseman told her she was probably right.

It took her mind off the fact she was walking home…in the dark…in Gotham…paying little attention to her surroundings.

There was shuffling behind her and she sped up, not daring to look behind her as she was suddenly hyper aware of everyone who passed her on the sidewalk. The distant sound of thunder accompanied the sound of footsteps so it was hard to tell if she was being followed.

"Alright, I'll see you soon. Be good!"

Callum's giggle made her laugh softly.

"Love you, Mama!"

"I love you too," she replied before the boy hung up and tucked she her phone away.

Despite the ache in her shoulder from the bag, Leia didn't pause to adjust it or move it, her paranoia getting the best of her. She held her keys in her free hand, gripping them tightly between her knuckles as the sound of footsteps grew nearer. When she finally made it to the door, she stupidly glanced over her shoulder to see a large figure in a dark hoodie heading straight for her. Her heart caught in her throat, and she went to push open the door, but it opened on its own and she ran into a someone — more like a wall — and stumbled back.

Leia would've fallen if it weren't for a hand grabbing her arm and steadying her. Sadly, her groceries weren't as lucky as they dropped from her shoulder and spilled out right there in the doorway.

"Crap," she cursed, bending down and gathering the fallen items before they could be stepped on.

She watched the person walk past swiftly out of the corner of her eye and she paused, trying to get a good look at their face with no luck.

"This yours?"

Leia turned, facing a man around her age, with dark hair and pretty blue-green eyes holding out some of the chocolate chip batter she'd bought at the cornerstore.

"Oh! Thank you," she smiled up at him as he silently handed her a few other things she'd dropped. "I'm so sorry for bumping into you, I thought…" she trailed off.

"No worries." He shrugged, helping her up and handing her the bag. He glanced at the bag, raising a brow as she took it from him. "That's pretty heavy."

"I'm a big girl, I can handle it," she smiled softly, and he chuckled. "I'm Leia by the way," she held out her free hand for him to shake. He hesitated for a moment before his much larger hand took her own. She was surprised at how calloused it was, but she tried not to let it show on her face.

"Jason." He nodded then his phone rang, but he silenced it immediately.

"Well, I'm sorry about that Jason and thank you of helping me pick up my mess."

He chuckled, rustling his hair which she just noticed had a bit of white in it.

Cool, she thought to herself. She'd heard of people being born with it.

"It's practically my job," he replied, before stepping aside and holding open the door wide enough for her to get through.

"Thanks," she muttered and then gave him a soft smile. "Have a good night, Jason."

He chuckled. "You too, Leia."

She nodded once before heading up the stairs, her anxiety dimming as her home came into view. She dropped her things off in her apartment before going upstairs to gather Callum.

❥

"Fucking stupid family dinner," Jason muttered under his breath as he walked down the stairs, texting Alfred that he'd be there despite already being late. He barely went, but Dick wouldn't leave him alone on patrols (on Alfred's behest) until he promised he would come. Plus, he knew if he didn't, his apartment would suddenly be missing random things for at least a month.

He opened the door to leave his apartment complex and was met with a woman bumping into him. On instinct, he reached out and grabbed her wrist catching her before she fell. Sadly, he wasn't fast enough to grab her groceries that spilled at their feet.

Jason recognized her immediately. She had moved in next door months ago with a young boy who he assumed was her son. He hadn't bothered to introduce himself seeing as his last neighbor had quite frankly been a bitch.

When she was standing straight up, he noticed her frazzled gaze flickering behind her and he followed her gaze to see a random person, face hidden under a dark hoodie pause. He glared at them and they quickly scampered off, making him scoff under his breath.

The woman's soft muttering brought him from his thoughts, and he began to help her collect her fallen items, subconsciously glancing around for anyone else who could jump at her.

"This yours?" He held out a can of cookie batter toward her and it seemed to snap her out of her thoughts.

"Oh! Thank you." She said with a bright smile that made his mouth twitch up in a small smile as he handed her a few of her things. "I'm so sorry for bumping into you, I thought…" she trailed off, glancing in the direction the creep had wandered off again.

"No worries." He shrugged and let her use his forearm to stand before picking up her overflowing grocery bag. It was much heavier than he expected and he rose a brow at the woman before she took it from him. She wasn't small, probably around 5'9" with a fair amount of muscle on her. It seemed like the bag didn't bother her much, so he guessed she was strong enough to handle herself. "That's pretty heavy."

Jason wanted to slap himself for such a stupid comment, but instead of making fun of him, she smiled. It was a pretty smile.

"I'm a big girl, I can handle it."

He chuckled, finding himself forgetting about his promise to Alfred.

"I'm Leia by the way," she said, holding out her free hand.

Jason glanced at it, hesitating. Her friendliness was odd, something he wasn't used to. In the end, he took her hand in his and he saw her face flicker for a moment before her smile widened. Her hands weren't calloused like his, but they had a few small scars here and there, but most were faded.

"Jason." He introduced himself.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, a swift reminder of his annoying older brother, but he quickly silenced it. They could wait.

"Well, I'm sorry about that Jason and thank you for helping me pick up my mess." She fidgeted with her necklace, a locket by the looks of it; a little worn, but taken care of, before tucking some hair behind her that had fallen from her braid when she'd stumbled.

Jason chuckled. "It's practically my job," he replied without really thinking about it and almost winced. To save himself, he stepped aside and opened the door for her to come inside, realizing he'd been standing in her way.

"Thanks," she said softly and gave him another pretty smile. "Have a good night, Jason."

He chuckled dryly, knowing he'd get scolded by Alfred and/or Dick when he eventually got to the manor. Not that he cared. They were lucky he was even showing. "You too, Leia."

She nodded once, that piece of hair falling from its place behind her ear. She didn't bother moving it this time as she ascended the stairs.

Jason watched her go, making sure she made it up the first set of stairs before the obnoxious ringing of his phone brought him from his trance. He blinked and shook his head, glancing at the now empty staircase. He faintly heard her continuing up the stairs but didn't bother listening anymore as he brought his phone up to his ear, scowling as he walked out and toward his bike.

"Where are you? You're late then you don't pick up your phone!" Dick's familiar scolding flooded his eardrums.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm leaving now," he rolled his eyes and hung up on his senior. He glanced back up at the complex, seeing a light flick on and through a window, he saw Leia lift up a little boy and kiss his cheek while the boy giggled.

The distant sound of thunder made him curse quietly and he started his bike, fighting the urge to glance back up at the window.

❥

When Jason finally made it back to his apartment that night, he was exhausted (as always). He rolled his shoulder, a faint pain followed by a pop made some of the tense muscles release.

Despite how tired he was after the nagging from Dick for his late arrival and following patrol, he couldn't take his mind off his too nice neighbor. Something about her was…off. He couldn't put his finger on it and that unsettled him.

He blamed it on his paranoia at first. Then again, one could never be too careful in Gotham, could they?

Jason shrugged off his persona, Red Hood and traded it for an old t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He made his way through the apartment, turning on lights as he went, grabbing an ice pack for his shoulder before walking over to his computer. Even if the Lazarus Pit allowed him to heal a little faster than your regular vigilante, he wasn't without the soreness that followed.

He could've just asked Tim to do it seeing as the guy had x10 more equipment and strings to pull, but Jason was stubborn and didn't want to bother with the strange looks he would definitely get for it.

So, he put his detective skills to the test and spent the next hour researching, deciding to skim the surface and come back to it with a fresh mind after he took a nap.

He found the basics, but not much seeing as she had a social media account, but it was barely used. The last post was from a year prior, a simple picture of her and a slightly younger version of the boy he'd seen with her.

Leia Barnett ICU nurse at Gotham General Hospital. Moved to Gotham about two months ago with her adopted son, Callum Barnett. No one else seems to be in the picture.

He scribbled the small notes on a piece of paper he had handy. As far as he could tell, she was clean. Just a normal person trying to make it in the world.

Jason heaved a sigh, running his hand down his face and turned off his computer, kicking himself for thinking anything bad about his new neighbor. Leia was a sweet woman — that much was obvious — trying to do good by her son which was enough to tug on his sheltered heart. He decided enough was enough and got up and collapsed against the couch, too tired to make it to his bed, hoping he'd wake in a few hours.

Sadly, that wasn't the case as a loud knocking startled him awake. The sun was barely peeking over the building across from them, scattered rays of light hitting the ceiling. He groaned, sitting up slowly and listening for another knock. With any hope, it was just a dream, and he could go back to sleep.

The sound of a boy's voice followed by soft muttering told him the opposite.

He stared at the door and stood, grabbing one of the many guns he had hidden around the apartment. He approached the door, listening for anything else, but there was no other noise, so he glanced out the peephole and was surprised to see a small bag of cookies with a note attached.

Jason would've left it, but he recognized the name on the note and snorted, picking up the small bag. It was decorated in red, blue, and green drawn stars. A sticky note taped to the side read: 'Sorry again for bumping into you, neighbor — Leia and Callum' with Callum's name written in wobbly letters.

He stared at the note then the cookies. He didn't know how long he stood there before he scoffed and tossed them on the counter with the note and walking off to take a shower. He didn't have time for a single mother and a little boy trying to befriend him.

Yet, even as he left his apartment later that day, glancing at them once before he closed the door, he couldn't bring himself to throw them away.

❥❥❥

three, four