#Damian fights crime with his hood up for the next few months

[batbabydamian]

Damian locks himself in his room for the rest of the day. Continuation to this!

bonus:

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

------------------------------

+ Childhood

[butwhyduh]

The Batmobile

Jason todd x reader

Warning: angst, fluff, smut, it’s fucking in the fucking batmobile 🤷🏻‍♀️😏

It was a whole year ago that you found out about Jason being Red Hood. He had left a spare helmet in the back of his closet and you had pulled it on top of you when you grabbed a hoodie. After mentally freaking out, Jason had gotten you a bag of ice for the knot on your head.

It took a whole freaking year of knowing his secret and almost 2 years of dating for you to be invited to the Wayne Manor. Okay, actually Bruce had invited you within the first 6 months of dating. Jason was the one who wanted to keep you a secret.

You spent a good 2 hours looking through your entire closet to find something to wear. What the hell do you wear to dinner at a billionaire’s house? You relaxed a little when you saw Jason wearing plain jeans and a hoodie. Okay, yeah good. Casual was better. Not to mention that you were taking a motorcycle there.

You arrived in skinny jeans and a leather jacket that felt like a protection. You could act like a punk and most people won’t touch you. Especially when Jason had the scowl he was currently wearing. You followed his eyes to see the unmistakable form of Bruce Wayne in the drive.

Did Bruce specifically find children that resembled him? Much like Jason he was tall and muscular with dark hair and as you got closer you could see he also had blue eyes. He had a few wrinkles around his eyes and grey in his hair that seemed to add to his beauty rather than take it away. You’d never met a billionaire before.

“Hello,” Bruce said.

“Hello.” You shook his hand.

“I apologize for not having you over sooner but Jason seems to have wanted to keep you a secret,” he said with a tiny smile you almost missed.

“I wonder why,” Jason whispered sarcastically. Bruce ignored it. “Hello demon spawn,” he said and you gasped at the person you hadn’t seen before standing only a few feet from you.

“Damian Wayne,” he said with his hand out to you. You shook the young man’s hand and stated your name. He was only a inch or two within your height despite his youth and heavily resembled his father except for his deep olive skin tone and green eyes.

The door opened and a voice called out, “perhaps you should bring your party inside the manor. It will be snowing soon.” The polished English accent must have been Alfred.

Bruce moved to the side and you all walked in. Alfred had walked to the dinning room. The hallway had deep polished wood walls and was dimly lit by candles on candelabras. As you walked towards the room, a warm body grabbed your hand and you shrieked.

“Sorry! Sorry!” He said releasing your hand. You flushed, embarrassed. “I thought you saw me. I’m Dick.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Jason grasped your hand and stepped towards Dick with a look of murder on his face. You put your hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. It was an accident,” you said with a little awkward laugh. Jason relaxed a little.

Alfred stood in the doorway to the dinning room with a small smile. He gently cleared his throat and you all followed him in the dinning room. It was then that you truly took in the beauty of the house. You had been too nervous about meeting his family when walking in.

The room was breathtaking. A long mahogany table was lined with emerald tuffed chaired and heavy gold curtains over the windows. The wooden floor gleamed and you noticed that your feet were the only ones making any noise as you sat down.

“Hello master Jason. It’s nice to see you here again. And you must be y/n. I’m glad he finally brought you around,” Alfred said quietly, shaking your hand. “Excuse me, I must serve dinner.”

A lovely smelling soup was placed before you all and water and wine was served. You watched as everyone ate. Bruce ate casually while Dick animatedly told a story. Another brother, Tim, shook your hand across the table before eating and typing away on his phone. Jason stared at Damian while eating and the teen glared back. You put your hand on Jason’s knee and he seemed to relax a little.

“I need to speak you, Jason, about work after dinner,” Bruce said casually. All of Jason’s tension came back.

“Not today,” he said. “We can talk later.”

“Well it’s quite important WE business,” Bruce said and everyone at the table watched the two closely.

“Is that why we came over? For you to talk business?” Jason said. He almost had a grimace on his face.

“Of course not. We wanted to meet your girlfriend,” Dick interjected. Jason ignored him.

Bruce finally spoke. “He’s right. We can talk about it later. Tell us more about yourself, y/n.”

“Oh, uh...” you said quite put on the spot. “I’m a photographer.”

“You should have brought your camera. The courtyard can be very pretty in the evening,” Bruce said. “Do you work for a newspaper?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Jason scoffed.

“I don’t. I mainly take portraits but I have been taking urban photos lately,” you said. “Like the effects of urban areas. I mean-“ you felt a loss of words to describe what you meant.

“She takes photos of the worst parts of Gotham to expose the poverty. That’s where we met. I don’t really let her go alone anymore,” he said with the smallest hint of a smile. “It’s pretty damn dangerous.”

“I’ve been fine,” you insisted and Jason thought back on the multiple shady characters he’s had to beat for you to get your shots without knowing what he was doing. “But I’m putting together a piece for South Gotham Gallery. A few more shots and it will be complete.”

“I’ve heard certain areas can be very dangerous,” Dick commented. “I would be very careful. Especially with a camera.”

“Yeah, like the East End,” Tim said.

“I grew up there,” you admitted with a laugh. “Stay away from Crime Alley and you’re probably okay. During the day.”

“It’s unwise to visit at all. Crime has risen 11 percent in the past 3 years,” Damian said. Alfred served a salad next.

“And unemployment by over 15 percent in the Bowery. That’s why I’m doing my piece. Poverty and crime is caused by wealth,” you said frankly before realizing that you just said that to a bunch of billionaires. Jason stifled a snicker.

[[MORE]]

“I suppose so,” Bruce said slowly. Jesus, you had just insulted your boyfriend’s adoptive father.

“Sorry,” you said quietly looking at your salad.

“It’s fine. It’s true,” Jason said with a shrug.

“So do you two live together,” Dick asked, changing the subject.

“You’re saying that crime is caused by wealth? Can you explain,” Damian said. Jason almost crushed the stem of his wine glass.

“I just mean, Gotham’s rich have gotten richer and the poor poorer and the ones with the money can control that,” you said delicately.

“So the rich can prevent poverty? All poverty?” Damian asked. And to the 13 year old’s credit, he just seemed to be curious. He could clearly feel the tension he was creating but didn’t actually care as he wanted answers.

“Paying people enough to live, healthcare for all, rehabilitation services that actually rehab, good education. All will help prevent crime and poverty. Many studies have shown this,” you said and you wanted to remain impartial but your voice betrayed your passion for the subject.

“We donate and run many foundations that support most of those things. Right father?” Damian asked. You sighed but kept silent. Throwing money doesn’t solve a problem.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Drop it Damian,” Tim said. He roughly stabbed at his salad.

“I just want to know how she could possibly know what the rich do if she has always been poor.”

Jason crushed the stem at this point. “Shit,” you said quickly wrapping his bleeding hand in a handkerchief from the table. He looked close to exploding.

“Don’t forget that she’s not the only poor kid at the table. I grew up on the streets and moved here. Rich people are shit,” Jason said. He started standing and Damian watched him with a glint in his eyes. He was ready to fight too.

“Sit down, Jason,” Bruce commanded. “He’s just a curious boy.”

“Not surprising. He gets it from his old man. Disregard for anyone else,” Jason all but growled. Tonight was only the tip of the iceberg. You put a hand on his forearm. The last thing you wanted was a fight.

“You’re angry,” Bruce said quietly. He swallowed harshly. “Sit down.”

“I’m a grown man,” Jason said scoffing.

“Not acting like that,” Bruce said. Jason’s hands twitched towards his gun on his hip but he resisted the urge.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. Alfred, food was great. Fuck you, Bruce,” Jason said grabbing your hand.

“Don’t leave,” Dick called as Jason pulled you down the hall. He didn’t go towards the front door but downstairs to a garage. There was probably 20 cars. Many of them were cars you had never seen in person.

“You wanna go for a drive?” He asked and you felt a thrill.

“One of these?” You asked.

“Nope,” Jason said pressing a code into a computer. A hidden garage door opened to expose a very conspicuous vehicle. The batmobile. You’d definitely never seen that car in real life.

“Seriously? Won’t he get mad?” You asked a little shocked.

“Fucking furious. We’re just going to get something to eat,” Jason said grabbing the key and unlocking it.

“Ugh... what the hell? Why not? Yeah,” you finally said. You knew the value of not missing a ride in the freaking batmobile. He grinned and opened the door for you. You climbed in and noticed a billion buttons. As Jason started the car, a string of lights pulsed on before the car showed multiple sensors. Jason pressed a few buttons before shifting the gear and driving out of the garage. The front gate automatically opened and he started putting on some speed once the car hit the road.

It felt like he was driving 50 when the speedometer was showing a cool 120. Your heart beat quickly in fear and excitement. Jason slowed down to 70 and grasped your hand. You could see tiny little cuts on his hand from the glass he crushed earlier.

“Is your hand okay?” You asked looking it over.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt at all. Let’s get some food. I know a spot. But you’ll have to wear this,” he said pulling out a small black mask to cover your eyes. He took his own. “Can’t exactly drive the batmobile and show our face.”

The spot he knew was a tiny little taco truck strung with Christmas lights and a white board advertising “elotes con chile y limon.” It was on an empty corner lot in a not so great area of Gotham. It was extremely conspicuous as the pair of you got out of the car. Most people watched but as they thought they were watching freaking Batman order tacos, they didn’t say or do anything.

“Hello,” said the truck owner nervously. “Would you like something to eat? Elotes? Carnitas?”

“Yeah, 6 carnita tacos with cilantro and lime. A Mexican coke. 2 orders of sopapillas. What do you want?”

“That’s all for you?” You laughed always amazed at the amount he could eat. It made sense with all the energy he used but still. “Same but just 2 tacos and and a coke.”

Jason wrapped an arm around you waist and swayed slightly to the Mexican music playing in the truck. People started to get used to you both being there. Maybe Batman just wanted some tacos?

After receiving a plastic take out bag with foil wrapped tacos, a sign of good tacos, you both climbed back in the car. The masks were haphazardly tossed on the dash. Jason drove you both back the way you came and you wondered if you were going back to the manor when, no he was taking you to a quiet rest stop outside the city. You ate the tacos and sopapillas on the hood of the car. You watched as Jason added way to much spicy green chile sauce to his tacos.

“Want some?”

“I choose life but thank you,” you said. You giggled as he cleared his throat and gulped down his coke. But to his credit, he ate it. Maybe he just enjoyed pain? “Now what?” You asked watching the stars. They weren’t visible in the city.

Instead of answering, Jason pulled you close. Your back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. You held his hands and looked at the little scars that littered his skin. Always fighting. Jason bent to kiss your neck.

“Wanna be really bad,” he asked with audacity that you knew meant something interesting. You leaned into him more.

“What do you mean?” You purred. Dating a guy like Jason Todd, you weren’t exactly new to taking some risks.

“Let’s fuck. Right. Here,” he said and with every word he slowly spoke in a husky voice, he pushed his hips against you and you knew exactly what he wanted. You went to turn in his arms but he moved quicker and you were quickly bent over the car with a gasp. He pulled off his jacket and threw it on the hood. Little did you know but he was covering the camera.

Jason’s hand ran along your back and you shivered as your skin pressed against the hard metal. He kissed the back of your neck and kneaded the flesh on your hips and he ground his hard on against you. “Fuck you’re pretty. And letting fucking Bruce know what you think of the rich. That was hot as shit. I’ve been wanting to do this for months.”

“This was on your bucket list,” you asked grinding your hips back against him. “To bend me over the batmobile and fuck me?”

“Jesus,” he said before pulling down your jeans and panties in one push. You shivered at the cold air touched your ass. “Your fucking mouth, Princess. I love it.”

You weren’t cold for very long because after a few seconds of rustling with a belt and zipper, you felt Jason press against your ass. He rubbed his cock through your folds a few times before pulling away. You turned to whine only to see him rolling on a condom. He sunk into you without ceremony. His fingers roughly held your hips as he thrust into you.

You moaned and the echo reminded you that you were outside. Anyone could come up on the pair of you fucking on the goddamn Batmobile. It made you moan even louder. He rubbed his hand up and down your spine before sliding down to the front of your body to rub your clit. It didn’t take long for you to grip him tighter.

“Fuck, Princess, are you close?” He moaned in your ear. His thrusts were rough and deep and his fingers moved quickly over your clit.

“Yeah, oh shit, yeah,” you moaned. “Jay,” you whined when he readjusted his hand.

“I got you. Let go, Princess,” he purred in your ear. You reached a hand up and grabbed his hair. You pulled him close and moaned his name on repeat as you came. He grunted and a few more thrusts found his release. Jason pulled out and pulled up your pants with a pat on your ass and took care of his condom.

“We probably need to get the car back before Bruce come looking for it,” he said grabbing his jacket. Jason gave you a long sweet kiss before getting back in the car.

“Does he have a tracking device in it,” you asked with sudden realization.

“Yeah but all we did was get some tacos and stopped to eat them,” Jason said with a wink. “He won’t care too much. Plus he’ll only be mad at me anyways. Don’t worry about it, Princess.”

You held his hand all the way back to the front drive of Wayne Manor. As soon as you were in his car, his phone lit up and before he put it away, it was a message from Tim. “Clean it before you bring it back. I don’t even want to know what happened and Bruce is ofc mad.😩”

You laughed a little and Jason went from grinning to laughing out loud. “At least we didn’t fuck in the car,” you said. He laughed some more.

“Maybe next time, baby,” he said with a wink before speeding out of the drive.

“Oh god. I wouldn’t do Alfred like that.”

“I knew I liked you for some reason. Let’s get home. It’s cold as balls out here and I’d like to spend some time with my hot as shit girlfriend before the other shoe drops,” Jason said taking your hand again.

“That’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea.”

[wordsfromthesol]

Avengers or Justice League (2/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol​ Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @malfoys-demigod  @pricetagofficial @anousiemay​ Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 1.2k

Part One

You woke up several hours later, still in the passenger seat. It had definitely been longer than 2 hours. How were you not in New York yet…Before you could ask, Jason spoke up.

"So…welcome back. It's been a while. A lot has changed."

"I can see that. What happened?"

"Well I met the spider thing. Very helpful, definitely a child. But he said Bats was about 3 hours north of here. In a small town called Croatoa."

"Seriously?"

"I couldn't believe it either. Couldn't even find it on a map…but the kid gave me directions. Should be there in…now." Jason commented as he turned onto a dirt road. You had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

**

You had been in this weird town for a few hours. All you had done was sit on the roof of the hotel and listen. The conversations…something was just off. You couldn't put your finger on exactly what. You were so zoned out that you didn't even hear Jason come up behind you.

"Something is off here. Right?" His voice broke your trance.

"Definitely." You nodded, reassuring him that he wasn't crazy.

"There's no crime here. At all. In the last 10 years. Not even a speeding ticket."

"Well the town is all dirt roads…" The comment was meant to put your minds at rest. It didn't. "Should we even be staying here? Crime does tend to follow us." Jason's bellowing laugh cut through the tension.

"I've already got us another room. About an hour away. It was the closest town to here." You moved to get up but stopped when you noticed Jason wasn't following you.

"Is there something else?" A look of concern graced your features.

"Why am I here? Good ole Bruce doesn't need me. Never has. I don't fit into the mold of his superhero gang. I shouldn't even be alive. Who thought I was worth saving?" It was as if someone dosed him with a truth serum. All the insecurities he felt began to pour out.

"Honestly…I have no idea why you were saved. Then again, why was I? Why didn’t that blast kill me? Why did Tony create something to save me? And why did Bruce teach me how to control the catastrophic energy inside of me?" Now you couldn't stop. There was something about this place. "We need to leave." You were barely able to muster up the words.

**

You still weren't sure how the two of you made it out of town, but as soon as you did it was like a switch flipped.

"By the way, Bruce's way of doing things…it's not always right. You don't need to fit into his mold." Even though the effects wore off, you still remembered everything Jason had said. Everything you had said. Those fears and uncertainties, you don't think you'd ever actually said them aloud. You could tell Jason hadn't either.

"Do you think he's there?"

"It's a pretty small town, I would've heard him…unless there was some underground bunker…" You turned towards Jason, realizing that that was an actual possibility. The rest of the drive was ridden in silence. Neither of you wanted to talk about the things that were said.

You had no idea where Jason went, but it had been hours. The two of you had to come up with a plan. It didn't take long for you to find him in an alleyway wailing on some drug dealer.

"Hey, Hood." You casually walked up next to him, leaning against the adjacent brick wall. He sent one final punch towards the dealer before turning towards you. "Don't you think we have more important matters?" Jason just stared at you, confused. You scoffed and starting walking back to the hotel, as you reached the end of the alley you called out, "If you want a lecture we'll have to find your dear ole dad."

You weren't surprised to hear Jason's footsteps quickly behind you. "Well do you know where to begin?"

"Kinda…I was thinking. And the power to affect people's minds like that has to be constantly going. Especially since it affected us."

"Yeah but that could be anything. A sound, emitting something into the air, even widescale mind control." You let out a defeated sigh as Jason continued. "I can call Miss Martian. If it's the latter."

"Alright, get her on standby. I'm going to call Tony. Maybe he has something we could use if it's a sound or air thing." You stopped dead in your tracks and turned towards Jason. "I just don't get why they would have Bruce. I get that he is inherently violent…but he still helps people. And they wouldn't need him if there was no crime…"

"I…" Jason started walking again, not wanting to think about the answer. "I'll get Tim on it. Just don't go back there until we know more."

Your eyes widened, "Yeah no, of course not."

**

Once you were sure Jason was asleep, you flew just outside the town limits and began circling the town. There had to be something you missed. It took almost 30 minutes for you to notice the sound. You stopped, hovering about 30 feet in the air, as you focused in on the noise. The next thing you knew you were plummeting to the ground, yet you couldn't stop yourself. It seemed as if Jason was at your side as soon as you hit the ground.

"Y/N! Are you kidding me?!"

Your eyes fluttered open to examine the damage around you. "I thought you were asleep."

"And I called bullshit the moment you said you wouldn't come back here." You didn't protest as he scooped you up and gently placed you in the car.

"It's sound." You mumbled as you fought off the headache.

"Guess I'll have to talk to the tin can again." He rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he watched your face contort in pain. "You okay?"

"Just karma for not listening to the all mighty Jason Todd."

**

A week had passed and it seemed the mission grew stagnant. Tony had developed a device that blocked the sound, which you had already tested, but there were still too many unknowns. Every meeting consisted of hypothesizing different situations and possibilities that could be encountered once everyone was inside.

"Enough already!" You shouted at the arguing heroes. "We could do this for months. It's pointless. We need to go now. Batman may not even be there anymore."

"Oh, uh…he is." Spiderman chimed in.

You furrowed your brow, "How do you know that?"

"I put a tracker on him. It's still there…" As the whole room burst out in laughter, Spiderman just looked around, confused. "What?!" His voice broke through.

"Oh…sweetheart." You began as you regained your composure. "There are three reasons that tracker works. One, he was brainwashed and actually didn't know it was there. Two, he put the tracker on something useless to send you on a wild goose chase. And three, he put the tracker somewhere he wanted you to go."

"Considering the creepy town, I'd rule out the second one." Dick chimed in.

"So do we just split up and find the entrance to the tunnels?" You could tell that Tim was ready to get this mission over, so you started doling out responsibilities.

"Tony starts at the north end, Nightwing and Robin at the east, Red Robin and Spiderman, the west. Red Hood and I will start at the south. We can't go in costume though. It will be too obvious."

"So we must reveal our identities to these inane people?" Damian was not happy with the situation, especially having to work with members of the Avengers.

"Just don’t say your name? We're trying to find Batman, this is more important than your secret identity."

**

You prayed that the sonic dampeners Tony developed would hold for the duration of the mission. You had no idea how long this would take. This situation seemed much more involved than some low level, one-off criminal. It was a demonstration, a practice round.

The town was small enough, so one of the groups had to stumble upon this entrance. The only tricky part was not drawing attention to yourselves. Seven strangers come to town at once…you were hoping whatever brainwashing protocol overlooked this fact. And you were right. No one gave you and Jason a second glance as the two of you strolled down the street. It had been almost an hour before you stumbled upon a potential entrance. As discreetly as possible, you opened the hatch and lowered yourself through the hole.

"So which way do we go?" Jason commented as he followed in suit.

"Left?" You figured you had a 50/50 shot, so you went with your gut. After all, if you went right, you wouldn't be in town for too much longer. "You should probably call the others. Have them rendezvous here, in case we run into trouble."

"Trouble from who? The townies?" You shrugged off his condescending tone. The two of you had been walking for a few minutes when you started to hear footsteps. People were running towards you.

"Uh, Jason…we need to move." Jason didn't bother to argue, as the urgency was pasted over your face. The two of you raced down the corridor until you saw something. "STOP! There's a room. There." You pointed towards the concrete block to your right.

"And does this room have a door?" You could tell by his tone, Jason wasn't afraid to make one. Your eyes scanned around the area until you found it. Not bothering to answer his question, you rushed towards the opening.

"And it's locked."

"Not for long," Jason smirked as knelt down to work on the lock. It was opened in seconds. Your eyes searched around the room in awe. There was video and audio of the entire city. Even inside people's homes.

"How do we --" Your question was interrupted by a loud banging against the door. "Just subdue, don't maim or murder." The comment was a reminder to both yourself and Jason. These were innocent unsuspecting townspeople, not criminals.

"Didn't need to be said!" You shoot a glare his way, to which he responds with a shrug of the shoulders. Just as the two of you braced for a fight, the banging stopped. Seconds later, Tim swung open the door.

"In a bit of a bind?"

"Does it look like we know how to operate this?" You pointed towards the various machines behind you. Tim nodded and got to work.

**

"So, no evil mastermind or Batman." You had convinced Jason to come back to the hotel with you and let the rest of them deal with the groggy and confused townspeople.

"Guess not."

"There's probably going to be more towns like this. You'll have to keep an eye out…"

"Oh. So you're leaving Earth then?" Jason's chest sank at the thought.

"Is there a reason I should stay?" You knew the answer, but you wanted him to say it. You wanted to make sure you weren't imagining everything.

"I can probably think of a few…"

[octalove]

II: Blood and Ghosts

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader tries getting a clue. part one

“Typically, they steer clear of the Village, but that doesn’t appear to be the case as of recent. Oracle found out about an operation out of a Hadley’s Deli there- standard money laundering, but it also could’ve been linked to the shipment of cocaine that we found at the Yacht Basin.”

“Right. So what changed?”

“A better question would be what didn’t?”

A beat. The contrasting silence that followed jarred me from my thoughts as I glanced over and realized that Bruce was prompting me for an answer. Tim looked expectant and inquisitive, but that was sort of his default expression.

“Oh. Sorry. What?” I said apologetically.

“Maroni.” He said simply. Nothing came to mind. He didn’t express verbal disappointment as he turned back to Tim, but I knew it was there.

“Red Hood has been operating out of The Bowery. Maroni and Falcone are stubborn, but they’re losing. He’s pushing them north.”

“So moving to the Village isn’t expansion. It’s desperation.” Tim muttered thoughtfully.

“I believe so.”

“May I be excused?” I asked. Bruce glanced back to me, studying a moment. Scrutinizing every detail; not deciding whether or not to let me leave- rather, deciding why I wanted to. Then, he nodded. Seems he wasn’t in the mood to ask.

I swept up my laptop and phone, and ascended the stairs from the cave to the manor quickly, trying to escape the eyes boring into my back. Only when the cool, lemon-scented air of the manor filled my lungs did I breathe a sigh of relief. Alone. All I needed was few minutes alone. I scaled the marble steps to my room and shut the door.

I hadn’t told anyone that I saw him three nights ago. That I watched him murder a man in retribution for me. My alter ego, anyway. I don’t know why. Maybe because it would mean having to tell them I snuck away. Having to walk through every detail again; sights, sounds, smells. What Red Hood was wearing and what he sounded like, what gun he was holding and how he held it, what prompted him to fire, how many shots and how he acted when he did.

But if ever there was a time to be high-strung and anxious, it was when you were keeping secrets from Batman. And Oracle. And Nightwing. And Red Robin. And Robin. Damian in particular could smell a lie like blood in the water, and he wasn’t too polite to hold your gaze until he was certain you weren’t hiding anything. That, and the art of solidarity was still foreign to him- even if I did tell him in confidence, he would take it right to Bruce. Possibly the police. Maybe a news outlet or two just because it soothed his vindictive nature. I’d been avoiding him.

Evening bled into night, and I was barred from masked business on school nights, so I couldn’t even patrol to ease the anxious energy. Still, that meant less opportunity for Bruce to analyze my musculoskeletal ticks or whatever the hell he did to tell when I was nervous, so I decided it was a worthy trade-off and resigned myself to independent research.

Who the hell was Red Hood, anyway? Half of Gotham was looking for him, the other half was running from him. I opened my laptop.

His debut was The Viper House, a strip club in Little Italy that also functioned as a human trafficking hub when the owner, Renaldo, needed to buy his wife (or handful of mistresses) a new Blue Nile diamond. By the end, the building had to be gutted. There’s only so much crime scene clean-up can do with carpet.

Next came the kingpins. Blowing open a trafficking operation had a short grace period if you didn’t cut out the source. Italian mobsters, the Romani families, the crews that had built empires on drug and sex trade dropped like flies until they found that their numbers dwindled for the first time since Joker finally bit it. The dozens of loyal men on their payroll decided that empty pockets were better than a full grave, and when it came to the business of death, Red Hood was very persuasive. It went on like that for six months; he amassed men, power, weapons, and tech. Most importantly, a potent reputation. This was due in no small part to his creative footwork; he liked to send messages. One file covered an incident where Alphonso Kuznetsov decided to write Gotham’s new player an open letter in the evening column suggesting that if he decided to bring his business to Port Adams, he might find himself in a ‘watery grave’. Kuznetsov was found a week later when a fishing vessel drug an entire coffin from the bottom of the harbor, padlocked and full of water. He was bound, drowned, and gagged with a copy of the very paper that featured his message. Red Hood must have been in touch with his artistic sensibilities; it was all very Shakespearean.

Of course, these were all just words. Rumors and hearsay. All I knew of the Red Hood from my intimate encounter was that he had a quick hand, an incendiary temper, and he didn’t fucking like creeps. All the makings of vigilante, if you chose to see it like that.

I sighed. Two hours and none of my research gave me any indication of why me. Why the hell should Red 57-kill-count Hood care if some goon told me he like the way I looked in my suit? I may has well have been the veiled threats of Kuznetsov’s evening column for all my inconsequence to him.

But it all kept running through my mind. Backwards and forwards. The vitriol in his voice preluding the barbarity of his reprimand. The way he said little Batgirl, like the crime was that I’d been engaged at all. More than the memory, something was telling me to keep digging. Something dragging me back to Crime Alley with the current of the running blood through Little Italy’s gutters.

I had to do something. And if that something wasn’t going to Bruce, then school tomorrow would have to wait.

The morning went along as per usual. I woke up at six, dawned my Gotham Academy uniform, grabbed a muffin and coffee, completed a complicated and well-practiced secret handshake with Tim (that Dick was secretly jealous of), and was out the door at 6:30, keys jingling in Alfred’s hand.

He dropped me off outside the ornate gothic academy, and I waved goodbye as I skipped backward along the cobblestone walkway. Once his black Mercedes was a pinpoint on the horizon, I promptly turned heel from the front doors, heading East toward the Narrows. Catching the subway there would take me as far as the Knight’s Stadium, and from there it was a short distance to the Alley. I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous in my academy uniform- anyone who gave a shit could pretty confidently deduce that school was in session at 8am on a Tuesday, and no student native to the Alley could afford a private education, so I was bound to draw eyes. I hadn’t packed an extra outfit incase Tim or Alfred got suspicious- that was paranoia puppeteering. I wasn’t used to skipping school. I’d have to make due.

Crime Alley in broad daylight was a brand new experience. At night, at least the smoke unfurling from the sewer grates hit the flickering streetlights and offered an unconventional charm. During the day, it was like shedding light on a foul sin. I was starkly out of place, and even the lapdog-sized rats seemed to know it, scurrying back across gritty concrete when I passed by. I looked for familiar things I’d seen the other night- a run-down apartment complex, a gated liquor shop, a meager but menacing corner-store, busy with glaring laymen reluctantly dragging out their wallets for a pack of cigarettes. I caught the eye of a woman sitting on the curb with a paper-bag bottle for company, and she scowled.

Spurned by the rats, and now by the people, I was running out of options. Sticking close to the buildings that perimetered the square, I moved in tandem with the motion of the locals, so as not to draw any eyes by looking lost. It was an unnerving scape; too quiet for my liking, but just empty enough to feel safely underseen. I made my way past familiar landmarks until I finally stood before the warehouse where I’d been.

I listened; no sound from inside. Even henchmen have day jobs. Jimmying the rusty padlock was just a matter of brandishing a bobby-pin from my hair, and the heavy metal door swung open without much resistance. I cautiously picked my way around crates and boxes, unsure of what I was looking for. Clues, maybe. Proof that he was here and dropped a body in my name, amen.

There was a dark, daunting stain on the floor where Hoffman’s body was. A phantom gunshot echoed in my ears, along with a nauseating sound of flat-back weight slapping concrete.

“Ain’t school in session?” I spun on my heel, meeting the red helm of a towering man draped in leather and armor. My mouth went dry. My right foot slipped back into a fighting stance before I remembered I was in cashmere and plaid, not kevlar. Not that I even stood a chance either way; but at least he seemed to harbor good will toward Batgirl. Wordlessly, I took a few steps back until I was standing over the blood and ghosts of Hoffman’s demise.

“P-please. Don’t- don’t hurt me.” I rasped.

I could play the rebellious, morose teenager and come up with something like it was a dare, or I could offer no explanation and simply cry.

Red Hood’s head tipped one way. His hands were empty- for now. Two heavy-looking glocks hung on his waist. I didn’t want to die on top of Hoffman’s blood stain. There was a level of symbolism there I was deeply unprepared to spend my final moments analyzing.

“Lookin’ for something, darlin’?” I swallowed- unable to say you.

“Wh-What do you want?” I asked.

He laughed, but it was humorless. Lacking whatever key component made laughs so appealing. As though the sound rung off the gravestones of uncanny valley before reaching my ears. “I think we’re both asking stupid questions.” He said. I was fucked. He outweighed me by a hundred pounds, and could out-draw me even if I had a weapon. I had no explanation for my being here that suited a civilian, and my phone was in my bag, meaning help was a world away.

But just as soon as he advanced a few paces, he stopped, and gestured to the crimson beneath my feet.

“Enjoy the show the other night?” He asked, before pulling something out of his jacket pocket and twirling it between his fingers with practiced ease. A batarang.

“You forgot somethin’.”

Cold, knife-like fear erupted in my spine, driven to the hilt. He knew. How did he know? What the hell was I supposed to do? My terror must have shown on my face, because he stopped fidgeting.

“It’s okay, babydoll. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“H-how-“

He moved again, slow, lazy strides until he was no more than an inch from me.

“Who are you?” I asked, figuring if I was gonna die, I should at least know that much.

His hands grabbed mine. The leather of his gloves was cool on my skin, but it barely registered for the closeness of him. I stared at the red bat symbol on his chest, jagged and angry looking. I blinked and looked down slowly as he closed my fingers around the cold metal of the batarang.

“Go home, little bird.” It was a cold, seething demand, his voice snagging on the scrambler to make it sound like a low growl.

“Tell Batman when he’s ready to stop sending his toy soldiers,” His hand went under my chin, tilting my head upward. My breath shook as I drew it, hitching, even though the man before me was faceless. Clean, red monochrome, glinting in the light.

“I’m getting impatient.” *

I walked through the manor door in a daze, the cold steel batarang searing my palm.

Bruce and Damian were in the living room, each invested in their own reading material. The grandfather clock ticked his steady tempo, and I inconspicuously adjusted the bag on my shoulder. Bruce had a steaming cup of coffee on the glass side table beside his leather chair.

“How was school?” He asked, not looking up. My paranoia convinced me it sounded rhetorical, but I shrugged anyway.

“Same old.” A glance, to see if my lie had landed.

Damian was the spitting image of his father. He, along with Tim, operated in the wake of being an only child, so he never did care about how I did in school, or much of anything else in my orbit. If at any point he did, he never thought to ask. Father and son looked like a matching set of dolls sitting there, cross-legged, with dark hair and gaunt eyes, both leanly muscular, and habitually poised; a consequence of being from the upper echelon of each of their respective backgrounds.

“Hey, um, are you going out tonight?” I asked.

“I am.”

“Can I come?”

“Are you certain you want to?” He still didn’t look up.

I blinked. “Um… yeah. Why?”

“You’ve been distracted since the last outing.”

Damian visibly tuned in.

“Oh. Sorry. I had a big paper I was worried about for school, but I turned it in today, so I’m good to go.” I threw him a thumbs up, even though he wasn’t looking.

A beat.

“Very well, then. Nine o’clock.”

I nodded, and headed toward the stairs.

“Y/N,” I stopped, and turned around. He was looking at me now, eyes blue and steady.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you did well?”

“…”

“On the paper.”

I threw him a smile. “The best.”

[batfam-rewrites]

Batfam During Quarantine: Avatar

Dick: Okay, lets try to keep the craziness to a minimum. Harper and Cullen are quarantining for two weeks so lets not do anything to make them jealous.

Duke: *Duke and Tim walk into the room* Omg, We just finished watching Avatar The Last Airbender for like the fifth time right now! I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH!!! WHY DID THEY EVER TAKE IT OFF OF NETFLIX!!!

Dick: Guys, come on. I literally just said to keep the craziness to a minimum.

Tim: They have Netflix set up on their tv. They should be fine.

Damian: What is Avatar The Last Airbender

Everyone: *gasp*

Selina: Some....

Jason: Sh ta ta ta ta. *presses his finger to Selina’s lips* Don’t speak, I know just what you’re sayin’, so please stop explainin’.

Selina: Really Jason? How long have you been waiting to use that one?

Jason: *breaks into a dance* All night long, all night.

Stephanie: What is going on with you Jason? 

Tim: I know right? You don’t ever listen to Lionel Richie, let alone pop music.

Jason: It’s his fault! *points at Dick* Him and his stupid playlist!

Dick: “Don’t Speak” isn’t on my playlist though.

Jason: I ummmm...... radio.

Dick: *gasp* You listen to No Doubt!

Jason: No! Maybe!

Dick: O-M-G!

Jason: They’re a guilty pleasure! Now don’t mention it again.

Cassandra: Guys!!! What is The Last Airbender?

Duke: *starts to explain but Dick holds him back*

Jason: *to Damian and Cassandra* You poor depraved children.

Damian: I’m not a child.

Jason: Hahaha, your cute. Avatar The Last Airbender is the beautiful brain child of Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. It is a fantastic series that can not be summarized by anyone or even a movie. Anyone who tries instantly robs the person of the magic of the original series and ruins the exper.....

Damian: You know what, screw it. This isn’t worth it.

Dick: NOOOO! Come on Dami, we can watch it all together, just the nine of us.

Duke: Yeah, come on Damian.

Stephanie: It’s a really great series Dami.

Cassandra: I mean I’m interested.

Tim: *turns his head towards Cassandra* We already knew you were on board. *turns his head back to Damian*

Damian: Fine, I’ll give your stupid show a chance.

Everyone: Yaaayyyyy!!!! *they all start to head down stairs when Dick gets an alert on his phone*

Dick: Actually, this is going to need to wait. Cass and Tim, come with me. I’ll alert Babs and Kate.

Jason: Why, what’s up?

Dick: There’s been a murder at Blackgate.

Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Red Robin, Orphan, and Commissioner Gordon

Jim: Batman and, wow there are a lot of you!

Batman: We want to try and get this over with as soon as possible.  

Jim: Very well. Victim is Julian Gregory Day, better known as Calendar Man. The body was found at 10:15. He left his cell at 10 to meet with the D.A. to talk about getting a reduced sentence. Both of the prison guards who were escorting Julian Day were knocked out during the attack. All of the camera’s were out, too.

Batwoman: The marks on his neck suggest that he was strangled and can’t quite tell but there’s something under his fingernails. He couldn’t have saw this coming but he definitely tried to put up a fight.

Batman: Okay, Batgirl and Orphan, lets have you head to the morgue with the diener and see if they could find out what’s under his finger nails. Batwoman, question Hugo Strange. Go through the audio files and see what you can find. Red Robin, you and I will see what any of the inmates in the cell block know. Jim, order your men to check the other camera monitors for anything suspicious.

Jim: I’m not one of your......

Batman: *glares at Jim Gordon*

Jim: I could figure out your identity any time I want. 

Batman: *smirks* Is that a promise?

Jim: It’s a door I’m willing to keep closed unless you cross the line.

Batwoman

Something she didn’t mention at the crime scene was that there was traces of reddish brown hair, so that points fingers at James Gordon Jr, Clock King, Edward Nigma, and Roxanne Sutton. Kate has her suspicions, but as of right now everyone is a suspect.

Hugo Strange: Hello Batwoman. How may I assist you?

Batwoman: I need to know about a few of your patients.

Hugo Strange: You know I can not tell you much I am.....

Batwoman: I am familiar with the confidentiality agreement. I need to know about Julian Day.

Hugo Strange: Poor guy. It’s a shame what happened to him. His most recent audio files are all yours. You’ll find the information you need in there.

Batwoman walked out of the room and began listening to the files in the secret Batcave in Blackgate.

Batgirl and Orphan

Batgirl: *walks into the door* Ugh, what is that smell?

Orphan: Rotting goat sex.

Batgirl: *burst out laughing* What?

Orphan: Rotting goat sex. 

Batgirl: What made you say that?

Orphan: Red Hood told me that’s the name of the yellow squares you put on sandwiches. The ones that go bad over time and smell like this room.

Batgirl: Okay, don’t listen to Red Hood anymore. It’s called cheese Orphan.

Orphan: Cheese. Okay. Got it.

Batgirl: So, how are you enjoying quarantine in the mansion.

Orphan: It’s not bad. Been sparring a lot. 

Batgirl: Who exactly? You’re not hurting my boyfriend right?

Orphan: Nope, but I kicked Helena’s butt a few times.

Batgirl: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY!!!

Coroner: *walks out* Hey, so the.... Sorry, am I interrupting something.

Batgirl: No. Tell us about the body.

Coroner: Okay so prior to his death it seems the victim was drugged with a depressant. Obviously slowing his reactions. Underneath his fingernails are threads from the string that was used strangle him and some dead skin cells.

Batgirl: There’s not a lot of options for strings except for shoelaces, and unless someone has a very old shoelace, that means the string had to have come from outside the prison.

Coroner: Correct, the threads are definitely not made from the same material as the shoelaces.

Orphan: Anything else.

Coroner: Yes, there was some short white hairs found on his body which is odd, but probably from facial hair or eyebrows.

Batgirl: Thanks! Let us know when you have an idea who those skin cells belong to. *both Barbara and Cassandra start walking away* Tell Red Robin what we found out.

Orphan: But we’re supposed to report to Batman.

Batgirl: Fuck Batman.

Selina, Bruce, Lucius, and Alfred

At Wayne Tower

Bruce: *starring at his computer screen* If I buy this company, then I can buy a donut, and the cosmic donut will make me live forever, plus more profits, because three coffees plus one donut equals one Tim. *Lucius Fox knocks on the door* Do you want to build a snowman?!

Lucius: Mister Wayne, we need to talk.

Bruce: What is it Lucius?

Alfred: You’re overworking yourself.

Bruce: *looks up from his computer* Dad, I mean Alfred, Selina, what are you doing here?

Selina: No simple way to say it but this is an intervention.

Bruce: I don’t need an intervention.

Selina: Bruce, it’s been a bit over two months since quarantine began. You’re company is doing just fine. Don’t you think you deserve a break?

Bruce: With a little less help from Red Tim, I need to work as much as possible to get the cosmic coffee back on track. The hacker a few weeks back did a bit of damage.

Alfred: Master Bruce, even the Batman needs a break from time to time. Isn’t that the real reason you have Master Dick running around in the Batsuit instead of you?

Bruce: No! *Bruce takes a moment to think it all over* Partially.

Lucius: You are putting to much pressure on yourself. You keep on talking nonsense and are obviously sleep deprived.

Bruce: No! I’ve haven’t put enough pressure on myself since I became Batman. Once Batman came into the picture I didn’t focus on the company any longer. And I’m not sleep deprived, I’ve slept 4 hours last night! I’m getting more than enough sleep.

Lucius: You had more of an impact on the company then you think. If it weren’t for you acting as a real CEO, we wouldn’t be doing a going green initiative, there wouldn’t be a yearly fund going out to local orphanages, you created a functioning way for employees to work from home while increasing productivity. I can go on for hours about the positive things you have done as Bruce Wayne.

Selina: You have done so much. Come home, sleep. Enjoy time with you’re family.

Bruce: I can’t do that, I can do more. I can help other companies, too.

Alfred: I remember one time, it was when you turned 5, your father was supposed to be at the hospital. However, the day before he had worked all day to make his patients feel better, so he could spend the next day with you. He wouldn’t have missed your birthday even if it would cause the end of the world. Master Thomas knew the importance of taking time off to spend time with his family. It is time that you do the same.

Bruce begins to tear up. He reflects on how often his father worked day and night, but regardless how often he worked, he always had time for him and his mother. He knew his father loved him with all his heart. Then he thought of Alfred. He wasn’t really his father but Bruce always saw him as one after his parents died. Alfred loves him as much as he loves his own family. 

Bruce: *rolls his chair back and walks over to hug Alfred* Thank you Alfred.

Alfred: Anytime sir.

Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Red Robin, and Orphan

*In the Blackgate Batcave*

Batman: What did we find?

Orphan: The threads under Julian’s finger nails came from a string outside of the prison meaning that it could be one of the employees who’ve killed him. Skin cells under his nails are being scanned now, and white hairs were found on his body. Also cheese is not called goat sex.

Red Robin: WHAT! *Dick and Tim start laughing hysterically* 

Batman: Why would you think that!

Batgirl: Jason told her. That’s beside the point though.

Red Robin: *whispers to Dick* What did you do?

Batman: *whispers to Tim* I don’t know.

Batgirl: Stop whispering, we can all see you!

Batman: Got it. Kate what did you find?

Batwoman: Day was in an extreme state of paranoia before he died. Talks about how he was going to tell the D.A. about corruption in Blackgate.

Batman: Interesting, did he say anyone’s name?

Batwoman: It’s not clear, but I would assume so.

Batman: That makes sense. When Red Robin and I interviewed his cellmate, Drury Walker, he said he was starting to suspect something was going to happen. He had suspicions that James Jr. was going to kill him.

Batwoman: If I had to assume, I would say the same. I noticed a large sum of reddish brown hair at the scene where the body was found.

Batgirl: There was white hair found on the body though. With Day being strangled the killer would be close enough to possibly have a few hairs fall onto his body.

Batman: Do you have a sample?

Batgirl: Obviously.

Batman: Okay, I’ll program the computer to scan it. I know it’s not ideal but we’ll find out in twelve hours. Tim, Cass, and Kate, go update Commissioner Gordon. Babs, do you mind if we talk for a moment.

Batgirl: Sure, if you feel like doing so now.

Batman: *takes off the cowl and mask* What’s wrong? 

Batgirl: How could you not tell me Helena was staying at the mansion!

Batman: I didn’t want you to overreact.

Batgirl: How could I not! One of your ex girlfriends is sleeping under the same roof you are!

Batman: Look, this conversation is a bit more complicated than I anticipated so we’ll talk more about it later.

Batgirl: You know what, do yourself one better and just don’t talk to me at all. *Barbara places her mask back on as she storms out*

Red Robin: *sneaks out from behind a door* I swear I totally wasn’t eavesdropping, but that sounded like it could have gone better.

Batman: Yeah, it could have. *Dick than walks out pulling the cowl over his head and placing his mask back on*

Batman and Batwoman

Batman: *knocks on the door*

Hugo Strange: Hello Batman, Batwoman! How may I assist you?

Batman: We have some more questions to ask you.

Hugo Strange: Please, come inside!

Batman: How has James Jr. been doing in his sessions?

Hugo Strange: He has been doing very well! Obviously he had to spend a small period in solitary for killing his cellmates but he is getting better. If he is a prime suspect you may look into his files.

Batwoman: When did you two last meet?

Hugo Strange: Yesterday.

Batman: When did you two conspire the death of Julian Day?

Hugo Strange: I’m sorry, what are you talking about?

Batwoman: *grabs Hugo Strange by the shirt and lifts him* DON’T PLAY GAMES WITH US STRANGE! ANSWER THE QUESTION!

Hugo Strange: I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about!

Batman: We saw that you transferred Day to Gordon’s cell! He has killed every cellmate he’s had! You were sentencing him to death!

Batwoman starts to shake Hugo Strange violently until a gun shot is heard from across the room. 

Batgirl, Red Robin, and Orphan

James Jr.: Hey Batgirl! I see you’re walking again, isn’t that such a neat surprise.

Red Robin: Shut up, James!

Batgirl: James, we want to know what happened?

James Jr.: ..........

Batgirl: Answer my question asshat!

James Jr.: Whoa little sis... I want to stay I was told to shut up!

Batgirl: Do you realize what’s happening?

James Jr.: I’m being interrogated.

Batgirl: You’re going to be transferred to Arkham. If you confess your time there could be reduced! 

James Jr.: Fine... I confess...... I cut open your teddy bear and filled it with razor blades when we were kids.

Batgirl flips the table and pins James to the wall, punching him in the head multiple times. Orphan then runs in, trying to help Red Robin to get Batgirl to stop punching James Jr.

Batgirl: Rot in fucking Arkham for all I care! You should have been sent there to begin with!

Batgirl, Red Robin, and Orphan begin to walk out the door before James Jr. lying on the floor yells.

James Jr.: WAIT! It wasn’t me, I promise!

Batgirl: Doubtful.

James Jr.: Red Robin, come on. I know you’re going to give me a chance. Hear me out.

Red Robin: Batgirl, let’s give him.....

Batgirl: NO! HE HAD HIS CHANCE! HE DECIDED TO WASTE IT!

Orphan: Batgirl. Please.

Batgirl: *stops in the hallway* Fine.

A few minutes later Red Robin is in the interrogation room with James Jr. with Orphan.

Red Robin: James Jr. Did you kill Julian Day?

James Jr.: No.

Off in the distance they all hear the gunshot from Hugo Strange’s office.

James Jr.: And there’s my proof.

Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Red Robin, and Orphan

Red lines flow down Hugo Strange’s face as blood pours from the hole in his forehead. Batman and Batwoman turn around to see who fired the shot, and are shocked to see Eduardo Flamingo. Batwoman drops the dead body of Hugo Strange as Flamingo fires three shots at both Batman and Batwoman. Both are unfazed by this and punch him in the face, causing him to fall back on the floor.

Batman: *picks up Flamingo* Who hired you?

Eduardo Flamingo: *cough* You just watched him die.

The GCPD arrives to the room and arrest Flamingo.

Commissioner Gordon: Freeze! You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.

He had confessed to everything. The murders, the contract Hugo Strange offered him to kill Day. No details was left out. By the time they all left the prison it was 12:30 in the morning.

Batman: Batgirl, let’s talk. 

Batgirl: I don’t want to talk.

Batman: Babs, if you won’t talk, then listen, please? *tears start to fill his eyes and make their way down his mask*

Batgirl: If anything, you listen to me *tears streak down her mask as well* I don’t know where I stand in this situation, and right now I really don’t care! For the time being don’t talk to me. *she takes out her grappling hook and leaves the four other members just standing there*

Batwoman: I’m not going to get too involved in this, but you know if you need to talk Dick, let me know.

Batman: Thank you.

The two hug and then go their separate ways.

Dick and Barbara

When they got home, Dick reached for his phone and started to text Barbara. He tried to explain how he never knew Helena was going to show up. How she showed up out of nowhere. How she is his everything, his world, and he doesn’t blame her for being skeptical but he still loves her. 

Barbara doesn’t want to read a word of Dick’s excuses. This has happened before when Dick was dating Koriand’r and Zatanna. Even before they were in a relationship, she knew he at one point was seeing multiple girls at a time. She doesn’t know if he is really sleeping with Helena behind her back, but she knows that she can’t trust Dick for the time being.

After his shower he walked to his room where he saw Helena laying on his bed in her costume. She then tosses his Nightwing costume at him.

Helena: Hey Dick, how about you throw that on and we do a bit of role play.

Dick: Cool, I’m into that. I’ll be Nightwing, the guy who loves Batgirl so much, and you’ll be Huntress, who sleeps on the first floor. You’re going to leave my room and I’ll lock my door for the rest of the night.

Helena: Rough night, lover?

Dick: I told you to stop calling me that.

Helena: I know, but I love it.

Dick: Helena, please just leave.

Dick just lied on his bed staring at his phone, wishing that Barbara would text him back. Fifteen minutes later he hears a knock at his door.

Bruce: Hey Dick! Are you okay?

Dick: What is this? Am I dreaming?

Bruce: No. I heard what happened. Just know if you ever want to talk about it, you can come to me. 

Dick: Thanks Bruce!

Bruce: Want to watch Avatar as a family? Damian told me how you talked him into watching it. I think it’s a fun idea!

Dick: *smirks* Sure!

They both walk downstairs to the media room as they see everyone down there already. He noticed Helena was sitting at the far end of the room so Dick considered sitting by Tim and Stephanie who seemed to have been chatting it up, but decided against it and sat near Damian. 

Dick: *leans over towards Damian*

Damian: Don’t you even think about it Grayson!

Dick: *wraps his arms around Damian* Come on, you know you love my hugs!

Damian: I will cut off your arms in your sleep,

Dick: You’re so adorable when you think you’re threatening.

The episode begins to play and everyone fell silent. As the second one ended everyone looked at Cassandra and Damian to get their reaction.

Cassandra: That was awesome!!! Let’s watch one more!

Damian: It is surprisingly entertaining. A little silly but intriguing.

Jason: WE KNEW YOU WOULD LIKE IT SUCKER!

Tim: One of the greatest shows ever!

[vln-vibes]

Unwanted, Unreliable, Unstoppable

Yeah so this thing is crazy long so I’m dividing it into three parts. Anyways this is very self indulgent but I hope you like the content.

Summary: They were tired, they were so so tired. This fight has been going on long enough, this war was getting harder and harder to fight as the years went on but no one ever helped; Not the citizens of Paris, not the French government and certainly not the Justice League. But what is they received help from a man that was practically a myth himself; the Batman.  Is this exactly what the Miraculous Team needs or will this lead to their falling from grace?

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“I’m so tired of this!” Ladybug scratched at her head feverishly. Currently she was standing at the second most top of the Eiffel Tower with her team: Chat Noir, Ryuuko and Viperion.

“I know m’lady” Chat sighed, letting his cheerful mask take a break as he stood next to her, leaning into the railings.

“Those— Those assholes that call themselves the Justice League just keep ignoring us; it's like they just don’t give a shit about us” Viperion rolled his eyes. They had tried, time and time again, to get help from older, more experienced heroes with their situation in Paris; they were fucking teenagers thrust into an adult’s war. One they didn’t even care for anymore.

“They don’t care for Paris… Why should we?” Ryuuko spoke up, cold fury clear in her eyes. “If they cannot find the need to handle the Paris situation themselves then why must we be the ones to? No one even appreciates out efforts, its like they just want us to have everything handled”

It was true.

At first the Parisians praised the Dynamic Duo, Ladybug and Chat Noir, for stepping up and saving the city from the terrifying Akumas they had no way of handling. They even got the heroes to help out with things not in their jurisdiction; suddenly any crime, as minor or major as it could get, required their attention, any fire could not be handled by the fire department alone, schools needed the heroes to make guest appearances, they were wanted in television interviews, everyone needed to know everything about them. It was fine, for a while, they didn’t mind helping out.

Then Heroes’ Day happened.

Suddenly they were pathetic.

If they were supposed to be so strong then how come other heroes had to come to help? It had never occurred to them that they were chosen by Ladybug and Chat Noir, all they knew was that the duo was not as strong as they once believed.

After all it was just one criminal,

How hard could it be?

Sometimes, Ladybug wishes, she had just let Alya keep the stupid earrings. She was sure the girl would have taken them immediately at the time but, given her brashness and temperamental nature, she would have already lost to Hawkmoth.

Plus she didn’t blame the small kwami or even Master Fu all that much: She resented the man but still respected him very much and knew he went through the same thing as she did at an even younger age with absolutely no way out. She was aware that if she truly wanted to all she could do was just give the earrings to someone else or even hand them over. But Ladybug was stubborn and the earrings were her’s now, just like the ring was Chat’s, the choker was Ryuuko’s and the bangle was Viperion’s.

That didn’t mean this battle was theirs to fight.

“... Why don’t we leave?” Viperion asked, disturbing their silence. The trio looked at him curiously, as though he broke an unspoken rule.

“Why would we?” Ladybug responded, knowing fully well that Viperion didn’t tend to speak up unless he was certain of his words.

“Because they’re running us dry, this city is killing us” Viperion raised his voice, aware that they could already, “Adrien and Kagami are living shitty home lives with abusive assholes that want to call themselves parents. Mari, you’re being burdened with too much responsibility by that bitch Bustier and that class full of sheep! I hate seeing you all kill yourselves for people that will never appreciate it because they think they’re above it!”

At the end of his rant Viperion’s eyes were nearly glowing, his breathing a bit more rough than normal, looking away from his teammates knowing he stepped too far. “Sorry, but I don’t want my friends to die on me when I can do something to stop it”

Ryuuko, Chat Noir and Ladybug understood where he was coming from but it was like a slap on the face, a reminder of what civilian life was like for them. Ryuuko could feel the sting coming from her leg, where mother had hit with her shinai after failing to be in proper form. Chat Noir still felt the ache of having to do photoshoots all day and then staying up at night to have to do his make-up work; not that his father cared with his disregard of child labor laws. Ladybug still had some redness from bruises Alya had caused by tripping her on her way to class.

“... Okay so these are the sad gang hours” the group turned back seeing Roter Fochs land, Roi Singe and Pegasus landing behind them. The Parisians were really only aware of ‘The Core Four’ as they’d rather have some aces up their sleeves; not that the three were ready to confront the Parisian backlash just yet. They didn’t want to deal with anymore bullshit than they had to in their civilian lives.

“Is everything alright? Or is it just Life™?” Roi Singe asked, leaning onto his bo-staff next to Viperion.

“It takes 60 euroes to go to therapy but no money to say it just be like that sometimes” Roter Fochs shrugged, much to the dismay of Viperion, Roi Singe and Pegasus.

“Can you please stop joking about your mental health” Pegasus found himself groaning. A small hovering screen appeared next to him, a cowboy hat firmly attached to the top with an antenna sticking out.

“Yes studies show that LGBT youth have a higher percentage to suffer from depression, some even to the point that they𑁋”

“Thanks for the concern CowBot but, really, I’m fine; let me have my fun” Roter softly tapped the little robot. It was nice having people, well sentient beings, still concerned with his well being.

Suddenly the group tensed, their artificial ears and enhanced senses picking up a light clink, the sound of something quickly winding up followed. Two male figures landed in front of them, quickly surrounded by the Parisians. The taller one of the two quipped:

“Well aren’t you a merry bunch”

“Who are you and why are you here?” Chat Noir kept an icy cold edge to his voice, emulating how his father would talk to employees that weren’t Natalie.

“They’re not Akumas, no magic radiating off of them” Ladybug analyzed, looking closely at the duo but she couldn’t recognize them at all. The male that had spoken had a lean and relatively tall body, he couldn’t be more than four years older than her team, so around his late teens early twenties. He had long raven hair, his bangs framing his face perfectly, even in the moonlight she could tell he had a pale complexion though the black domino mask he sported helped hide most of it and his eyes. His uniform wasn’t one she recognized from any superhero from the League; black kevlar, if she had to guess, made up nearly the entirety of his suit, from his boots, pants and even gauntlets, heck she wouldn’t be surprised if his cape was bulletproof. One of the only things to bring color was his crimson chest piece, with two belts across it holding up a golden bird symbol, the same one on his canary utility belt.

“Tt, we just came here to talk” the smaller male scoffed, his posture not looking any more tense or relaxed, just attentive. His build was also lean like his taller partner though she could tell his body would be able to build more muscles with his broader shoulders. She assumed they were around the same age, his jawline defined but not to the same extent an adult’s would be. His hair seemed almost darker than that of his partner’s and was slicked back though maintaining most of its volume, a naturally tan skin was found beneath a green domino mask, much like his companion’s. His uniform was definitely more colorful, almost as if he was meant to garner attention(and boy wasn’t that concerning); black seemed to be the main color in his suit with the outer cape, pants and sleeves being that color, ruby red tunic that went beyond his belt with dandelion accents on its edges and a golden R over his heart, pine boots and gauntlets matching the shade of his mask with dandelion yellow covering the inside of his cape and hood as well as his own utility belt.

She had no clue who they were.

“And why should we trust you?”

“Because we don’t like the Justice League any more than you do”

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One Week Ago

“Hey B, we found something interesting while reading the League’s data” Barbara Gordon’s voice echoed in the BatCave. Currently she and Tim were doing the weekly check-in on the League, something those heroes never seemed to notice. Not that they were surprised.

“What did you find?” Bruce asked, telling Duke and Damian to take a break from combat training while he did.

“There’s an alarming amount of distress calls from France, specifically Paris, that the League has been either ignoring or not receiving” Tim showed him the graph of all the history, going back at least three years closer. It was small at first, once every two months at the beginning, once a month when the second year began, every two weeks bordering on weekly near the end of it, by the start of the third it was daily until some time three months ago they just stopped.

Well wasn’t that cause for concern?

“Can we get any audio of the calls?” Bruce’s detective side coming up as Barbara was able to bring up a few that hadn’t been automatically deleted by the Justice League’s system. The first one was the very first from three years ago, a video call.

“Uh hello!” the girl on the video said awkwardly, clearly nervous but determined to get her message out, “My name is Ladybug”

Her costume looked like it was simply made by spandex, a rather plain design of red with black spots around, a domino mask with open lenses was the only thing really concealing her identity.

“Paris has a supervillain, his name is Hawkmoth and he feeds off of negative emotions. His power can turn anyone into his enslaved champion and we- my partner and I are the only ones really fighting this. I- I know you’re all really busy saving the world and all that but- but we’re just kids! We have no experience and well, we were hoping you can send someone to help? We’ve only confronted him three times now but well, we were just pushed into this”

Bruce could feel his blood growing cold, she couldn’t have been older than thirteen when this was recorded. He knew no Leaguers went on missions to Paris for the past five years… He told them to play the next video, from two years ago.

“Hello Justice League” Ladybug still wore her simple spandex though now standing tall next to a boy with a black cat leather outfit. Behind them was a girl with a bee themed outfit, a girl with a fox themed outfit and a boy with a turtle theme.

“We just came out of this Heroes Day disaster”

“No thanks to their help” the bee girl snapped before looking away.

“Look, Hawkmoth is getting more and more dangerous. He was able to transform half of Paris into his minions, they took over Paris and nearly won”

“What is it going to take you for you guys to finally help?” the cat boy growled much to the surprise of the others.

“Chat Noir!”

“Oh please we can totally handle Hawkmoth without them; you two should be enough already. With us three helping you, defeating him should be easy, power of teamwork and all that” the fox girl waved off, much to the surprise of the turtle.

“Rena did you seriously not remember what just happened. We were compromised, we nearly let Paris fall. We’re not trained for this, not even LB and Chat, and they’ve been doing this for the past year”

“Whatever”

“What was the last transmission?” Bruce found himself asking as the cave suddenly grew silent, all eyes on the monitor as their last transmission played.

“Why are we even bothering with this?” a new male voice asked, the video was shaky before finally pointing at the Parisian streets. If you could even call what was essentially a river of water, reaching to the top of most rooftops streets anymore. Items were floating about, bodies littered around them.

“They’ll never listen, they never did” another female voice agreed, they assumed it was the girl at the corner of the screen, looking down on the streets in what could be described as pity.

“I know” Ladybug’s voice sighed from behind the camera. “But they should at least see the consequences of their actions”

“If they even bother watching these, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just delete these as soon as we send them” Chat Noir entered the screen, eyes cold and calculating.

“Paris should be thankful that Lucky Charm is able to bring them back” the male with the snake themed outfit shook his head. “This is probably the 1,000 time most of Paris died with an akuma, second with Syren”

“Super lucky” the dragon female rolled her eyes “It’s not even worth trying to save citizens since all they do is cretique us”

“And the officers; Apparently we should be able to deal with city-destroying being and protect the people at the same time while officers just stand behind the lines waiting for us to do both” Chat Noir hissed

“What's done is done. This will be our last call for the Justice League; I hope you’re all happy, knowing that you’ve forced children to grow up and fight in a man’s war. Bug Out”

“There are no records of these videos even being played, or even of these events happening as far as Parisian government records say. But there’s clearly a lot of cover up going on, most of Paris’ emergency broadcasting doesn’t make it out of its borders, heavy encouragement of tourism even though there have been complaints by the people about… akumas?” Tim reported as soon as the video finished playing.

“There’s even records of a city-funded statue being made for Ladybug and Chat Noir yet no indication of where it is or what its for” Barbara continued “This blog keeps coming up, it used to be called the Ladyblog before it switched to Fox Tea. Look at these videos”

The screens were suddenly filled with shots of these Akuma; one that froze the city over, one who controlled the weather, one who began dropping adults from the sky, Syren, Heroes’ Day… All of them had to be handled by scared children. 

“These look too real to be edited” Duke said in awe. He was very aware of his children all surrounding the screens, looking at the countless destruction of one of the major cities in the world.

And none of them had ever heard of them or these children who were forced to deal with it.

Ones who seeked out help and were never given the time of day.

“Red Robin, Robin” his two sons standing in attention “I want you to investigate the matter and offer our help; convince them that we’re on their side on not aligned with the League”

“We’re on it, Batman”

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“So you just want us to believe you found out about us and suddenly want to help?” Roter Fochs looked at the duo skeptically. 

“We wish to assist you with this whole… situation. No one has heard of Akumas or of Parisian heroes before, we concluded that it may be the government attempting to keep tourism up” the shorter male, Robin, they later learned, spoke up while keeping his hands in the air.

“Though that doesn’t excuse the League, who we know you personally sent distress messages” Red Robin echoed the message “We understand the incompetence of the League better than anyone else. Did you know they never bothered to even open most of those messages?”

Red Robin was surprised by the sudden animalistic growling coming from the group, some of their eyes glowing while others looked disappointed.

Ladybug looked hurt.

“Who do you work for?” Ryuuko  asked, curious but not letting her sword lower from its position.

“We’re Robin and Red Robin”

“Like the food chain?”

“.... Yes. Anyway we’re vigilantes sanctioned in Gotham, New Jersey in the United States; we’re both proteges of the Batman” Red Robin held back the need to roll his eyes at the monkey boy’s statement.

“Never heard of him” the French heroes turned to each other, trying to see if the name rang any bells.

“According to the internet the Batman is almost a folklore for Gotham; people claim to see him and his array of birds and bats but none could ever get clear photos” CowBot replied after a quick search.

“If the League never saw our messages then how do you know about them?” Chat Noir stared right at them, as though he’d know they were lying, which he couldn’t but Roter Fochs could and would.

“Because we’re better than the League” Robin said with the same certainty one would say the grass was green.

“Why should we believe you?” Ladybug asked skeptically, if they were so good then why didn’t they handle what the League wouldn’t? Why didn’t they just try to take over the Hawkmoth situation without their input? Why didn’t they just take down the League by themselves?

“You shouldn’t, “ Robin shrugged once more “But we’ll actually help where the League wouldn’t”

Ladybug stole a look from Chat Noir, both turning to Roter Fochs, who shook his head softly indicating the duo wasn’t lying.

“If you really want us to talk then give us the coordinates to meet with the Batman” Ladybug demanded, Robin looked outraged at the implication while Red Robin nodded.

“Alright, but how will you know if we’re lying to you?” he asked curiously, typing something in his communicator, the center of his utility belt, before handing it over to her.

“Trust me, we know when you’re lying plus we’d know when we get there” Viperion smirked, “Also you can stand down now Bunnix, MultiMouse”

The duo were not surprised to see two figures standing behind them, one male with a mouse theme and rope wrapped around his hands, and a petite girl with a bunny theme and a sharp looking umbrella pointing straight at their backs. They were just surprised that they hadn't sensed them before.

“Did you get those coordinates, Pegasus?” 

“Yes Ladybug, waiting for your signal”

“Well then birdies, we better hope you weren’t lying or you’ll find Hawkmoth won’t be your biggest problem”

“Voyage!”

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“Why don’t you guys like the League?” 

The meeting between the Bats and Team Miraculous had gone much better than any of them had expected; it had certainly helped when they found out one of their own, Agent A as they called him, was once a wielder.

They had both been surprised by the amount of members each team had: The Bats had expected Ladybug, Chat Noir, Ryuuko and Viperion; Roter Fochs, Pegasus, Roi Singe, Bunnix and MultiMouse had been a surprise.

Meanwhile Team Miraculous had only heard of whispers of Batman and many Robins, even a theory on a bat girl of sorts from their brief research; having Batman, Robin (V), Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Signal, Batgirl, Batwoman, and Black Bat not to mention Oracle and Agent A; they had almost thought it was an ambush.

They supposed they each knew how to keep certain secrets tight.

“The Justice League, though still consisting of some of the most powerful people in this Earth, are too high and mighty; none of them really consider the consequences of their actions and are too reliant on their powers to be able to resolve all their problems. None of them have any contingency plans if their enemies find out their weaknesses and exploit them. Not a single member is a ‘normal human’”

He pulled up a hologram in the middle of the meeting table, every person who's worked with  Justice League showing up, each showing their array of powers and abilities before showing their membership status.

Batman, Green Arrow, Speedy, Robin, Artemis; Non-Members

Two Green Lanterns, Captain Marvel, Black Canary, Bumblebee, Rocket, the Atom, Blue Beetle (II), Superboy; Reserve members with clearance.

“That does seem pretty discriminatory” Viperion hummed as he thought of the people on the list, those on the Non-member list had no power or enhancement at all while those on the reserve, with the exception of Captain Marvel and Superboy, had powers or suits but the vulnerability of humans.

They weren’t considered strong enough, or maybe even reliable enough.

“We’d probably be considered in the same capacity as a Green Lantern” Pegasus concluded “Take away their ring and their powers go away”

“Which brings us to the next question” Batgirl chimed cheerfully “What is it exactly that you’re facing off against?”

“The Miraculous are ancient artifacts that lend you the powers of certain godlings named Kwami. Kwamis are the essence of concepts and ideas: The Ladybug who represents Luck and Creation, the Black Cat who represents Misfortune and Destruction and Horse who represents Transportation and Innovation are just some examples” Ryuuko explained for them

“Hawkmoth is in possession of the Butterfly Miraculous of Metamorphosis and Desire along with the Peacock of Emotion and Will” Ladybug paused briefly as she saw the look of surprise on Agent A’s face, wondering if she’d feel that way if she found out Tikki was being used for evil in the future. “Both were thought to be missing, possibly destroyed, when the last Master of the Order was able to salvage them from the attack to the Temple of Miracles. He was only a child when the Temple was attacked, thus he was able to escape without being detected by the enemy”

“If I remember correctly,” Chat Noir interrupted “I believe Master Fu said their name was “The Shadows” or I think he said they now go by𑁋”

“The League of Shadows” Nightwing softly added, the air tensing immediately.

“You know of them?” MultiMouse was weary considering the Shadows were very keen on keeping to, well, shadows. That had to mean that the Bats had confronted them.

“Intimately so” Batman growled out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bunnix’s brows furrowed underneath her mask, feeling as though they wouldn’t like the answer.

“The Shadows have been a pain in Gotham’s ass in the past” Batgirl explained before turning to Batman “Especially since the Demon’s Head was interested in having Batman as a Son-in Law, though his daughter is sometimes an ally”

“Batgirl!” Red Robin admonished

“Don’t forget the little demon over here” Red Hood joked, missing the look of shock in the Parisian heroes.

“Or the fact that it sometimes seems like he wants to get on Red Robin’s dick and have his babies”

“Batgirl, Red Hood that’s enough” Batwoman sternly looked at the duo.

“You’re saying Robin is related to the Shadows” the Parisian heroes in the Reserve Team looked at them suspiciously while the Core Four just patiently waited to see what the Bats would say.

“That’s in the past” Nightwing steely stated “He was born into that lifestyle, but his mother let him chose to leave and live a different life”

“We had no choice of who our parents were” Black Bat reinforced, the team taking a mental note that she was once a shadow as well.

“Noted” Chat Noir said cooly “Though you must understand our reluctance when hearing the Shadows; like we said the Shadows destroyed the temple that was meant to safeguard the Miraculous and killed off every Guardian in the process”

“It would be foolish of us to not be on guard when hearing of them being so close to us again” Ryuuko explained “Though we will give the benefit of the doubt”

And so was the beginning of their partnership.

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“You’re all skilled fighters for not having any proper training” Oracle commended, looking at the statistics of the spars they all had, by far the Core Four had the strongest stats but it wasn’t because of the others’ lack of skill.

“Thank you, Oracle” Ryuuko bowed after finishing her match with Robin, an intense sword fight having just finished. If she had truly wanted to she could have ended it by cutting Robin’s katana but she found it both dishonorable and the easy way out considering they were testing skill sets. On the other side of the room was Red Robin and Roi Singe’s fight, bo-staff against bo-staff, being monitored by Black Bat.

“Oh kwami” Ladybug whispered as she and Chat Noir were called for the next match… against Batman and Batwoman.

“This is where we die Noir”

“It’s been an honor m’lady”

The fight had been entertaining, each side coming in with an array of attacks. At first the Bats had played offensive with the Miraculous duo playing defensive, dodging Batarangs and all their little gadgets. The Bats hadn’t expected just how durable the simple looking yo-yo and staff would be or any of its features.

At some point there had been a flash bomb, Chat Noir blocking it from Ladybug and getting temporarily blinded, Batwoman had planned on attacking while he was disoriented however the attack amplified his enhanced hearing, extending his staff and tripping her in the process.

In the end the Bats had won but it had been a close victory considering the Miraculous Team had not bothered to use their special abilities during any of the fights.

As they were taking a breather, resting and getting drinks, Robin spoke up.

“How are you allowing your city to step all over you?” Team Miraculous looked at him briskly before Red Hood, of all people, continued for him.

“We’ve seen the reports and the Parisian news, they’re relying on your team of four, considering they aren’t aware of the others, to be there to solve all their problems”

“It’s okay for your people to put so much trust in you but it's gotten to the point where they expect it of you” Robin concluded.

“I’ve tried telling them” Viperion sighed, facing his group “We really should be leaving Paris to handle their own problems, we’re busy enough in civilian life and akuma fights as it is”

“How do you suppose we do that when we already face scrutiny for not dealing with Akumas fast enough?” Chat Noir asked, his tail flickering behind him.

“You could always stop patrolling in broad daylight if you don’t want to leave the city altogether” Red Robin suggested, “Hiding in the night is easier to avoid any authority or anyone trying to get interviews. Plus this way it's less predictable where you’ll be certain hours of the day”

“He does make a good point” Ladybug said, mostly to herself, before nodding “I think it's a good idea”

“You heard her team,” Chat Noir turned to face the others “All for stopping daylight patrol?”

All of them nodded in agreement, the beginning of a long list of necessary changes in their lives.

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“My father is planning a press conference to talk about his ‘concerns’ with the lack of your appearances” Chloe rolled her eyes. A year ago, after the Heroes’ Day Disaster, she and Carapace had chosen to stand down while Rena was ultimately retired. She’d found out about Adrien when she went for a visit only for him to jump in through the window.

It was awkward between the two of them before they called for Ladybug.

She gave her neutral face of disappointment first before making a plan.

They were all aware that Lila must have been the one to start the disaster, being Volpina was the only explanation, as Ladybug confessed that Lila had a vendetta against her. Chloe also figured she must have been lying, something she had already suspected before, about being in another country considering Hawkmoth’s attacks only stayed in Paris.

Due to Chloe’s secret identity being out in the open they realized Hawkmoth wouldn’t be above targeting her family again. Thus Chloe became Ladybug’s spy.

Meanwhile in civilian life Nino was getting tired of Alya and Lila’s antics, especially the ones against his bros Adrien and Marinette. Well more against Marinette and more sexual harassment/getting together with Adrien. That’s not even touching on their newest content on the blog which was just criticizing the Miraculous Team for all their weaknesses and shortcomings, in the guise of offering “suggestions” on how to get better. 

They thought it’d be good to have an inside man, someone who could warn them of anything Lila and Alya might come up to.

They were both the secret members of Team Miraculous.

“Holy shit are you serious?” Nino exclaimed in Chloe’s room. They’d all come in secretly and by different entries to meet up in case certain nosy classmates had spotted them.

“Yep, I may or may not have threatened my father with a lawsuit against his violation of child labor laws and me not receiving my paychecks” Adrien said excitedly.

Chat Noir had made an off-hand comment on how his father had tired him out with a packed work schedule. This resulted in prodding from the mother hen known as Nightwing asking for details which ended in Chat Noir confessing that he works for his father’s company, had been homeschooled most of his life and often had a packed schedule full of extracurriculars, including up to around 12-hour work days sometimes. Turns out with that brief information Oracle informed them that his father was violating child labor laws due to the fact that he had worked more than thirty five hours a week since he was fourteen.

“Holy shit” he’d say in awe at the moment “My father is rich though… who knows if this would even go through with his influence”

“No man is truly above the law” Nightwing had given him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “But… is everything alright in your home life?”

“I- I shouldn’t say anything that reveals my identity… '' the usually chaotic boy said solemnly, his cat ears downcast.

“Chat Noir,” the group turned to Ladybug, the one who’d help introduce her team to the life of masks and magic “Your own safety is much more important than keeping your identity safe. We both know the kind of person your father is… I’d rather you have the best options possible to face this”

“How come you’re so fast to trust us?” Robin asked, surprised but keeping a stern face.

“You do realize that she has the coordinates to this place, right?” Viperion smirked “She’s known who you are for a while and never mentioned anything. We just expect you to return the courtesy”

“That seems about right” Red Robin sighed before taking off his mask, the others of the Bat Clan following suit. Team Miraculous gave Ladybug one last look before dropping their own transformations, some of them looking familiar to the Gothamites.

“Marcus is that you my boy?” Agent A, otherwise known as the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth made his way to MultiMouse who nodded shyly. 

“I actually go by Marc now great-uncle Alfred”

“Wait what, Al has siblings?” Stephanie exclaimed, Jason was whispering for Tim to write it down in The Book.

“Yes, an older half-sister” he said with an impeccable raised brow “I would have never thought you’d follow after my footsteps Marc”

“I guess it does run in the family”

“Adrien Agreste! Like son of the fashion mongul Gabriel and late actress Emellie Grande de Venily?!” Stephanie exclaimed as soon as she focused on the blonde teen.

“Yep” was all he could find himself saying, taking comfort in Marinette’s presence next to him.

“Don’t worry Adrien,” the boy looked up to the slightly intimidating looming figure of Bruce Wayne “We’ll help you deal with your father”

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“Boys” Bruce had said as soon as he entered the living room, where the group had devolved into a video game competition. “Remember tomorrow is your monthly therapy session”

“Already?” Damian groaned, his brothers, with the exception of Dick, looking like they would rather not go.

“Timmy isn’t prepared to face his inner demons” 

“And it seems Timmy hasn’t slept in some time again, hasn’t he?” Luka teased, continuing to run his hand through Tim’s hair, the boy practically purring in response.

“You have a therapist?” Marinette asked Bruce skeptically.

“We’ve all… gone through things growing up. Alfred made me realize that we were all in need of some help”

“And do you umm… talk about your nightly activities?”

“They’re trustworthy and confidential, yes”

“Do you think you could give me their information?”

That’s how Team Miraculous found themselves on the day after another akuma attack, in a private room within Wayne Tower, each waiting their turn to see the doctor.

“You’ve been through alot Luka” the teen was lying on his back, facing the ceiling as the psychologist who worked with Bruce talked. “Losing what you’ve come to accept as your family, watching your friends die, even though you knew you could change the outcome. Doing it over and over again in order to save the city… It's not something anyone could be expected to handle, let alone a child your age”

“I… I know Dr.Quinzel. But I can’t allow myself to feel guilty over everything or even get overly emotional. If Hawkmoth found out it’d be a disaster, especially because Marinette trusted me with the miraculous… the first for her to assign full time as the Guardian…. I can’t let her down” Luka gave her a lost look, one rarely seen on the charming boy before.

“Keeping all of that inside… It could fester up and explode if you’re not careful Luka”

“So you’re telling me that you are perfectly fine with how your life at home is going, Nathaniel? Even after everything we’ve discussed”

“Look I’ve tried telling my parents they were wrong but they just keep saying I’m confused, not to mention think my art is a joke… and maybe they’re right”

“Those are important parts to who you are. Saying that would be like considering yourself a mistake… Do you feel that way Nathaniel?”

“I…”

“I think I have pretty bad taste in girls, though my friends usually call me a himbo for not really thinking things through. Maybe I should think before acting more?”

“I’ve known I was going to become Bunnix ever since I was fourteen, it was always just a matter of when. So when I was finally called to action I was so excited but… I can’t help but wonder if I’m cut out for this”

“My mother has groomed and taught me to be perfect at all I do. It was something ingrained to me since I was a child; It wasn’t until recently that I learned that is impossible to achieve. Why was mother so pertained to me being it?”

“I know I’m the smart guy but I shouldn’t be expected to have all the answers, especially for my classmates who refuse to look at evidence as it is. Seriously, if I had known they would have taken my comment about how dangerous a napkin can be as pure fact then I would have not said anything that day”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough for my grandmother. She’s getting older, she’s starting to forget a lot. I help by telling her things like stories but I’m not sure how long that will last… She’s the only family I have left in Paris, I don’t want to leave my friends or boyfriend behind”

“My father has always been a distant man but ever since my mother… I’m not sure if he even sees me as his son at this point. There are some days I’m treated as nothing more than a trophy boy or a regular employee. I wonder if this would have happened regardless of my mother’s passing”

“I am Ladybug, I am also the last Guardian. But I’m just a teenager! I have a life I want to live outside of Paris… I want to be a designer, start my own brand, find love and have my own family… But Hawkmoth is in the way of all that”

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“Are you sure about this LB?” Nino asked from the terrace of Chloe’s penthouse. They’d been talking strategy when an Akuma attacked, given the chaos displayed by the news via LadyBugOut livestream, they could only assume it was another Volpina attack.

Unfortunately Volpina had a Sentimonster to help, Reality Check. A glorified 3D printer who could temporarily make Volpina’s illusions tangible and real.

It had proven to be a difficult battle, especially since Luka and Adrien had been caught up as civilians and couldn’t help Ryuuko and Ladybug. The others still had to wait for Ladybug to give the signal before they’d consider going out to help in broad daylight lest their hidden cards be revealed too soon.

In the middle of the fight the two heroines had made a strategic retreat, one the Fox Tea blogger did not hesitate to call the coward’s way out. Suddenly the two appeared at Chloe’s along with Roter Fochs. The scarlet hero had taken out two familiar boxes with extremely familiar jewelry inside. 

“I’m certain of it” she said with a determined smile, “Besides this could finally get Hawkmoth and maybe even Alya off your backs if I introduce new heroes; Of course your costumes will have to be different, as will your codenames, but I trust that you’ll know what to do”

“Hello my queen!”

“What’s up dude”

Paris was in uproar when they heard of the new heroes; Abeille and Anselm.

Abeille’s costume was much more armored than that of Queen Bee’s; the whole suit had a honey yellow bodysuit with black armor pieces, her chest piece in the shape of a bee’s face, black elbow length gloves with some honey stripes, thigh high black boots with honey kneepads. Her own mask was different from her former as it changed her eyes to royal blue like Pollen’s while being honey colored with black v shaped lines. The golden gauntlets on top of her gloves would be able to send out small shocks, capable of stunning enemies for small intervals at the time, nowhere near as potent as Venom.

Anselm’s own attire was not so different from Carapace; Anselm still kept the hoodie his predecessor did though beneath it is where the differences began. Anselm wore a pine green helmet, yellow tinted goggles on top of his red eyes, with pale thin daffodile lines going from the top to the bottom of his hood. The hoodie and his undersuit was sacramento green, bordering on black, though the majority of the suit was also armored with pine pieces like the hexagonal chest piece, shoulder, thigh, shin, knee and elbow pads. He also had much thicker gauntlets than Abeille’s along with armored gloves and reinforced sneakers.

Of course, Chloe Bourgeois and Nino Lahiffe were quickly off of the suspect list when the two were spotted separately looking for shelter amongst the Akuma attack during Fox Tea’s livestream.

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“So you’re part of the OG Team huh?” Stephanie asked as she gave a once over to the two newcomers.

“Deep undercover missions, you know how they go” Abeille scoffed, her honey blonde hair swaying along with her five black streaks around it.

“What she said. We couldn’t help as Queen Bee and Carapace anymore, compromised identities, so we helped as civilians before covering our tracks and coming back” Anselm tried to keep back Chloe’s prickly personality.

“Like what?” Cass’ appearance startled the two, though both looked like they were about to draw out their weapons.

“Well I get them intel from what’s happening in the mayor’s office that Max and Markov can’t get out from the computers, daddy is a bit of a pushover and squeals pretty easily”

“While I get intel from Fox Tea’s disastrous dude duo. I’m usually among the first to find out about anything their plotting… though I’ve had to drop that. It was getting too much for me to continue being with Alya so we broke up”

“So you kept dating Cesaire just to gather intel? Doesn’t that seem manipulative?” Duke asked from his seat on the monitor, the two Parisians looked at one another before beginning to laugh.

“Not compared to what those two are capable of”

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“Are you sure about this?”

Currently Viperion, Ladybug and Bunnix were on the Gotham rooftops, shadowing the Bats for the night. The three were honored to be trusted with the responsibility but still felt foreign in the much darker environment, literally and metaphorically.

“It’ll be a good experience” Oracle said in their ears, their comms being synced to those of the Bats “And you won’t be alone, I’ll be here and so will your partners”

Right on cue Robin, Red Robin and Black Bat landed on the same rooftop. The plan was for the six to cover the patrol for the night, the others would be getting rest or doing specialty training with their abilities. It was a surprise for the Miraculous gang when it was revealed that Signal and Red Hood would be joining them as fellow trainees. Alfred and Black Canary, a metahuman who often worked together with Green Arrow in Central City, would be in charge of the training while Bruce also oversaw their progress.

Honestly they hadn’t known what surprised them more: the fact that Batman had metas on his team or that he trusted other heroes with the training of his children.

“It should be a regular night; standard mugging, gang fights and possible robberies should be all that happen tonight”

Of course that was not what happened.

As it turned out Riddler had escaped Arkham, no surprise, and had gone too long without his medication. Edward Nygma was usually a pretty tame man, if a little eccentric with his love of riddles and his brilliant mind.

He decided to hold Gotham Grand Terminal hostage.

Ladybug was decidedly trying not to panic as she saw the very obvious bombs spread across different sections of the terminal. There were too many for them to deactivate in less than three minutes and there were probably more hidden around.

“Riddle me this; What is Joan of Arc made of ?” Ladybug and Robin were the first to arrive at the scene, Viperion and Red Robin being the closest to coming as back up. Robin seemed as confused as she felt but decided to really think about it…

This was so stupid.

“Maid of Orleans” the look Robin gave her, like she just made the most foolish decision of her life, was seen spread across the faces of hostages before Riddler began to laugh.

“Why you are correct, little red” he wiped a tear from his eye “Bats would never think of something so punny like that!”

“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of experience with annoying puns”

“What’s colorful, loud and is a mess to clean up?” Ladybug’s eyes widened as he pressed the big red button on the remote control, Robin bringing Ladybug down and shielding her as the hostages began to scream.

BOOM!

“...Confetti cannons” Ladybug muttered, her whole body covered in the colorful paper pieces with glitter in the mix.

That son of a bitch!

It was April 1st.

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“So what is it that we’ll be doing?” Bunnix asked as Black Bat silently leaped through the Gotham rooftops, camouflaging effortlessly with the shadows unlike her because of the white and baby blue costume she had on.

“You two will be checking up on Red Hood’s sector for the night, Crime Alley” Oracle’s voice responded for her.

“Right, so is this just a standard patrol?”

“Something like that”

Bunnix was admittedly a bit nervous about being with Black Bat, Cass didn’t really talk much and was kinda hot. Bunnix had just dutifully shadowed her, staying as quiet as she could even if she did more parkour than necessary, when they stumbled upon a drug deal. Bunnix was about to go down to smack some people around with her umbrella when Black Bat shook her head.

“One of Red Hood’s men, let’s wait to see the deal go through”

Bunnix wasn’t sure what to think as she watched the deal go down. Weren’t they supposed to be the ones to stop this from happening and not helping them? It was a bit confusing and against her moral code…

“We do this to keep the kids out of the involvement” Oracle seemed to read her mind, explaining their reasoning “Before Red Hood decided to get involved with drug trafficking Crime Alley was full of children who would be taken advantage of by dealers; whether it meant getting them addicted or becoming their messengers and delivery boys. He made it very clear to his ‘allies’ that no child from Crime Alley was getting involved in their plans again or else the deals were off. Those who tried going above him… well they’re no longer around to try and take him down”

Still that did not help ease Alix’s worries as the night continued on. Black Bat came to a sudden stop on top of a warehouse, gesturing for Bunnix to follow behind her, and climbing in through a shattered window. Inside were dozens of wooden crates, each with cameras pointed at them and only one with an open lid. Black Bat walked towards the open crate with ease, going inside and taking out three duffle bags from inside. She placed two on her, criss-crossing each other before handing the other one to a reluctant Bunnix.

The tow then headed to a hidden tunnel underneath one of the empty crates, making their way in a closed (?) Gotham sewer. It didn’t smell as disgusting as Alix imagined it would be, musky at best, though she thought that it may be due to the fact that there was no dirty sewage water there. They walked in relative ease, essentially walking for what had to be at least 15 minutes in numerous twists and turns before reaching a ladder. The two got out, Bunnix recognizing it as part of Crime Alley with how run down the area looked.

Black Bat knocked on a rusting steel door, three times, five, once and then a tap with her palm.

The door opened up, a boy no older than 12 being the ones to greet them.

“Where’s R.H?” he questioned, he looked disappointed but not alarmed, clearly he had met Black Bat before.

“Was busy. This is Bunnix, she’s helping for the night” The boy was clearly unimpressed with her but he closed the door and led them down the long hallway. She noticed the few scattered toys along the way, with some open doors showing mountains of writing supplies and even a little library.

What was this place?

“This is Red Hood’s sanctuary for the kids of Crime Alley” Black Bat whispered next to her “Batgirl and Red Hood are usually the ones to come here though all of us have come at some point.” they entered the large room showing children of all ages, some as young as infants and others looking close to early adulthood. They dropped the duffle bags in front of what she thought was the leader of the pack when Red Hood wasn’t around.

They were filled with non-perishable food, wads of money that will probably be used to provide for the group of 30 or even more for the next month, toys, books and some new clothes.

As the children gathered around, each a little dirtier than Alix remembered ever being as a child, lining up to get a new something that Red Hood got for them she couldn’t help but think;

… Maybe things were never so black and white.

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“I know it may seem frightening, even unnerving, to let go of your control but if you keep your powers bottled up it may prove to be disastrous in the future” Black Canary told the group of teens.

“With abilities bestowed to you like those of the Miraculous are left untrained then it may prove to lead to your downfall” Alfred nodded along to Dinah’s words.

“As capable as Ms.Lance and I are, we have realized that we would need further assistance to properly be able to train each of your abilities”

From one of the Batcave’s entrances they could hear the screech of tires before a slick black car parked next to the Batmobile and Hoodcycle.

“Sorry, we’re late” a red headed woman said as she stepped out of the car, her pale freckled skin slowly gaining a green tint to it as she removed her lab coat and glasses, “Selina here thought she could make a quick steal on our way here”

“Oh c’mon Pam, you know you love the rush as much as I do” a tanned woman laughed, twirling around a golden necklace with one of the biggest rubies they had ever seen in its center.

“Now, ladies; Pam-a-lamb has a class of powered kids to teach” they recognized Dr.Quinzel belatedly as she was missing her glasses and uniform. She was now wearing a much more colorful array of clothes with the consistent theme of red,black, and white. Her skin seemed paler than they remembered and her blonde hair had red tips on one side and blue on the other.

“Hey girls” Barbara came down the elevator at the same time as Stephanie and Cass, seemingly cutting their conversation when she saw the newcomers”

“Babs!” Dr.Quinzel exclaimed, making her way to the other girls after giving a quick kiss to the green skinned woman.

“Well you’re right on time Pam” Dinah sighed, cocking her hip before pointing at the newcomers “These are Dr.Pamela Isley otherwise known as the Gotham Rogue Poison Ivy, Selina Kyle a more vigilante type thief Catwoman, and, of course, you know Dr.Harleen Quinzel or as she prefers to go by Harley Quinn”

“Hey kittens” Selina waved at the group “By the way it's been too long since we girls have hung out; how’s about a Birds of Prey raid? You in?”

“Only if Oracle agrees” 

“Oh pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Stephanie and Harley’s persistent pleading could be heard immediately afterwards. A polite cough interrupted the chaos.

“As enthusiastic as you ladies are for your plans, may I remind you that we have prior plans to care for first. Namely the training”

“Sorry Alfie” Harley said, chastised, “We’ll get out of your hair. C’mon ladies!”

“...So training?” Marc asked

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“What happened to you?” was the first thing Kim laughed out as the duo stepped into the cave, leaving a trail of confetti and glitter behind. Marinette looked back at her team, unimpressed, in their own state of disarray.

Chloe, Max, Marc and Nathaniel seemed to be nursing their own cases of migraines; most likely having pushed the limits of their own new abilities which relied on mental fortitude. Chloe and Jason’s powers were the most similar to Alfred’s which involved manipulating and projecting thoughts and ideas to the people around them or to specific targets. Nathaniel was developing the power to create illusions that only his target would be allowed to see. Marc could create intangible clones of himself but could still project what they were seeing and hearing to him. Max could teleport objects a few meters away from or towards him.

Kagami, Kim, Adrien and Nino seemed the most physically exhausted. Kagami was beginning to have slight control of fire, wind and water but not yet conjuring it; given her slight burn marks, wet clothes and messy hair Marinette would guess that she still hadn’t fully grasped the manipulation aspect outside of being Ryuuko. Kim’s own face was dirty and slightly bruised and matched that of Adrien’s. Kim had begun to use his chaotic energy to make the wackiest things happen but to have the outcome he wanted while Adrien could suck the luck out of people for small intervals lest he want to have the misfortune backlash cling on him. Nino’s was more tame though he now had to focus on two things since he could now use his energy to both heal and to create a shield that encompased his body like armor.

“Oh god you guys look like messes!” Alix laughed along with Luka, the only two that looked fine as they had a fairly tame patrol with Cass and Tim.

“Next time I see Riddler remind me to throw a glitter bomb” Marinette grumbled as she made her way to the showers.

“Not before I stab him with his stupid cane” Damian growled heading for the male showers.

“So how long till Daminette guys?” Adrien asked

“Definitely before the end of the year” Duke concluded, the others not being sure if he used his power or not.

“I’ll take you up on that. I’ll bet we make more money than with Red Scales” Stephanie laughed.

“Red Scales?” Luka asked curiously before the others yelled out.

“Nothing!” 

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“Okay how come no one warned me about that!” Jason yelled as he came out of the Cave’s entrance. The group either gave questioning or amused looks.

“Oh, so you saw that too?” Alix asked, perched from one of the sofa’s armrests.

“You assholes could have given me a heads up” he complained before groaning into a sofa “God, someone get me some bleach”

“What’s Jaybird talking about?” Dick asked, coming in from the kitchen with an array of snacks for the rowdy bunch of teeneagers.

“Oh just Timbers getting some with the big bad snake boi” Stephanie sang, causing Jason to groan and Dick to choke on his own spit.

“More like trying to eat each other’s tongue out” Nathaniel responded in disgust.

“Timmy, no!” were the words the oldest yelled out before heading into the Batcave in record time.

“Anyway,” Stephanie began “It’s time to pay up bitches. Marinette and Cass get the loot”

🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫

“Hmm, so I guess that’s what fresh blood splatters looks like” Chat Noir said in morbid interest.

“Well it's certainly more noticeable than dried blood” Viperion nodded along, watching as Red Robin and Red Hood carried out the interrogation from a one-way mirror. There was a new gang who specialized in child trafficking, most of the kids coming from Crime Alley and therefore not getting reported to the police; luckily they had Red Hood looking out for them.

“Yes, well we are here to see how they carry out their investigation and get used to all the squeamish things” Ladybug gave a calculated look, as though she herself were in there and what she would do to get the information out of the man they captured earlier that night.

“Do you guys think this sort of thing is going too far?” MultiMouse asked curiously, he was beginning to grow a bit uncomfortable with the amount of blood the man had begun to lose. 

“I mean this asshole deserves it” Roter Fochs glared “I don’t think it's too much if it means saving all those kids”

“Standing on the edge of what is seen as a hero𑁋”

BANG

“Let’s you see all the things you can’t from the center” Ryuuko watched as the man was forcibly being held back up by Red Robin after Red Hood slammed his face on the interrogation table. 

“World is not black and white” Black Bat spoke from next to them “Many shades of gray in between; We are in the gray”

Ko-Fi

[xmalereader]

Jason Todd X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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@theplacewhererobindied

Request: Male!reader/Jason Todd? They met during one patrol where R saves Jay (being just like Jay)&they become friends immediately. Then R stays at Jay's place a lot, wears Jay's clothes to batfamdinners (Batfam notices this), they go out for food and when they come across the Batfam whenever they're patrolling together, Jay&R are always teasing the other, get into each personal space. One day Dick asks how long they've been together & they realise they're in love and they kiss in the rain *-*

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, flirting

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Jason and Y/n have been close friends for as long as they can remember, the two knew each other even before Bruce Wayne adopted Jason into the family. He was there when he received the knews about Jasons death and the news to when he came back to life and was reversing the rules that Batman had set. It took Jason a couple of months to recover and to start following the regular rules that were set down in the batfamily. Y/n always stayed by Jason’s side, that he actually had the guts to dress up as one of the bat members and patrol with Jason. He was always afraid of losing him.

They would follow each other around every time they patrolled together and would sometimes crack up jokes or even tease one another. Things were going well until Jason started to invite him over at his place, they would stay up all night either talking or watching a movie, sometimes they would cuddle in bed but that didn’t seem to give off any weird vibes between the two. They were so close that Jason would offer his clothes to y/n and he would walk around the manor wearing Jason’s oversized clothes as he either goes to the bathroom or to just walk around the gardens outside.

Dick was the first one to notice this, he noticed how close both y/n and Jason were when they would hang out together or just talk to each other. He was able to sense the teasing tone in there voices every time they spoke, sometimes y/n would tease Jason so hard that he would put him into a flustered state that shocked Dick the most since Jason was always a closed up guy and only spoke rudely to others but when it came to Y/n he spoke about him like he was his boyfriend. Soon, another question popped up in his mind, Are they dating??

Dick didn’t know what to think, it’s not like he was against people who liked the same sex it was just that it was a bit unbelieveable for him to think that Jason was actually dating someone that opened him up. Usually him and Damian would try to open him up but it always ended in a fight between Jason and Damian since they were always arguing with each other.

Tim on the other hand wasn’t as useful, he was always locked up drowning himself in coffee and focusing on his cases...felt like he didn’t even live with them.

As the months go by, both Jason’s and y/n’s relationship has grown stronger. One night they were out on patrol and keeping an eye out for anything dangerous. Y/n was sitting on the edge of the roof as he kicked his legs and hums to himself,

“Where is my little robin?” Y/n sang out softly as he continues to hum and stare out into the distance.

“Little robin? You and Damian dating or something?” He is startled by Jasons voice. He leans back to tilt his head backwards to see Jason standing behind him. “Nope, Damian is too sassy for me and I was talking about you. We always patrol together and yet somehow you ended up coming late, again.” He reminds his red hood as he stands up and giggled.

Y/n jumps down to Jason’s side, smiling as he wraps his arm around Jason’s arm and smirks at him. “Your never late, so tell me. Why were you late?” He asks and pulls his arms away and placed them on his hips. Jason could only laugh and shake his head. “I was just in the bat cave doing some research that Tim asked me to do.” He answers back. “Hm, that’s odd. Tim doesn’t usually ask for help.” Said y/n as he placed a finger under his chin and shrugs. “Well at least you were being a good brother and helping him out.”

The younger male turns around to proceed there patrol. He sits again and lets his legs swing back and forth and hums his little song again.

Jason could only stare at the back of Y/n’s head, he was slowly frowning from under his mask as he continued to watch the other sing to himself. Jason and Y/n have been friend for as long as he can remember and he really cared about him but lately his feelings for y/n have been changing. Yeah, he liked him as a friend but there were times when he would just want to grab his face and kiss him so hard that he wouldn’t even forget who kissed him but he was afraid.

Jason wasn’t afraid of anything but losing y/n was one of his biggest fears. He always doubted himself on confessing so he kept those feelings bottled up and far away.

Shaking his head he walks over to sit next to y/n, smiling a little as he glanced at him. He turns back to look at the city and just sits there and waits for anything to happen.

The two remained silent for part of the night, no crimes have happened so far and Jason was grateful. He didn’t feel like dealing with anyone right now since he was too busy staring at y/n. Before they could call it a night it started to rain, y/n raised a brow and held his hand out to feel the drops land on his hand. “It’s probably going to rain harder soon so we should head back and report to Batman.” He says. Glancing over to Jason only to see him staring at him. “What?” He says.

Jason slowly approaches y/n, he lifts his hands up to remove his mask. Y/n steps back a little in confusion. “Jason what-?” He opens his mouth but is cut off by Jason handing him his helmet. Y/n takes it and looks down at it, tilting his head. “What is this for exactly?” He questions. Tilting his head back up to see Jason staring down at him with a nervous look. “I just want you to hold it for a while and maybe use it to hit me.”

“Hit you? Jason, why would I hit you with this?”

“Because who knows if what I’m about to do is acceptable to you.”

“Jason-“

Jason placed a hand against y/n’s cheek and pulls him into a kiss. The kiss was moist since it was pouring down rain but it was nice and warm. Jason’s lips were soft and warm. Y/n lets out a small moan as he lets the helmet slip from his hands, hearing it land on the pavement he wraps his arms around Jason’s neck and deepens the kiss.

The two remained in the rain kissing for a good several minutes, this was how there first kiss was. Standing on top of a rooftop late at night and kissing in the rain.

That was four years ago.

Now that they have been dating for four years they have also been staying over at each other’s place. They continued to patrol together until y/n was the first one to retire from being a vigilant. He has recently gotten a job at an art studio and had become a teacher, he tried to balance work and hero nights a few times bit it always ended up with him waking up late and grading assignement were always late too. He even got to a point where he had to drink coffee every morning and he didn’t want to end up like Tim.

He remembers approaching Bruce and telling him that he was retiring, he gave his reasons and apologized. Feeling a bit guilty for leaving the team but Bruce was able to understand and still welcomed him into the family. He even invited him to have dinner with them tonight at the manor. Y/n couldn’t refuse the offer.

So, here he was sitting across from Jason as he eats dinner with the rest of the family.

“Can’t believe your leaving me, I thought we were friends!” Tim says out dramatically as he stabs into his spaghetti and whimpers. Y/n only laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you guys, I just cant focus with both work and patrol. But, I’ll still be around to visit. We all know that Jason cant live without me.” He teased as he sends the skunk head a wink.

Jason hides his blushing face and clears his throat, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He mumbled back and shoves food into his mouth to keep himself from talking.

Dick raised a brow and clears his throat. “Hey y/n, got any hot dates recently? I’ve got a friend who’s needing a date for Saturday.” He offers, he noticed the small glare on Jason’s face.

Y/n swallows his food and shakes his head. “I’ve already have someone.”

“You’ve got a girlfriend?” Damian asks this time as he smirks at him.

Y/n chuckled, “boyfriend,” he corrects. “Thanks for the offer Dick but I don’t think my boyfriend would approve of that.” He turns to face Jason. “Ain’t that right skunk head?”

Everyone’s heads turn to Jason.

“That’s right, so Dick stop hooking him up with dates when he already has a boyfriend.”

Dick only stares with a smirk. “I knew it! I knew you two were dating!”

“Wait there dating?” Tim.

“Who would want to date him?” Damian.

“Wait, Jason can date?” Bruce.

Y/n’s stared at them in shock, “you guys didn’t know that we were dating? I thought it was obvious...” he says shyly and stared down at his plate of food and pushed a meatball around.

“I knew!” Said dick.

“How long have you guys been dating?” Damian asks this Time as he eats some spaghetti.

“....four years..”

Bruce chokes on his water and coughs violently as Damian gags on his food and spits it out. While Dick’s mouth was wide open in shock and Tim was slowly processing everything.

“Four years?!” Damian shouts out as he stands up from his seat.

“What? You jealous, demon spawn?” Jason grins at his little brother as he twirled his fork around on his fingers.

“You wish.” Damian hissed out and glared.

“It’s not a big deal...?” Y/n shrugs as Damian slams his hands on the table.

“It’s a huge deal! Jason can’t be dating the most intelligent and attractive person in this family!”

“Ohhh, coming out moment.” Says Tim with an evil grin.

Damian blushed, “I’m not gay, drake!” He shouts back as the two began to argue and toss garlic bread at each other. As Bruce sits in his seat, sighing at the two youngest kids he has. “I don’t mind that Jason is dating y/n, just a little surprised but as long as they both treat each other well than I am fine with that.”

Y/n, Jason, and Dick were to only ones who heard Bruce since both Damian and Tim were still fighting.

Y/n smiles at Bruce and nods his head in agreement. “We treat each other well.”

Once all of that was settled both Damian and Tim were have a war with the bread sticks. “Kids these days.” Says Dick. “tell me about it.” Y/n says as he watched the rivalry against the siblings.

‘What-?! Jason put that bread stick down!!”

[sunmaylight]

Red Hood Crossover Idea

Katekyou Hitman Reborn x Red Hood 

Lightning Guardian Jason Todd whose Sky is Byakuran.

Main Points (aka incidents where Jason uses/learns about Flames):

Jason has unlocked Lightning Flames while he was on the streets before Batman took him in. He kept the Flames a secret because he has seen kids who flaunted Flames around taken off the streets before Batman or Robin could save them. They wouldn’t have noticed either because all of the kids who have been taken are kids like himself, orphans who live on the streets.

When Bruce adopted Jason and trained him to become the next Robin, Jason tried to tell Bruce about the abductions happening right under Batman’s nose yet he doesn’t believe him. So Jason goes off on his own to gather proof for him. 

Jason stumbles upon the Vindice on pure accident as he witness a man from an unknown Famiglia get captured with chains and dragged into a portal. One of the Vindice sees him and senses the Activated Flames on him. The Vindice warns Jason to not get involved before vanishing through the same portal. When Jason come back home, he doesn’t bring up the abduction problem and it’s forgotten by Bruce.

As Robin, Jason sometimes sparks Lightning Flames while fighting. Batman barely notices and if he does, he brushes it off as something Alfred and Dick added to the Robin suit. The sparks die down as Jason learns control over them.

In ‘Death of a Family’, Jason sparks Lightning Flames every time he is tortured by the Joker. The longer it happens, the weaker his Flames become until he ends up a slightly less bloody mess than canon. 

The explosion still happens and Bruce is too late to save Jason. The two might have gotten a few more words spoken to one another, but Jason inevitably dies in the end.

The revival scene happens with the addition of lightning hitting Jason, ‘reigniting’ his Flames so to speak. Though with his catatonic state on the streets, he is sparking Lightning Flames like a broken faucet when he runs into danger.

When Jason is taken into the League of Assassins, he is a walking Pikachu with the Static ability activate for the first month. It made training Jason more of an exercise that by the end of it, all of his trainers have a slight resistance to electricity.

Talia found out that Jason stop shocking everyone with his Flames when he is in the library. He is then placed near the library until he stopped shocking everyone with his Flames. After that, Jason underwent training and was assigned babysitting duties for Damian. Though if he is too stressed out, he will start shocking people again

After some time, Jason is dumped into the Lazarus Pit. His Lightning Flames became chaotic when he exited. It is constantly tethering the lines into Discord that it is maddening. The only ‘good’ thing that came out of that experience is Jason awakening Cloud Flames as his secondary Flames.

Jason is then sent into the All Caste training route, but this time with Flame training. He learned about Flame Lore and everything that a Flame Active person should know as well as how Flames are connected to the Mafia.

Then canon happens until he reaches Gotham. Jason bumps in to Byakuran while he was scouting the area seeing what changed while he was gone. After their first encounter, Byakuran has latched himself to Jason like an annoying octopus. Essentially making it harder for Jason to do his work in his quest for revenge.

Their first meeting involves Byakuran annoying locals in Crime Alley, Jason being the unfortunate soul to stumble into said alley, a knife, some blood, and the loss of a marshmallow deluxe dessert.

What Jason doesn’t know is that his Flames are subconsciously reacting to Byakuran’s Sky Flames and Byakuran’s Flames in return. Poor Jason doesn’t know why Byakuran forced him to be his tour guide and dragging him to random restaurants/cafes in Gotham. All he knows is that Byakuran will get a cavity or cardiac arrest if he isn’t there to stop the man from consuming so many marshmallows.

Also his tethering Discord Flames feel the most stable around Byakuran that Jason doesn’t realize he tries to seek Byakuran out every time he goes out.

Jason finally enacts his plans from ‘Under the Red Hood’. Everything happens accordingly until the bomb goes off. Bruce tries to shield Jason from the explosion. Jason uses his Lightning Flames to protect both of them from the blast. 

(Did Jason die at the end of that???) 

Batman leaves the scene of the explosion to take Joker back to Arkham. Byakuran heads to the explosion site and finds Jason. He takes Jason back with him to Italy. Byakuran’s Guardians and subordinates are not surprised by this. 

Jason wakes up to the sight of Byakuran and learns that Byakuran is a Mafia Boss. He is somehow convinced to have a partnership with Byakuran’s Famiglia in exchange for more Flame Training and being provided with a Flame Ring. 

Jason: “No Byakuran. I will not make you another marshmallow parfait.” 

Byakuran: “My, my. How cruel of you to do this to a Mafia Boss, Speedwell”

Jason: “What did you call me?”

Byakuran: “Nothing.” :)

Jason leaves Italy to try and reunite with his family in Gotham with a nickname, a group of people who would welcome him again and a shiny new ring with a big green gemstone and wings on it. 

Jason does not know the significants of this Ring. His Flames calm down though. There is still some Discord in them, but significantly less than before.

The reunion goes as well as expected of DC canon. Jason as Red Hood forms the Outlaws and gets caught in all kinds of adventures. Takes his group to Italy to visit Byakuran at least every other month if he can with both groups of Outlaws. He doesn’t get why they are weary of Byakuran. Sure he is a Mafia Boss, but he has been more helpful to Jason than harmful.

Circumstances of canon happen that lead to Jason heavily injured and kicked out of Gotham. This makes his Cloud Flames rage because Crime Alley is his territory. Batman doesn’t get a say in it after neglecting this place.  

When Jason wakes up after RHatO #25, his Flames are reacting wildly. Lashing out at anything and everything until Byakuran calms him down. His Flames calm down and stabilize enough that the two Harmonize. Jason is told the truth about his Ring and accepts the Guardian position, but not joining the Famiglia. He is interested in contracted work though, as long as he doesn’t harm kids.

Byakuran gets a complete set of Guardians and his threat level is raised, but not really since Jason isn’t around Byakuran like his other Guardians. Jason takes in Byakuran’s Lightning Guardian position and shakes things up in the superhero world as a vigilante that no one knows the real identity of with his new name given to him by his Sky, Speedwell.

Speedwell has a similar MO to Red Hood, but different enough that no one will notice unless if they compare the two side by side. 

Jason as Speedwell gets teased because his name is also known as Veronica Persica. He knows this and reacts accordingly, but overall doesn’t care because it is a name that is solely his. There is no one who had this name before him. A clean slate where he can make a name for himself with no burdens and comfort that there are people who are genuinely there for him

[darlinglissa]

you’re under fire (i’ll cover you)

my fic for @batfam-big-bang is here!!!! i hope you enjoy the read and if you do go ahead and reblog or even leave a comment!!

summary:

When Tim is injured on patrol, he's ordered to bedrest. Instead he finds himself running straight to the doorstep of a man who tried to kill him--the Red Hood. 

or: how tim drake finds common ground with jason todd--the ground of a warehouse, that is--and bonds over it.

words: 5,993

here’s a link to my fic on ao3!

and my post that talks more about the lovely people who made this possible!

As the sharp right hook lands on his cheekbone, Tim snaps out of focus for a few seconds and misses the uppercut aimed at his jaw. The hit knocks him back a few feet, but he manages to keep his legs steady enough to stay upright. He clenches his teeth from the burning in his shoulder, the bullet that struck it earlier shifting with every movement.

Apparently thugs don’t appreciate drop-ins, and throwing their guns out the window only aggravates them further. Tim learns something new everyday. 

And his dad said putting on a cape wouldn’t be beneficial.

A voice in the back of Tim’s mind hisses that he won’t last much longer like this, but he shoves that thought further back. Tightening his hold on his bo staff, he feels a newfound determination that’s gathered in him purely out of spite.

This determination lasts for a solid five hits, with Tim landing some good licks on the thug, but then a lucky aim knocks the staff from his hands and breaks two of his fingers along with it. The adrenaline rushing through him numbs the pain so easily that Tim hardly even registers feeling them crack. That voice hisses more urgently, and it’s morphing uncomfortably close to Dick’s voice, but Tim continues to ignore it in favor of concentrating on the broad man in front of him.

Priorities and all that.

If he weren’t currently getting his ass handed to him, Tim would feel the frustration that comes with wrongfully underestimating an opponent. It’s a rookie mistake that would make Bruce look at him with his Disappointed Dad Look for a couple minutes until he relents and tells Tim to hit the showers.

Never assume a thug is an easy drop. It’s been drilled into his head and then some since he was thirteen and started this hero gig. 

And yet he did.

Tim is a bit preoccupied to really dwell on this. There’s always later to really drown in everything he’s done wrong tonight, when he’s home and the thug is dealt with.

The thug pulls something out of his pocket, metal glinting in the harsh light of the warehouse. Tim chances a look over at his bo staff, several feet away. 

Okay. There might not be a later.

“Killing a Robin won’t be as original as you think,” Tim says dryly, eying the knife to try gauging the thug’s next move from subtle body language.

His right shoulder is tensed, and his legs are bending at the knees—oh shit. Stabby springs forward, knife ready to run Tim through. The bullet slows him down considerably, but Stabby doesn’t seem to be as adept with his knife as he is with his gun and fists.

Tim dodges sloppily, his shoulder twitching in pain at the sharp movement. His jagged motions match Stabby’s wild swings in time as well as he can through the agony. They move like dancers with two left feet until Tim slips up and doesn’t escape the distance quick enough. The knife slides smoothly between his armor plates, the luckiest shot Stabby has probably ever gotten in his criminal life.

Tim staggers back. He uses the momentum of the thrust to knock Stabby away from him in an attempt to make space to catch his breath for a moment. A bullet in your shoulder and a knife sticking out of your side really take a lot out of you, apparently.

That proves to be a mistake when Stabby’s friend, Trigger Happy, rouses from the corner Tim had dragged him to earlier after disarming him and knocking him out. His shoulder throbs at the reminder of the bullet wedged next to his shoulder blade, and he’s relieved that he had the sense to take the guns out of the equation. 

That relief is sucked away when Trigger Happy lunges himself at Tim, who isn’t prepared for a two-on-one in his condition. 

Bruce would be fine in these odds. Tim knows this. Dick would even have a high chance of coming out of this relatively fine, with a few extra flips and kicks. If Damian could see him now, he can only imagine how he would lose the dregs of respect he’s managed to earn from the kid.

A small “Fuck,” escapes him, and he can’t tell if it’s from the sudden weight on his gunshot wound or the deep cut of feelings that hit him when he thinks of the capabilities of the other bats; the disappointment he can feel from just the image of Bruce in his mind.

Tim’s thoughts linger on Bruce in subconscious desperation, but he clears that away quickly and puts his attention back to the fight at hand.

It seems gravity is betting against Tim in this fight, pulling the floor from under him as he starts to feel dangerously dizzy, crumpling under Trigger Happy like a paper bag. Stabby may not be adept with the blade, but Trigger Happy is a triple threat with his fists, gun, and knife. His hands are on the knife for mere seconds—seconds—before Tim manages to wrestle away from his grip, and yet he could still feel the knife twist ever so slightly, carving through his flesh.

His nerves scream bloody murder.

Out of pure survival instinct, Tim pulls a batarang from a pocket and shoves it into Trigger Happy’s arm, causing him to cry out in pain and scramble to let go of him. Tim lands hard on the ground, his stomach meeting the concrete, but hardly feels anything but the knife settling uncomfortably into its new position in his side. 

Trigger Happy runs out of the warehouse, blood flowing from his arm. Tim relaxes minutely—one-on-one is more doable—and throws a second batarang at Stabby when Tim notices him advancing toward him. It hits Stabby in the abdomen shallowly, his karma running out along with the puff of air escaping his lips at the shock of being stabbed.

Or, at least, that’s the reason Tim’s mind, addled by blood loss, supplies for him. His body slumps against the ground despite every instinct screaming at him to get back up. Stabby laughs slightly at Tim’s limp body and steps over him, boot pressing into the steadily growing puddle of blood.

“The Bat’s kids aren’t as invulnerable as they say they are, huh, Red Robin?”

Tim’s eyes remain trained on each bloody boot print that trails behind Stabby as he walks out of the warehouse, presumably feeling triumphant over killing another Robin. After his eyes start to water from staying open too long he blinks and comes back to the world abruptly, the sensations his mind had been blocking returning to his wounds.

His comm lies about ten feet away from him, he notices suddenly, and he feels dread seep through every inch of his body. Tim tries to move closer to reach for it, but his side and shoulder protest wildly and he stops moving with a grunt.

Hesitation forces his finger to pause over the button hidden at the nape of his neck where his cape rests. Before he can put too much thought behind it, though, he presses down and sets off the silent emergency alarm. Tim relaxes down against the concrete, letting the blood loss blur his vision for the moment.

With the adrenaline from the fight draining out of him along with the blood in his body, Tim is becoming more and more aware of the pain pulsing with his every heartbeat. 

He’s painstakingly aware of his surroundings suddenly: the dim high rises of the warehouse with the hanging lights that beam down severely, the stacks of crates along the walls and in the occasional heap where Tim and Trigger Happy had knocked them over before Tim subdued him.

The trail of blood from the ever-widening puddle that far too closely resembled what he imagined to be Jason’s last view before the ticking came to a stop with a bang. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a stopwatch had started with the press of his emergency button. The hand hits the forty-five second mark as Tim feels almost hypnotized by those bloody boot prints leading from his body to the exit. 

This could be his end, and he’s stuck looking at the footprints left by his murderer imprinted with his own blood. It’s better than watching a timer tick down, he supposes, but just as lonely. 

The warehouse closes around him, suffocating him all of a sudden, and all he can think about as he struggles to breathe is Bruce. Bruce, who’s already lost a Robin in a warehouse. Bruce, who can’t handle losing another soldier in his war against Gotham’s crime. Bruce, who became a father figure for Tim when he’d needed one most, just as Tim  became the partner Batman had needed after Jason.

He sees the stopwatch hit a minute and a half in his mind’s eye. It seems that his penchant for keeping track of time for patrol reports isn’t failing him, even at his end. 

The time it had taken Bruce to make it to the warehouse Jason had been tricked into going to in Ethiopia was hidden deep in the Batcomputer’s files, but Tim had found it within his first month as Robin.

Two minutes and twenty-three seconds.

Tim reckons he’ll be too far gone by then. He’s not willing to bet money—the blood loss isn’t helping his brain any—but he likes to think it’s not affecting him too much. 

He’s forced to reconsider that as the room starts spinning, and he bites back a curse. The stopwatch is nearing two minutes and Tim’s chances of making it out of this warehouse alive are dwindling. 

This is how Red Robin goes out? In a fight with a couple rookies and their bad aim? Out of sheer incredulity, Tim laughs. He can survive Gotham’s streets at age nine but nineteen year old Tim can’t take on thugs he’s been trained to beat. The irony cuts as deep as the knife in his side.

His eyes are closing on the sight of his blood spreading around him as the pain encompasses him. In his mind’s eye, the stopwatch hits two minutes and fifteen seconds. Tim is ready to lay here for whatever is left of his life, ready for Gotham to finally see the end of another Robin, ready to let his blood drain out so the pain can numb—he hears the rev of an engine and his eyes snap open.

Bruce. He made it.

Two minutes and seventeen seconds.

Tim almost sobs in relief. He has to stop himself when the movement twitches the blade in his side. He grunts at the sudden pain, but all he can think is Bruce as he tries to sit up anyway. His palm slides on the slick ground, his body crashing back down and he cries out.

Hands are pulling him up suddenly, and Tim stammers out Bruce’s name, his own hands scrambling for purchase on the Batsuit. 

But it’s not the Batsuit. It’s Nightwing’s suit.

“Dick?” His voice is hoarse and so small. Tim’s watery eyes meet Dick’s through both their domino masks.

Dick tightens his grip on Tim, securing his hold on him. “Hey there, Baby Bird, I got ya.”

“Where’s—” Tim’s voice breaks, and he hates it. He looks away from Dick, putting his head on his shoulder instead. “Where’s Bruce?” His voice still wavers, but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it.

“He, uh—” Dick cuts himself off, and Tim realizes he’s listening to his comm. A hand leaves Tim for a split second as Dick turns it off. “He wasn’t as close as I was, so he sent me.”

Tim nods absentmindedly, vaguely processing his answer. Before he can really finish processing, Dick is talking again.

“But he’s almost here, so we need to wait for him, okay, Baby Bird? I need you to stay awake for me. Don’t fall asleep on me, you know you drool,” he tries to joke, but Tim can’t feel the normal rise that would get out of him. 

In fact, he can’t feel much right now. That’s mildly concerning.

He tries to tell Dick as much, but his mouth won’t cooperate enough to form the words. Dick keeps sending him worried looks, and deep down he knows why, he knows he knows why, but at this point he really just wants to sleep.

Has he ever been this tired before? He’s stayed awake for a solid 33 hours before, and he doesn’t remember it feeling quite like this.

“Hey! Hey, stay awake.” 

Tim’s eyes open slowly, and he feels Dick relax. “Wha...?”

He registers another rev of an engine, and he’s confirmed that it’s really Bruce when he sees him hurry into the warehouse.

“You were supposed to stake out the warehouse.”

Bruce is right. He was. Crashing in through the window and fighting the thugs was not on tonight’s to-do list. He should apologize. Or sort through files for the next month. Or give up the cape—

And yet. “Bruce?” is all he can say. 

The set of Batman’s mouth softens the slightest bit, but his voice remains firm as he turns his intense stare to Dick. “Get him in the car. I need to look around.”

Next thing Tim knows Dick is adjusting his grip on him to carry him to the Batmobile, and pain is flaring through him. He tries to protest, to stop Dick from doing whatever it is he’s doing—it hurts, stop, please—but it’s all in vain.

“I know, Timmy,” Dick says lowly, his voice straining as he walks to the sleek car, and Tim lets himself go limp.

Getting in the car happens within a blink, limbs being maneuvered this way and that. Somewhere between his legs being pushed into the right position and his head being placed against Dick, Bruce has taken his place in the driver’s seat and the Batmobile is rumbling beneath him.

The ride back to the cave is a blur of pain and incoherent sights and sounds, streetlights blinding him for fleeting seconds like his own personal rave from hell. Tim thinks Dick is saying words but they fall flat against his eardrums. 

He vaguely registers Dick removing his cape and harness, but Tim’s head is stuffed with cotton and he just feels nothing for the first time in...whatever. The seat beneath him is familiar and foreign at once. With his mind in a fog and his body feeling ethereal, his hand drops onto the seat, the leather feeling cool against his burning skin. 

It’s been months since he’s been in this car, since he’s been with Bruce in this car. Since he’s been with Bruce in any car, really. He spent more time on planes and buses and in cabs than in personal cars.

His eyes, though glazed over, look up at Dick. He’s talking still, but not to Tim. Dick was in this car every night with Damian for almost a year, but Tim couldn’t go near it until he found Bruce. He couldn’t taint those memories of chasing the robbery of the night or driving home with his Batman, the Robin cape weighing his shoulders down, but his chest puffed out in pride.

Tim’s brought back momentarily when he feels the Batmobile stop rumbling and he’s being pulled from the car, from his memories of the good and the hectic and the Batman and Robin of his past. For a second he tries to fight, to stay in that lost time, but then Tim hisses out the remaining breath from his lungs as his side is jostled. He shrinks back from something cold against his now bare back—when was his suit pulled down?

When the floor starts moving away from him—or is he moving?—Tim stops struggling against the cold and rests against it fully. He sees Dick pushing his gurney toward the medbay, saying something about a wake, and he finally lets himself close his eyes and pass the fuck out.

It’s late evening when Tim comes to. He feels the pull of the IV in his hand and the crook of his elbow, grimacing as he tries to sit up. He feels a hand immediately push him back down, the unexpected pressure forcing him to sober up and actually look around him. Dick’s face is suddenly all he can see, and Tim jerks and falls back against the pillow. 

“How are you feeling, Timbo?” Dick asks from his left, sitting in a chair and looking like he’s been there for a long time. His earnest eyes give Tim’s body a once over to make sure nothing came out of place when he sat up. 

“Like shit,” Tim mumbles. He rubs his palms over his eyes, ignoring the prick of pain from the IV needle jostling in his arm. “How long was I out?”

“19 hours.” 

Bruce’s deep voice from his right startles Tim enough to jump. The needle tugs sharply and he winces, letting out a soft, “Fuck,” which earns him a stern grunt from Bruce.

Dick takes Tim’s arm, tugging it to pull Tim’s hand from his face, sympathy lining every worried crease between his eyebrows. “I’m gonna go get Alfie, you stay here and rest.” He pats Tim’s shoulder twice before he leaves the medbay. 

Bruce’s stare burns Tim’s forehead to a crisp. Tim refuses to move his gaze from the bandages wrapped around his torso. The man may be a solid eight feet away from him but Tim can feel the imposing presence as if he’s directly next to him. 

Counting to 5 in his mind, Tim waits Bruce out. He hits 5 just as Bruce says, “You were supposed to be watching the building.”

He rolls his eyes, finally meeting Bruce’s eyes for the first time since he’s woken up. “Yeah, well, that one thug was just so ugly I had to punch him, you know?” When Bruce’s expression doesn’t change, Tim sighs. “I couldn’t get a good view from outside, so I went up into the rafters instead. That’s when I saw it was an active deal.” He decidedly leaves out the part about the bird flying in his face, and the part where he tripped on his cape, and the part of him falling right behind the two thugs dealing. Tim shrugs. “I guess they got spooked and my cover was blown.”

Bruce narrows his eyes but doesn’t question him immediately. Taking the small win, Tim tries to move on from what happened in the warehouse last night. Before he can get a word out to change the subject, Alfred sweeps into the room.

Tim waits patiently as he checks him over, not quite registering as Alfred goes through the usual procedures. He notices Damian hovering at the entranceway, but through the haze of morphine he doesn’t think much of it. 

He zones out, but is brought back by Bruce’s deep voice. “Until Alfred can clear you, you’ll be benched from patrol.” Tim goes to protest, arguing how he isn’t too injured to go back out tomorrow, but Bruce won’t hear any of it. 

Before the argument can progress, the alarm on the computer blares. Bruce turns and goes to the computer, tapping at the keyboard for a moment before calling to Damian. Tim blinks and Damian has changed into his uniform and the two are off in the Batmobile.

Tim sits there for a moment. He feels more than sees Alfred shuffle around him, putting away the medical supplies. 

His fingers tap against his thigh. The rhythm speeds up with every moment he sits on the cot, his heartbeat pulsing beneath his bandages. His stitches feel like they’re crawling over his wounds over and over and he resists the urge to scratch at them until he can’t feel them anymore. 

Feeling the sudden need to be anywhere but this medbay, Tim stands up from the cot and barely says anything beyond a simple, “I’m going to bed,” to Alfred.

His face is carefully blank as he says this, not meaning a damn word. 

The halls blend together slightly as Tim goes toward his room. He turns right at the last moment, heading for the manor’s garage. The garage has air that won’t suffocate him and a way out with no one to stop him. 

Or so he thought.

Just as Tim sees the door to the garage, he stops short when Cass comes in from the garage herself. They stand opposite each other for a few moments. She eyes the bandages poking out from the collar of Tim’s shirt before smiling and making the first move.

“Be safe.” She pats his uninjured shoulder as she passes him, her steps making no sound as she goes.

The air trapped in his lungs suddenly pushes out, leaving him breathless. Trying to shake it off, he pushes forward into the garage. It’s dark but he doesn’t bother with the light switch. Tim’s hand finds the keypad and the garage door slides open in front of him.

For the first time since he woke up he can breathe. Truly breathe. So that’s all he does, leaning against the cold cement wall of the garage. Once the world stops shaking around him, he pushes off the wall. Before Tim can stop and go back inside to sleep for another day he’s climbing onto his motorcycle, kicking off to leave the garage behind him.

Tim glides through the streets, letting the sharp wind prickle his skin. He turns randomly, feeling the endless possibilities with no destination in mind.

He hits a turn a bit too sharply and pays for it immediately. The bandages feel wet, clinging to his skin, and a glance down confirms that blood is seeping through. In a split second panic he recognizes the street name to his right and he follows the route he has memorized in case of emergencies.

Even if he never thought he would need to use it.

His motorcycle is parked in front of Jason’s main safe house and he’s in the elevator heading to the fourth floor within three blinks of Tim’s eyes. 

They were pretty long blinks, to be fair.

He doesn’t know if he’s hoping Jason is in there or not, but he crosses the old stained carpet to apartment 4C all the same. Tim knocks on the faded door as soon as he reaches it.

It takes a long moment, but then the door opens to reveal a disheveled Jason Todd rubbing one hand over his face, the other bracing his weight on the top of the door. He looks at Tim before asking flatly, “The fuck are you doing here.”

Without having thought he’d get this far, Tim flounders before blurting out, “Oh hi.”

Jason stares Tim down, very bemused. “Oh hi?” He rolls his eyes, shutting the door and grumbling, “Can’t deal with this shit.”

Before the door can close completely, Tim starts to tip and catches himself on the doorframe. That gives Jason pause, and Jason looks Tim up and down as if really seeing him for the first time tonight. Tim feels the blood seeping through his bandages and soaking into his shirt.

Jason sighs, his eyes glancing upwardly before he opens the door wider, looking like he ate a sour piece of fruit. “Fine. Before I change my mind.” He turns away to walk to the hall bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t get blood on my couch.”

Tim can’t stop looking at the Wonder Woman logo printed on Jason’s pajama pants over and over, a large embroidered logo in the center of his ass. Figures this is what the all-fearing Red Hood wears on his night off. 

“Nice pants.” Tim grimaces. He’s not doing great at this whole ‘hey I’m at your apartment, no I don’t really know why, but hey could you help me while I’m here?’ “I mean—”

“Stop talking, kid.” Jason emerges from the bathroom with a banged up first aid kit. “At least they’re not blood-soaked,” he snipes.There’s really no heat behind the words as his hands maneuver the bandages away from Tim’s torso. Tim hisses in pain when the cut is shifted in a movement, and Jason winces. “Fuck, who did you piss off?”

“I called them Stabby and Trigger Happy.” Tim forces out a chuckle. “A couple thugs from Two-Face’s gang.”

Jason inspects the damage, letting out a low whistle. “Well, Stabby got pretty friendly with your kidney.”

With a wry grin, Tim retorts, “Actually he missed it by half an inch.” He lets out another hiss when Jason removes a bandage a little too quickly. “Ouch.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Jason says with a roll of his eyes. His fingers thread a needle. After he cleans away stray blood stains from Tim’s stomach, he starts restitching the wound. Tim makes small grunts of pain with every other push of the needle, and Jason grimaces with each noise.

Tim watches as Jason ties off the last stitch. As soon as Jason kneels back on his heels Tim is flopping back away from him, leaning against the base of the couch. While Jason cleans up the various threads and the needle, Tim stares down at the stitches lining his side. 

They’re not badly done, like he’d been half-expecting. For a guy who didn’t go into the medical field they’re actually pretty damn even. Tim’s vision goes black for a split second, and he lets his head fall back against the couch cushion. 

Okay, maybe he isn’t as healed up as he originally thought. 

He feels Jason’s gaze on him every few seconds, but he’s more focused on rubbing the dizziness from his eyes.

The next time he opens his eyes a bowl of pasta is being thrust into his hands with a glass of apple juice set at his side. He stares at the bowl blankly, the image he’s seeing not processing with where he is.

Jason pushes the bowl so it’s cradled in the dip of Tim’s lap and isn’t at risk of spilling over. “Eat.” 

Tim looks away from the bowl to Jason, hoping to hide the confusion on his face. From the look Jason is giving him, it’s not very successful. 

“Just eat the fucking pasta.” Jason moves past him to settle heavily on the couch next to Tim’s shoulder. 

Tim takes a small bite, sighing after he swallows. “It’s cold.”

“You’ll live.”

Pouting, Tim takes a few more bites. It’s, admittedly, not the worst he’s ever eaten. Better than the pancakes Dick attempted to make for Father’s Day last year. He drinks the apple juice in three gulps.

He feels the cushion shift behind him as Jason fidgets, and Tim stuffs his face with more pasta to look anywhere but Jason. 

The silence is palpable for a few minutes until Jason finally breaks it by saying, “So why are you bleeding on my doorstep in the middle of the night?”

“Uhhh.” A pasta noodle falls back into the bowl, dropping from Tim’s open mouth after he’d been shoveling a forkful in, not expecting the loaded question Jason just dropped on him. “You know, just passing by.” 

He hears Jason scoff and shrinks around the bowl in his hands. “Passing by,” Jason repeats, his voice slightly incredulous. “Passing by a building two and a half miles from your apartment? And even further from the manor?”

Tim carefully shrugs with his good shoulder, contemplating his answer. He rolls possible excuses around his tongue, but eventually he comes out with, “I needed a change of scenery.” Internally he screams at himself, because what kind of vague bullshit is that? But it’s the hole he’s dug for himself, time to lie in it. “And I figured, uh, this was a pretty big change, y’know?”

He chances a glance over his shoulder at Jason, and sighs at the narrowed eyes looking back at him. “It is a change of scenery,” he mutters, looking away. A little more loudly, he says, “I just needed to get out of the manor for a while.”

“You were at the manor?”

Tim half-shrugs again. “I was a bit too out of it to tell them to take me to my apartment.”

Not expecting the blunt response, whatever Jason plans to retort falls flat, and Tim eats more pasta.  

They sit in silence once more, the only sounds around them being Tim’s fork scraping against the bowl and Jason’s near-silent-but-definitely-still-happening breakdown as he processes Tim’s statement.

Tim shrinks even further around his bowl, the cold pasta getting more bearable with each bite as long as it keeps his mouth busy. He’s just finishing the last of the noodles when Jason breaks their silence for the second time. 

“How’s dear old dad?” 

His head snapping back, Tim grimaces, setting the bowl down next to his empty glass. He forces himself to relax and face Jason. As he leans his good side against the base of the couch, his shoulders slump under what feels like the weight of the world. “Fine.” Jason raises an eyebrow, and Tim sighs. “He benched me,” he says shortly. 

Jason whistles, crossing his arms and resting his ankle against his knee. Tim can feel the nonchalance of Jason’s presence calm him down slightly, and takes a breath.

“Tough break, kid. How long is he cockblocking you?”

Tim’s nose wrinkles and he leans away from Jason slightly. “Why are you like this?”

Smirking, Jason says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m a fucking delight.”

“Whatever you wanna believe, I guess,” Tim snarks back, a hint of a smile pulling at his mouth.

“That’s all you got, rookie?” 

“Well, I’m not exactly on my A-game.”

Jason shrugs. “Sucks to suck.”

Tim scoffs and rests his elbow on the couch cushion next to him to hold his head up. God, he really is getting tired but he feels too exposed, too vulnerable on the floor of Jason Todd’s apartment. The blood loss must be getting to his head because he finds himself blurting, “You know, I didn’t think I was gonna make it out of that warehouse last night.”

Jason doesn’t say anything, just watches Tim warily. 

Tim looks down at his hand, the bruised knuckles throbbing from the burning stare. “It seemed fitting, when I was…there…that I met a similar end to the Robin I’d idolized more than any other. Real poetic irony, huh?”

He sees Jason shift out of the corner of his eye and shuts his mouth abruptly, wishing he’d never said anything in the first place. Jason is still watching him, but it feels like a more analytical stare than judgement. 

“I always saw you as my replacement, Bruce’s do-over,” Jason starts slowly. “But you were really just a kid. A kid who needed a purpose.”

And a family hangs in the air, unsaid but heavily present nonetheless.

Jason is quick to move on, saying, “You really idolized me? Some kid from the streets of Crime Alley?” The incredulous note in his voice makes Tim laugh in surprise.

“Robin was my hero—you were my hero.” Tim grins. “I would sneak out to follow you every night I could to take photos. Yeah, sure, Batman was there and he was cool: the man, the myth, the legend, and all that. But Robin? No one really believed the rumors about a younger Robin. But I knew you were out and kicking ass. So I set out to get the clearest shot I could.” Tim’s grin grows softer and more wistful. “It felt like I was a part of something, a part of a secret, even if you guys didn’t know I was. I felt like I…” (like I belonged).

He trailed off, and he could see Jason sit back further into the cushions in slight disbelief.

“You mean you risked your skinny ass every night to see me in my scalies?”

Tim barked out a laugh, dropping his arm to swipe the air. “No—well, I mean, I guess?” He shakes his head, chuckling nervously. “Your fashion sense wasn’t exactly the draw for me,” he finishes dryly. 

“Hey, you had the right idea when you took up the pixie boots,” Jason says with a finger pointed at Tim. Tim’s face contorts in confusion, not seeing where this is going. “You put on some goddamn pants.”

Clearing his throat, Jason stands from the couch and leans down to grab the empty bowl and glass from beside Tim. He gives Tim’s thigh a little kick as he passes. “You can sit on the couch, loser.”

The kick jars Tim into sliding up to curl slightly into the corner of the couch, reflecting on the heart-to-heart he just had with the Red fucking Hood. 

Before Tim can fully process the meltdown he’s currently having, he hears Jason turn off the water in the kitchen and head back to the couch. Tim hears him mutter, “His fucking hero,” but Jason cuts off whatever else he was going to say.

Jason is just plopping back down on the couch beside Tim when the door bursts open, and Jason’s gun is aimed at the doorway in a blink.

Steph stands frozen in the doorway, a six-pack of Coke dangling from one hand and two pizza boxes balanced on the other, a book sliding precariously down the top of the boxes. A moment passes where none of them move.

Then Steph waltzes in as if she’d never paused and Jason puts his gun away with a string of curses.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Blondie?”

Steph drops the boxes on the kitchen counter, turning back to look at Jason with an offended scoff. “It’s Book Night, jackass.”

Tim looks between Steph, standing with her hands on her hips, and Jason running a hand down his face. He hears a muffled, “Right, fuck,” escape through Jason’s fingers.

Turning back to the pizza, Steph calls out, “I’m not sharing my pizza with Tim, so I hope you learned your kindergarten manners, Bucket Boy.”

Tim shrugs at Jason’s exasperation, trying to hide a smile. “I hope you got the good toppings.”

“He didn’t.” Steph hands a box of pizza to Jason, who immediately shoves half a slice into his mouth. She scrunches her nose and walks to grab the second pizza box from the counter.

As she’s settling down next to the coffee table, pizza box within reaching distance, Steph subtly looks Tim over. She realizes that Tim noticed her looking, so she shoots him a wink with a small side smile before telling Jason, “Is it possible to drown in pizza? Because I think you’re trying to, and succeeding.”

Jason rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stop until the slice is gone. Once he’s swallowed, he says, “Oh, look. I’m alive. Again.”

Steph snorts. “Yeah, unlike Jacques Saunière.”

Jason sobers, scowling. “That guy died honorably, yeah, but God why did he have to leave it as a code? He couldn’t have just left a note?”

“It’s called The Da Vinci Code, not The Da Vinci Note, Jay,” Steph retorts.

“Discount Riddler, that’s what he is,” Jason grumbles. 

Tim laughs, and Steph nudges her pizza box closer to him with a wink.

He grabs a slice of her pizza—finally, some good fucking food—and sits while they argue over their differing interpretations of a fictional crime scene instead of questioning every move he makes, unlike at the manor.

Tim’s muscles relax, and he lets himself laugh at the outrageous comment Steph makes and Jason’s exaggerated groans as he eats his ridiculously greasy pizza. 

“The code is NOT his booty call’s number, Steph!”

Steph’s cackle rings through Tim’s ears and he chuckles.

Yeah, he belongs. Took him a few years, but he’s made it.

[whetstonefires]

Okay, it’s been about a year but here is the second-to-last of the fics I signed up to write for the go-fund-cee drive! For @jes-cher, who has been lovely and understanding about my choice paralysis bullshit.

I’ll be posting a shorter, darker Jason-focused one later, as apology for slow. Ten months of beating my head against my first idea for this prompt before it occurred to me I could just. Write something else. It doesn’t matter if it’s a great idea if it’s clearly not getting written! 😌 Rip.

(Anon who’s the only one left, please feel free to contact me with a new prompt if you’re no longer interested in your original request after this amount of time, or have justifiably lost faith in my ability to execute it, as I chronicled my battle with Lobdell’s writing style, and would prefer I give you 10,000 words of something else. I’ll still post what I have written for that prompt already!)

-&-

Gotham wasn’t actually that bad a city. Steph had actually lived in a few different ones now, and visited lots, and for all the crap her hometown got, it stood up pretty well. The architecture was nice; good balance of eras, a unified aesthetic with a lot of variety to keep it interesting.

The street system wasn’t ideal, especially in the old parts of town, but they didn’t have any of the traffic nightmares of New York or, really, most of the rest of the metro belt. Only Metropolis did a better job at avoiding gridlock.

Public transit was robust and reached most of the city, and while the buses weren’t wonderful they weren’t bad. Sometimes they were even on time. The libraries and schools were all pretty well funded, because the Wayne Foundation made up the tax shortfall in districts with below average income. The street lights usually worked, and the cops were a lot more chill than most places unless they thought you were a supervillain, in which case they still probably wouldn’t shoot you, even if maybe they probably should.

The supervillain problem was worse than average, she could admit that, but crime as a whole actually wasn’t. Air pollution had been really bad forty years ago, and the river still wasn’t anywhere you’d like to swim, but that was true of a lot of places, and their reputations didn’t linger like this. She’d been to Paris! Gotham sanitation workers were about 400% more successful, and they kept working through frankly ludicrous conditions! Possibly they were paid really well, she didn’t know.

The weather, though. She’d give the world that one. Gotham’s weather was consistently terrible, awful, no-good, and deserved everything anyone had ever said about it.

Which made it actually really weird that their supervillain problem featured someone with a plant theme.

“Move somewhere tropical, Eisley!” she groused, as she swung to the next roof, careful of her footing. “Cultivate jungles! Save the planet! Stop making us come out in the freezing rain to deal with your unseasonable bullshit.”

She paused for a second on her last rooftop perch, both to gather herself and in case Ivy took the cue. She often did. Supervillains in general seemed to have a hard time resisting a straight line—which Steph could relate to, honestly. And she’d caught Batman holding back his entrance for the most ironic dramatic moment before, so it wasn’t just a villain thing.

No villain attack, which was good, because Steph was on her own out here. This was hopefully just a scouting mission. Probably Poison Ivy wasn’t even here.

This afternoon, just after lunch, as Steph was getting off work, every park in the city had suddenly erupted with enormous…growths. They were tree-shaped, thirty feet high with little crinkled green leaf things at the top, but from what inspection had been done so far seemed more like fungus than anything. The spreading limbs had a weird rubbery texture.

Steph was calling them Doom Broccolis.

Whatever they were, they were suspicious as heck, and in response to their appearance Batman had immediately rallied the troops. Which had quickly led to the discovery that Red Robin was missing, and had been for at least eleven hours. He’d never checked in last night.

The troops had promptly been rallied even more urgently, and dispersed across the city to its various infested green spaces.

So Steph’s mission, like everyone’s, was twofold—see if she could learn anything about Ivy’s scheme in time to foil it, and search for any sign of Tim. If they were lucky, he’d just dropped out of contact voluntarily for unrelated reasons and could be yelled at later. If not… Well. If not, he needed them.

She’d been telling herself all the way here that she appreciated that Duke and Damian were the ones who’d been sent out with each other as backup, that she was respected and trusted to operate solo and that was a good thing. The practical side of her would really prefer backup please, and the insecure one kept murmuring that maybe what it really proved was Batman cared less if she died.

Batgirl gave herself a little shake. Shut up, little voice, she told it, and mentally squashed the slug of it under her heel. She adjusted her gas mask to make sure the seal was tight. Time to get her reconnoiter on.

And hopefully not have to fight the most powerful metahuman in Gotham by herself on unfavorable terrain, in the freezing rain. That would be really great.

There was almost no sound as she crept through the nasty rubbery grove that had erupted in the long narrow triangle that was Hyde Park.

The broccolis themselves were silent, not even creaking or rustling in the occasional gusts that drove the freezing rain at an angle, and city traffic and all the sounds of people were hushed on a day like today, between the weather and the large-scale supervillain incident. Everyone who could be was either out of town or at home, stuffing newspaper into any cracks in case of spores.

After an unenlightening loop around about half the perimeter, Steph was forced to drop to ground level and forge her way into enemy territory. The doom broccolis had avoided uprooting any existing trees or large shrubs, which meant the spacing was slightly uneven and in some places there was no easy way through on foot, but for the most part they were far enough apart to leave plenty of corridors of sky for Steph to stay out under—cover from line of sight wasn’t worth putting herself directly below the things, if she could help it.

Fairly quickly, she noticed something that had not been in the photos from the main infestation in Robinson Park, forty minutes ago.

She clicked her comm on. “Hey,” she murmured just above the subvocal range, for the throat mic. She’d mostly gotten the knack of subvocalizing rather than whispering, which didn’t engage the vocal cords and which the microphone pasted to her neck therefore didn’t pick up well. “Is anybody else seeing…fruit? On the broccolis?”

There was a second of dead air, and then Red Hood said, with a grimace you could hear, “yeah. Like…huge brown cherries, on a couple of ‘em.”

“The ones here are more or less mushroom colored,” reported Signal from Finger Park. “But kind of like cherries, yeah.”

“Don’t touch them,” warned Batman, with the condescending Dad-instinct need to tell everyone things they already knew. Steph was in the middle of rolling her eyes when she rounded another broccoli and froze dead.

“Holy crap.” The broccoli mushroom tree at the middle of Hyde Park was bearing fruit that wasn’t shaped like cherries at all. Batgirl’s first thought had been holy shit it’s people, but then she’d taken her second look, and now it was worse. “Team,” she said, trying to keep her voice professional, “I… think I found Red Robin.”

Because dangling from the central broccoli, by dark hair that turned into green stems just before joining the bough, were seven still vaguely formless figures, torsos partially sheathed in giant green leaves like Ivy wore sometimes for modesty, and with arms and legs looking just barely stuck together. Like a partly melted wax figure, or dragon fruit that wasn’t quite ripe. The fingers and toes were mostly fused, and greenish at the tips. The faces were kind of melty too, hopefully enough so that they wouldn’t be a sure match against a photo to a stranger, but not so much that Steph couldn’t instantly recognize the lines of one of the faces she knew best in the world.

There were seven under-ripe Tim Drakes growing from a broccoli tree.

A clamor of demands for clarification was starting in her comm, and she crept forward as she waited for Batman and Oracle to quiet them all down. There was a bulge halfway up the meaty-looking trunk. “I said ‘think,’” she murmured, studying the nearest Tim-fruit for signs it was actually the real one, “because this broccoli—”

Something slammed into her from the side before she could say any more, heavy and cold and leaving her head ringing and her stupid gas mask flying away, and the combination of experience and instinct only barely let her leap and handspring with the blow, just fast enough to avoid the grasp of the thing that had struck her.

Her boots and glove almost skidded in the freezing-rain-on-grass and left her wiping out, but the jagged rubber treads she’d selected specifically for moments like this saved the day.

Steph made a three-point landing and stared up at Poison Ivy, standing looking thunderous on the top of a huge coil of some sort of vine, several more of them lashing around her like octopus arms. Steph couldn’t even tell which one had hit her.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit, Steph thought, and grinned.

“Gotta try harder than that, Pam!”

No one was talking in her ear. The ear she’d been smacked in. She reached up to check. Yeah, the comm had had it.

She couldn’t be sure about the throat mic—the stick-on patch it was under was still in place but she was pretty sure it got most if not all of its broadcast strength from the earbud unit, so it probably wasn’t transmitting to the others anymore but it might be. She’d keep that in mind to a) pass info just in case and b) try not to embarrass herself, in case there was a silent audience.

Ivy didn’t go straight for the kill, so Steph took the time to readjust her stance into a slightly more upright, flexible posture that kept both her hands free, though she didn’t bother to straighten her cape, which had gotten flipped forward over her right shoulder while she was flipping around.

“You’re planting dude-trees now, Pam?” She and Ivy absolutely weren’t on close enough terms to use first names, even if the meta lady had currently been on the upswing and working with the Birds of Prey again, instead of on a sharp down and terrorizing the city. “What, real guys not listening to you anymore?”

“Human beings are disgusting resource sinks,” Ivy said, in a tone of abstracted disgust that didn’t omen well for her losing her head and making a mistake. “Especially men. I’ve always been working on alternatives. Sadly,” she gave a shallow sigh, inspecting her nails, “the ones I’ve developed have always been…limited.”

Steph nodded sagely. “The veggieburger problem,” she agreed. “Hard to get a plant to do the job of meat.”

Ivy glared. Hah. That one got her. “My new varietal,” she snapped, “will overcome that problem. Each specimen engulfs and consumes one large mammal, and produces fruits that mimic the full intelligence and abilities of the prey sample, in a vegetable form completely loyal to me.”

Steph gaped, because one, that was the most terrifying thing Ivy had done in years, and two, consumes was a very very alarming word in this context. “The Doom Broccolis are carnivorous?” she did not actually squeak. She really hoped her throat mic was still working. Even if it wasn’t, though, backup should be incoming.

Ivy rolled her eyes. “They are not even distantly related to broccoli. And yes, although the digestion process doesn’t really set in until the fruits ripen; the early experiments failed to reproduce cognitive function accurately, due to the breakdown of key tissues.”

Whew. So Tim had…at least a little time left, probably. Steph looked uneasily around the grove of horrible flesh fungus. “I don’t see any loyal broccoli people,” she said. Maybe they were off guarding the other parks?

Ivy scowled. “Of course not. The early cultivars weren’t large enough for human trials, obviously.”

…so there were loyal vegetable guinea pigs or something. Sometimes it was easy to forget Ivy had once been an actual lab scientist.

“So wait, you haven’t actually done a person before and you start with—him?” Steph caught herself at the last second; she didn’t know which identity Tim had been caught in.

“Why not? Red Robin is an excellent specimen. Good balance of strength, strategy, and unlike Batman actually takes direction.” Ivy made a sour face, like her inability to control any version of Batman for long was a thorn in her side.

“Is that what you think,” said Steph, who had had the experience of trying to control Tim Drake. He did try to be accommodating, about most things, usually, and he did take direction better than Batman, for what that was worth, but in the end he’d always go off and do whatever he thought best, no matter what, and possibly let you yell at him about it later.

If anyone could take stock of his preconceived values and identity issues and think his way into a twisty workaround for inbuilt loyalty programming in order to fuck over his creator, she’d bet it would be a perfect copy of Tim.

“Also I caught him skulking around my newest greenhouses,” Ivy shrugged. “Waste not, want not. Recycling is good for the Earth.”

Haha, Ivy had just called Tim garbage. Harsh. But as interesting as it would be to see if the veggie-Tims actually did go rogue, them waking up would mean Tim was now actively dying if not already dead. So no. Not that funny.

Steph caught the enemy’s eyes shuttling subtly toward the central broccoli with its heavy burden of fruit. Aha. Just as she had suspected. (As of like…six seconds ago.)

Poison Ivy had been keeping Batgirl talking, buying time for her Tims to ripen.

Steph appreciated the compliment of putting off the fight rather than counting on being able to end it quickly, but she’d been buying time, too. And unlike Ivy, she was done shopping.

Her Batgirl cape wasn’t nearly as wide cut as her Spoiler cloak had been, not as good for hiding things in, but she’d contrived to use its cover to take out and arm nine individual exploding batarangs while they talked. That was more than she carried normally, or even would be allowed to carry normally, but when you were fighting evil trees more ordinance tended to be called-for, and Batman had issued a supply.

Without wasting time, she started throwing. Her aim had never been especially exact, something Damian liked to give her a hard time about, but here all she had to hit was ‘an entire tree.’ No fiddly precision targets today. She had to aim for the ones not showing fruit or trunk bulges, which she was going to have to trust didn’t have people inside, rather than having just recently acquired very tiny people—this seemed like a safe bet since Ivy tended to be soft on kids.

Not enough to stop periodically trying to destroy humanity for their sake, but enough that it was hard to imagine her hurting one face to face.

“No!” Ivy shouted. She got points for not leaping toward the blinking explosives to try to stop them, sending vines striking like snakes instead, but she was too busy doing that to get away from the bomb that had landed only about five feet away from her.

The blast blew her off her feet, and clear off her pedestal of green. She’d managed to remotely yank two of the batarangs out before they went off, saving those doom fungi, but Steph wasn’t worried about that; she’d successfully set the supervillain up for the kind of fatal misjudgment in defense of plants Batman always said was the surest way to beat her, and now she charged in to make the most of it.

She got there in plenty of time to really put her weight behind a punch hammering down into Ivy’s face, then kicked her in the chest, heel driving in just below the collarbone. Ivy gave a very human uph and pained expression, though she didn’t fall, and Steph went for another kick, this one more carefully aimed.

This was a mistake. One green-tinted hand came up and closed around her ankle like a Venus flytrap made of carbon steel, and in one sharp uncoiling move Eisley rose to her feet and with a twist of her whole torso flung Steph head over heels across the grove.

She realized somewhere between getting thrown and suppressing the urge to vomit as she gyroed upside-down that she’d been thrown straight for one of the remaining undamaged, unfruiting tree-things. Could see the surface getting sort of…gelatinous in preparation for her impact, which was so many flavors of no.

Her hands didn’t fumble at her belt, courtesy of many hours of drills and live practice, even as instinct screamed for rush and now now now.

Her grapple caught in one of the spreading ‘boughs’ at the top of another broccoli, and she tugged the line to send herself swinging out on a long arc just short of making contact with the fungus that wanted to eat her.

She peppered the air in front of her with ordinary, nonexplosive Batarangs as she came back around on the end of the wire—Ivy smacked these casually aside, but it made enough of a distraction that Pam didn’t notice in time the moment when Steph got her backup grapple into a different tree, and accelerated.

Going for a kick would have been the smart, safe option, but Steph was rarely smart and almost never safe, so instead of slamming her full body weight heel-first into the supervillain and hoping it stuck this time, she grabbed with the full strength of endless thigh workouts and dragged Ivy clear off her feet.

Ivy’s plants were protective, but they tended to rely heavily on her for targeting anything that wasn’t right in front of them, so keeping her disoriented was a good idea if you could manage it. It said so in her file. So this part, the grabbing, had been an actual plan, even if one it had taken about two seconds to make, and even if ‘hit the supervillain essentially with your crotch’ was probably a combat recommendation no one would make ever.

The next part was sheer impulse, based on how much easier Ivy was to move than expected—maybe her punch resistance wasn’t so much physical density as some sort of supernatural rootedness, and if you could get her off the ground it stopped working?

Steph released the retraction mechanism on her secondary grapple and let it start paying out again, an instant before she hit the max-strength retract button on her original grapple, the one that was still in her other hand, and gripping a bough halfway across the grove.

Her right shoulder screamed, but Ivy let out a startled choking sound as their trajectory wrenched around out of the arc Steph had been carrying her into headfirst, and shot the other way. Which meant she was still discombobulated, which meant Steph still had the upper hand, shoulder or no.

Steph picked the right moment as they went rocketing back, and let go. Momentum kept Ivy flying, and none of her plants reacted to catch her in midair before she landed. Right on target.

Ivy sank headfirst into her own carnivorous fungus tree, in the gelatinous patch where she’d tried to throw Steph. Her legs kicked once, and then fell still. “See how you like it!” Steph shouted, which was perhaps not the wittiest repartee ever, but she didn’t care.

She landed, staggering a little because her shoulder might be dislocated a little bit and was definitely killing her. And normally she wouldn’t turn her back on a villain just because she’d gotten one good hit and they hadn’t immediately gotten up again, but what she’d been fighting for this whole time was time, because the window of opportunity to stop Tim Drake-Wayne from being reduced to protein goo and the pattern for a bunch of veggie-copies was closing fast. This wasn’t a defeat-top-rank-supervillain-solo mission, this was a rescue mission.

She pelted back toward the relevant tree, holding up the elbow of her bad arm with the opposite hand against the jolt. How to get him out? With two good arms she could have climbed or grappled up to the level of the bulge that represented the broccoli’s prey and started cutting, but it would be hard to get good leverage. Was there a better option?

One of the Tim-fruits twitched on its stem. Fuck it.

Steph recalled the grapple-end of her holdout gun from where it had been since she use it to get the drop on Ivy, fired it into the gummy-looking limbs of the Tim tree, and hauled herself up. She needed to start carrying a better cutting implement than a Batarang, how did Midnight Boy Scout not mandate that already, but for now she gripped one swoopy sharp black wing awkwardly in her gauntleted left hand, braced toes and knees against the nasty cool-flesh stem, and put all the strength her bad arm had into cutting through the tough husk.

It wouldn’t cut.

More of the Tims were starting to move. Their copy nervous systems booting up or whatever.

The whole tree seemed like it was twitching, and then she realized it was, or rather just the lump under her feet was, and she pulled back her Batarang just in time for something thin and yellow to burst out through the surface of the Doom Broccoli, and disappear, leaving an almost invisibly thin slash that dribbled a transparent greenish fluid that reminded Steph of aloe vera gel but smelled more like old mango and artichoke.

The rubbery husk was being sliced up from the soft, inner side with the hawks-head emblem that belonged in the middle of Red Robin’s chest, which wouldn’t you know was a holdout throwing star thing after all, just like his R used to be. She should’ve known.

Talk about impractical shapes for a knife.

“Keep going, you’ve almost got this.”

Whether he heard her or not, he went on thrashing and slashing, and Steph with her Batarang tore as best she could with her bad arm at the shreds between cuts, trying to get them to snap and let all the thin slashes add up to one hole large enough to escape through.

The Tim-fruits were still twitching. Would they fall to the ground and then peel their limbs free like they were breaking out of husks, and get up and start walking around? Or would they need to get all the way to looking like functioning humans before detaching from the stems?

A whole arm burst out in a rush of goo. They were going to make it.

The fingers of the nearest fruit came unstuck, one by one, curling around air the way Tim curled his around a staff.

And then he was out, headfirst and gooey.

“Man, Ex-Boyfriend Wonder,” Steph sighed, as she let him grab onto her and lowered them on a slowly paying-out jumpline, helping him reach the ground with slightly more dignity than clawing his way down the slime-encrusted ruptured stem of his prison would have allowed, assuming he hadn’t just landed face-first and died. “Why’d you have to go breaking yourself loose at the last second like that? I was supposed to be the hero!”

“Believe me, you—pbbbft—were,” Tim answered, pausing partway to spit out a mouthful of sap-gel that he must somehow have been breathing in there. “I’d never have even managed to wake up if you hadn’t turned up to distract Ivy and make such a racket. I could feel her speeding it up, toughening up the…things, pushing.” The shiver was understated enough Steph might not have noticed it if he hadn’t been clinging to her waist. She eyed the Tim fruits. They’d stopped moving. Good?

Feet on the ground, Tim brushed fruitlessly at the slime all over his costume, then obviously gave it up as a bad job. “Where is she?” he asked, looking around.

“Over there.” Steph landed too, and pointed to where Ivy was still embedded head-first in a broccoli.

She’d disappeared up to the waist, and didn’t seem to be making any effort to get out. In fact, as they watched she seemed to sink in another centimeter.

“Okay, that’s a bit better than a distraction,” Tim acknowledged. “But also I don’t think we should let her finish. I don’t want to fight a dozen vegetable Poison Ivys.”

“Don’t like to eat your vegetables?” Steph teased, even as she sized up the situation—should they pull Ivy out, probably the faster option but then they’d probably have to fight her some more right away, or try cutting down the Doom Broccoli with her still in it, more thorough?

“Yeah actually I’m not going to be able to look any cabbage varietals in the face for the next six months,” said Tim, apparently agreeing they were broccoli regardless of their creator’s opinion and the mango smell, “but come on. It’s never good when villains start to spawn. Chiraxes was bad enough.”

“Blegh,” Steph admitted. The duplicate Drury Walkers had at least had a super short lifespan and been self-disposing. “Okay, I’m all out of bombs. You?” Probably a dumb question, given all his storage space had been confiscated.

“Ivy took my belt and everything in my bandoliers,” Red Robin admitted, touching the cape closure thing at the top of them, where he’d shoved his little sigil-thing back into place in spite of all the goo. His stupid little gimmicks would be easier to make fun of if they worked out less often, lucky stiff.

“But she left that.” Because Tim had all the luck when it came to details like that. “And your mask?” Not that Ivy had ever cared much about things like the Bats’ secret identities.

He shrugged. “I guess she didn’t expect it to be relevant long.” Anything she wanted to know from or about him, the copies could have told her, soon enough. And he wouldn’t have mattered, once he was dead.

This had been another close one; Steph got those feelings out with a little shiver of her own. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s do something about Ivy. Everybody else should be here soon.”

“Backup,” Tim sighed, pushing his hair back from his face and having it stick that way, messily moussed with doom fungus glop. “I love having backup.”

“Sure didn’t act like it back in the day.”

“I am an older and wiser man now. Who values being alive and made of the original meat products.”

Steph stole a glance over her shoulder at the Tim tree. “…I’m really glad those things aren’t waking up.”

“Me too. Think of the ethical implications.”

Steph side-eyed him, not sure whether that was intentional humor or not, then decided it didn’t matter and elbowed him in the ribs anyway. She immediately broke into a run to avoid any counter-attacks, bad arm carefully supported once again. “Race you to the supervillain!”

[kneesheee]

Little Devil

Warnings: references to torture. references to murder. mentions of death. canon typical fighting.

|eight|

Damian didn’t know how to feel. It felt like millennia since he stepped foot in Nanda Parbat. Even though he knew that it was temporary. He knew that it wouldn’t last. He knew it was only for a moment.

It still felt like home.

He watches silently as the mountains call for him. His mother. His cousin. His sister. His… his brother. He sees how Queen and Lance seem to relax. Yes, Nanda Parbat. A place of healing and enlightenment. And yet, its shadows are coated with enough blood to fill the red sea.

His mother stands before them as she looks upon their home. His brother and cousin flanked her sides. They looked like the perfect warriors that they were born to be. His mother turns her head to glance back at him. He suddenly feels wrong. He had been raised to be the one by his father’s side as his partner. It was his destiny. His heritage to take over the mantle in the future. And yet, here he stood as Robin and he felt wrong.

She smiles at him knowingly, and suddenly, he’s unpinning the Robin emblem. His pulls his sword from underneath the seats of the Bat plane. He tugs his hood over his head. It isn’t much, yet he feels more like himself than he has in long time.

His eyes glow in a way they haven’t since his birth.

He stops denying who he truly was.

Robin. Heir to the Demon. Son of the Bat. The Demonic Prince. A Dark Knight. An Al Ghul. A Wayne.

Damian.

--

Athanasia watched quietly from the rafters as The Forgotten One’s guards patrolled the cell areas. She had received word earlier that her mother was planning to a raid. Right now, she had to help her mother’s most trusted escape from the cells that her aunt through them in. Lady Shiva. Lord Ubu. Lord Wilson and his daughter Rose. Lord Lawson was also here.

She dropped from the rafters in the middle of guard change and quickly pick the lock to Lady Shiva’s cell. When the next guard came, Lady Shiva was already moving to take her down as Athanasia moved on to free the others.

She bowed deeply as she apologized, “I will like to formally apologize on my mother’s behalf for the offense my aunt has dolt out. This should have never happened, and she will pay dearly for her crimes.”

A small smirk pulled at Sandra’s lips as she waved away the apology, “Thank you, Athanasia. Your manners are impeccable as always.”

Mr. Lawson leaned against the wall, “Where is your mother anyway? How did Nyssa get the drop on her to be able to do all of this?”

She sighed deeply. Troubled. “Mother had been compromised and needed to be sent away for her safety. These past two months have been troubling, but all is well now. She had her a few days of recovery and she’s on her way here to take back what it rightfully hers.”

Lord Wilson chuckled a little bitterly, “Good ole Talia. Can always count on her to come.”

Athanasia tilted her head to the side before she turned away, “Yes, Mother will do anything to make sure Grandfather’s legacy doesn’t end up in Aunt Nyssa’s hand. She also quite determined to make sure my brothers and I don’t end up in her hands. Otherwise, who knows what could happened. Mother would do anything for her children.”

Lady Shiva stood tall. Her back ramrod straight as she gazed upon her, “She didn’t have you bust us free just to stand around. What’s the plan?”

When she turned back to look at them, her eyes were glowing green.

--

To Jamila, the world was tinted green. She felt at peace. She felt like herself. She was home. A place she has spent many years running from. From where there hiding in the forbidden mountains, she could almost see the area where she dumped her grandfather’s body after she had killed.

A small shudder ran through. She could still feel his blood on her hands. She can still the see the way the light fades away in his eyes. She hears Lazarus roar in her head. She feels how his body slackens. She sees how proud he is. It’s like being under water and just barely hearing his words as realizations crashes down upon her.

You are the Demon Head.

A manicured hand lays gently on her face. She comes back to herself. She’s no longer staring into aging face of her grandfather. Her aunt is staring at her in concern. Again, as she had many times before, she wishes the woman before her was her mother.

“Are you with us, my love,” her aunt’s voice soothes. She gives herself a mental shake. She could deal with her emotions and the ghosts of her past later. Right now, she has a mission to complete. And the mission comes first.

She nods her head once before she is once again turning away. She stares at the compound in which she was raised.

You are the Demon Head.

No. She wasn’t. She wasn’t the demon head. She wasn’t the demon head’s heiress.

She was the Death Demon. She was the Demon of Death. She was an Al Ghul. She was a Wilson. She was Nyssa Raatko’s daughter. She was Slade Wilson’s daughter. She was Talia Al Ghul’s niece. She was Damian and Anthanasia’s cousin. She was Jason’s cousin. She was Ra Al Ghul’s granddaughter.

She was the League’s hope.

Huh. Maybe she is the demon’s head.

She was Jamila Al Ghul.

It was time her mother learned that.

--

Jason didn’t know how to feel. He hadn’t stepped foot here in a long while. But now?

He could hear the mountains call for him. Standing beside Talia and he felt like a fifteen-year-old boy again just finding out that he died and came back to life. Finding out that his father let his killer roam free. Replaced him.

It was almost enough to spark an aged old bitterness in him. He steps away as Talia comforts Jamila as she deals with her own ghost of this place. Nanda Pardat, a place of healing and enlightenment. He inwardly snorted. This place only picked at old wounds that he thought that time had close.

His team move to his side and feel the burning heat as Kori’s hairbrushes against him. It didn’t bother him. He had been stoned cold dead on the inside for years. If anything, it reminded him that he had much to live for.

He squeezes Kyle’s hand when it slips into his. After this, he should do better by this man. He seems determined to stick around him no matter how hard he pushes him away. Roy catches his eyes and nods at his best friend. He flashes a small smile at Artemis and something warm fills him as she scoffs lightly but he knows he’s not imagining the smile on her face. He pats Bizarro on the shoulder instead of going for a hug.

He squeezes Kyle’s hand one more time before walking back over to Talia and Jamila. His cousin looks like she dealt with her own ghost. His flaming daggers are pricking at his skin.

“Everything ready, T,” he questions as soon as he nears. The two women turn to look at him. Their piercing green eyes run over his form before his aunt gives a sharp nod. She gestured everyone else over.

“Yes, everything should be in place by now. We’re just waiting for---”

The southeast corners (the forbidden quarters if he’s remembering correctly) blow up in a cloud of smoke. Jamila’s laugh rings loud into the night.

“That. We’re waiting on that.”

Damian is staring at his mother with wide eyes, “Mother, weren’t those Aunt Nyssa’s quarters.”

Jamila’s laughter makes much more sense. Talia waves his words away, “It matters not. I’ve been meaning to redecorate. Come now. This way. We’ll be moving through the secret corridor in Father’s old quarters. I thought that it’d come in handy one day and I was right.”

Jason spared a small glance back at his comrades, “Let’s go.”

They were smart enough to know not to mention his gleaming red eyes.

--

It was surprisingly easy to get throw the compound filled to the brim with rogue soldiers. Talia can admit that. Though she was greatly appalled that these were the warriors that her sister assigned for her own protection? She honestly feltlike she was in one of the martial arts classes’ that Jason used to drag her to. The ones were the martial arts teacher obviously had no idea what they were doing. Black belts? More like on the brim of blue and purple.

Hardly good enough to stop her.

Jamila’s already pulling a hidden tablet from the floorboards right outside of Father’s offices. She hands the device over to Talia and her fingers fly over the keyboard as she shuts down the system.

Feet are running in their direction and Jamila’s flickering her guns out. Her ponytails bounce as she stalks into the hallway. Her Beloved moves to follow her. Probably to stop her from killing like the rest of his brood have done since they’ve entered the building.

“I will not hesitate to put right through your dick, Batman,” Jamila growls without turning around. “Back off.”

And then she gone around the corner. The sound of gunshots and metal hitting flesh is heard. Laughter so dark and ugly. Screams of pain.

Talia is searching the security systems and cameras trying to pinpoint Nyssa’s location. Trying to make sure she doesn’t have her daughter.

“Please. Please. Don’t kill me. Let me go. PLEAS---”

Pointed silence met Jamila as she walked back into the room. She scoffed lightly, “There still alive.” Only Talia heard the for now in the air.

Standing back to full height, she turned towards them. Her gaze was still on the tablet in her hands. “She’s recalling all of her men to her. She will no doubt have my nephew at her side. We will cross through Jason’s quarters and then take the long way around through Damian’s old quarters then make our way into the throne room. I’ll send off word for our inside team to meet us at the crossways between mine and Jamila’s quarters.”

Talia paid no mind to whisper of Jason’s lover questioning the others of just how big the compound was. She’s already moving, and her strides doesn’t stop as she snatches one of these lowlifes’ thugs’ guns off the ground as she heads towards her sister.

Its time to end this.

Maybe she’ll plunge her into a Lazarus pit over and over and over again until the only thing she knows is pain and angry and green. So much green.

She’s moving on autopilot as she takes down any assailant coming her way. A part of her that stills there keeps from killing them at that moment. If they just so happen to die from their wounds, well what’s one less worthless piece of trash in the grand scheme of themes.

She’s tossing some man the size of Ubu over her shoulder. Her heels click as she continues down the hall. Jason and Jamila jump out in front of her and take down more men. Damian is spinning through the air as his sword twirls alongside him.

Her stride never breaks.

They were almost to Jason’s quarters. She didn’t even blink when a glowing green starblast hit someone square in the chest. She casually stepped of the way of a glowing green hand pulling men up from the floor.

She nodded her head at the Amazon as she swung her battle ax through the air. She accepted the hand from the clone as he flew her over some women looking like pincushions from various arrows.

She’s fighting back to back with her beloved. It felt like old times before everything went to hell. Before the world turned green. Green with jealousy.  Green. Green. Green. She remembers Nyssa. Her sister. And it hurt so bad. The green. It hurt her.

She smashes some man’s head into the glass table.

Talia keeps on walking.

A scream pierces the air and a man close flying through the window.

They’re almost to the crossways.

She reloads her gun.

The barrel of her gun is pointed at a mask face. Jamila has one pressed against a wall with a knife pressed tightly to their throat. The green fades away as a hand clasps her shoulder. She blinks and she’s looking into an orange and black mask. Ubu is once again by her side. Jamila releases her sister.

She can’t see it, but she knows that Slade is smiling mockingly at her. Its out of character for her. At least to Bruce and the rest of his brood and allies. But she’s laughing and punching Slade on the shoulder lightly.

“The Princess is storming the castle,” he jokes lightly and she’s laughing again. “I have to protect the crown.”

He’s stepping out the way and gesturing down the hall, “Well don’t let me stop you.”

“You won’t.”

And then she’s turning towards her daughter. She hugs Anthanasia tightly and run her hand over her daughter’s face. She sees small wounds and bruises appearing on her skin. Anger lights up her entire being. Jamila is behind her placing her hand on either side of Anthansia’s face before turning her head side to side. She captures the girl into a hug.

Talia doesn’t look back to see the shock on her beloved’s face. Now is not time. She’s moving again and she doesn’t have to look back to know that Jamila and Ubu and Anthanasia and Jason have all blocked Bruce’s access to her. Sandra is at her side and she could feel amusement dripping off her friend.

They’re moving together again as they take down the last of the stranglers. Both flipping through the air wrapping their lips around their opponents’ necks.

Ubu pushes the doors to the throne room open forcefully. Its basically an army standing before. Talia holds up the tablet in her hands. She types in the code to the prison cells without looking knowing that all her agents were in there.

The exiled warriors’ part like the red sea. She sees her nephew first. Standing at the side of the throne like she did many years ago at her father’s side. He looked so dutiful. So, brainwashed by the ideals that were not his own. She will save him.

Green meets green.

“Hello, sister.”

[dcwnedrobin]

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s JASON TODD/RED HOOD, an ANTIHERO from DC! HE is TWENTY FOUR years old and look an awful lot like AVAN JOGIA. I hear that they work as a SORT OF MERCENARY. Rumor has it they were AGAINST the Accords and ARE NOT registered under the new laws. I wonder what they’ll find with their new beginning!

That gif is jason at all of his family tbh if you haven’t seen ghost wars avan basically has a jason mood and i’m loving it

hello this is my first jason attempt please bare with me !

Background ;;

Jason grew up in crime alley. His father was a criminal and was killed by one of Two-Face’s men, his mother was a drug addict who died of an overdose. Jason was left orphaned and alone as a child, and had to resort to crime to survive

He had the bright idea of trying to boost the batmobile’s wheels and unfortunately got caught by the Bat himself

Bats took him to a school being run by Ma Gunn in hopes he would be reformed but Jason uncovered the illegal activities going on there and escaped. When he was found again by Batman Jason explained was was going on, and helped Bruce take Ma Gunn in for her crimes

It was then, at age 12, that Jason was adopted by Bruce and made the next Robin

After 6 months of training he was able to go out into the field with Bruce, but as time went on it was obvious he was much more impulsive and reckless, borderline ruthless with the criminals they were dealing with. He struggled with the expectation to be like the first Robin, which just made him that much more determined to make his own way in the role

Jason’s anger and reckless ways eventually lead to the death of a criminal, for which he was grounded as Robin for a time. During this time he found out his biological mother was still alive, and not the woman he had known as a child, and set off to find her, tracking the clues to the middle east. At the same time, Bruce was tracking a trail to the Joker which lead to the same place, and they were able to stop a bombing set up by the Joker but didn’t catch the man himself

They continued on the trail to find Jason’s mother and, eventually, located her. It was all a ruse though, a trap set by Joker - he had blackmailed Jason’s mother and when Jason spotted him he followed Joker and his mother to a warehouse

In trying to save his mother Jason was captured, tied up, and brutally beaten with a crowbar by Joker, before a bomb was planted in the warehouse and Jason and his mother were left to die. Despite Jason’s attempts to untie her and find an escape, the bomb went off before they could do so, and both were killed before Bruce could arrive

Thanks to some reality-shifting, Jason was brought back to life while still in his coffin in the ground, forcing him to claw his way out of his own grave in order to survive his new resurrection, but collapsed and was hospitalised. After a year in a coma, Talia Al Ghul found him and intended to nurse him back to health

Unfortunately the damage was too extensive for Jason to fully return to the way he was, so in a last ditch attempt Talia immersed him in the Lazarus Pit, resurrecting him fully

Upon learning (from Talia) that his death has gone unavenged, Jason’s rage and trauma of his brutal murder drove him to learn and advance his skills in firearms and weapons, poisons and antitoxins, bomb making, and god knows what else so he can confront and kill Batman for letting his death go unavenged, and the new Robin for replacing him

Eventually Jason returned to Gotham with a new mantle - the Red Hood. He began taking control of criminal gangs and rising up in Gotham’s underworld, revealing himself to Bruce - who had no idea he was alive until that point - and generally just... letting his rage drive his decisions. He was a mess.

He’s come and gone to Gotham a number of times - Gotham is his home, he doesn’t want to and can’t let it go. He’s tried to kill Dick, Tim, and Bruce more than a few times in the early days. As time has gone on and Jason has learned to deal with his anger he’s come to terms with Bruce and the others - though he’s not sure he’ll ever feel like he’s part of the family anymore, seeing himself as more of the black sheep

During some of his stints away he’s pulled together the “Outlaws” - first with Roy and Koriand’r, then with Bizzaro and Artemis, usually working towards unravelling some kind of underground criminal group or plot. Ultimately everything leads him back to Gotham though, one way or another.

Look i left a lot of specific stuff out of this because Jason’s got a long history so please feel free to hit me up for any specific backstory stuff !

Good/Important To Know ;;

Jason uses guns. A lot of guns. He has no problem with guns. Always has two handguns with him, and also has a sword as part of his standard attire at the moment

He’s currently sporting the new Red Hood look and has the grey streak up front in his hair because of the Lazarus Pit

He has a much more brutal version of justice, he’s definitely not below killing criminals who deserve it. He tries not to kill when Bruce is around, and doesn’t kill in Gotham on Bruce’s request - his attempt at an olive branch, really. Otherwise? As far as Jason’s concerned criminals who hurt innocent people are fair game

In terms of where he is with the family - it’s been a few years (since Tim was Robin, probably think around when Bruce died and Dick took over with Damian as Robin) since Jason was trying to kill the family. He’s come to terms with things - not necessarily forgiven everything, but he’s okay with Bruce and the others now. In saying that he’s aware that most of the Batkids don’t like him or approve of how he operates - he will avoid them wherever possible purely just because he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with that

Jason has a dog - she’s a very protective dog Jason took in and he calls her Dog. He figures it’s as good a name as any. He loves her a lot though.

Jason is ridiculously rich - he’s done a decent amount of time as a Merc and is currently working as one now so he works for a lot of money. He doesn’t splash out the way Bruce and the family do but he has plenty of money stashed away.

There’s still a lot of anger built up inside Jason - but he’s learned to deal with it. He’s much more pragmatic and logical now, but in a fight you’ll see his brutality come out

He’s very sassy and sarcastic, very walled off and it takes a bit to let anyone in. Even with people he’s close with, there’s always a sense of armour - but those are the people who probably don’t mind it so much. He’s not really here for showing his vulnerabilities.

In a hand-to-hand fight, there’s a good chance Jason can kick your ass. He’s trained with the best and most brutal of them, he worked with Talia Al Ghul for a decent stint of time not to mention having years of experience behind him, and he’s not afraid to fight dirty. Don’t underestimate him.

[unboundpen]

Pandemonium [2/3]

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Fandom: Batman

Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, batfam appearances

Pairing: JayDami

Rated: T

Warnings: Damian is aged up, should be in college.

Summary:

In which Damian is way too oblivious and Jason suffers. 

Read on AO3

A/N: So I haven’t picked up a DC comic since Damian died in Nu52 timeline. So everyone in the batfam follows pre-Nu52 here.

Tonight there was something off about the kid. They'd hit a dead end with their case yet again, but Robin was more annoyed to have that happen. Usually, he would be fine with calling it a night or go off to patrol on his own if it was early. Red Hood would often join him if the kid decided to stick around his part of the city. Even now, as Jason surveys the scene before him, it isn't very hard to see that the kid was using more force than necessary. More than necessary for Batman, not enough for Red Hood. But hey, he was trying to work within the limitations he was given. If Robin wants to break more bones than needed, then that was his prerogative.

However, with hours of fighting bad guys, Jason can tell Robin was going to run himself ragged. It was nearly two in the morning, and Red Hood had only jumped in to help once. Robin's stamina was impressive and his fighting was always exhilarating to watch, but even now, when the last baddie drops to the ground, Jason can tell that the kid was going to get hurt if he continued like this.

Any protests Robin gives him are ignored and only cease once they're in one of Batman's safe houses, one with a communal shower, and clothes and within walking distance of Jason's favorite diner in the city.

"I don't see any reason why we have to go out for food, Todd," Damian glowers across the booth at Jason

After the two of them had showered and changed, Jason had dragged the kid back out into the night for some grub.

"Can it, Babybat. I'm willing to bet if I had sent you on your way back to the manor, you'd be a lot worse than you are now."

Damian shakes his head, now glaring at his menu that was laying flat on his table. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Jason sighs before taking a long, noisy sip of his milkshake. Damian takes the straw covering Jason had removed, and fiddles with it, eventually rolling it into a ball.

"Must you?" The kid growls.

The older man savors the taste of his milkshake, smacking his lips, "Must I what? Drink my shake like how I'm supposed to?"

Before the Damian could make a comeback, a shadow casts over them. “Decided on what you want to order, sonny?”

“Onion rings and French toast with extra powdered sugar. I also request an empty ketchup container with my food, thank you.” Damian’s tone is cold while he hands the menu to their server and then slouches against the window with his arms crossed, looking pensive as he looks out into the city night.

“Don’t mind him, Merv,” Jason says to the big guy, “Kid’s in a mood.”

The other guy chuckles, “No worries at all. I get all walks of life at this time. Believe it or not, your friend there is part of the better half.”

Jason raises his glass to him, “Well, you’re always good company.”

“You have to say that for the milkshakes.”

“Best in the city, Merv, best in the city. Better yet add two more shakes to the order."

Jason smiles brilliantly while their server walks away to get started on their order. His eyes slide back to his companion him study him. “Wanna know how I came across this place?”

“Not particularly.”

“It was sometime in the fall of the year I turned sixteen,” Jason continues, completely ignoring Damian’s snide answer, “after having one too many arguments with B, figured I needed more time to cool off.”

“Let me guess, you walked past and decided to come in for food?”

Jason taps his glass patiently, “Nope, now don’t interrupt story time. Anyways, I was getting into fights just like you were doing tonight, just not as Robin -all in civvies. Got into a nasty fight with one baddie in particular and we just so happened to be trading blows right outside of this place. Guy got ahold of me and actually threw me through the same window behind me.” His right-hand goes up to point a thumb at the booth behind him.

Damian’s eyes flicker past Jason’s shoulder with intrigue then looks back at him, sitting up straight.

“My arms were pretty cut up, this one especially,” Jason flexed the fingers of the same hand that he had used to point, “So I couldn’t get a good hit on the other guy, who was pretty much pummeling my face at that point. Hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t pass out. Merv was actually the one that pulled him off of me and turned him into the police. He was gonna hand me over too but saw that I was just a kid. So he sat me down at the counter, handed me a shake and patched my arms up. Turns out he worked medical during the Korean War.”

Damian, at that point, was giving Jason a skeptical look, “What about the window?”

“I got B to pay for it and hire some quick workers to replace it. Technically, he was the one responsible. Wouldn’t have broken that window if he wasn’t on my case about everything that night. I’d come in from time to time, help out Merv if the place was swamped with customers or help clean tables and sweep the floor, but eventually, it was the milkshakes that got me coming back.”

Merv comes back with their orders, setting Damian’s steaming plate of French toast before him and the onion rings next to it. The shakes come clinking in after, this time in front of Jason. “Enjoy,” he states before moving to a booth that had called him over.

Jason takes a meaningful sip as he watches Damian primly cut his French toast in strips with a fork and knife then reaches over to take the syrup container and pour its contents into the empty ketchup container he asked for. Jason’s eyebrows raise up when Damian takes a strip and starts dunking it.

Hmm.

Elbow on the table and chin in hand, Damian takes a bite.

“So, Bruce issues?”

The kid looks up at Jason with a blank expression as he chews.

“Look, as an experienced veteran of navigating through the complicated waters of your dad’s disapproval, it’s not that hard to figure out that he’s the source of all of your…this.” He gestures to all of Damian.

“That was quite...poetic of you, Todd, but if it’s all the same to you, I would prefer not to talk about it right this second.”

Jason holds up both hands in surrender with a bitter smile, “Hey I get it. I’m not Dick. Sometimes talking makes it worse if you’re not up for it. I’m just here to keep you company and for when you are ready to talk about it. In the meantime,” Jason slides one of the milkshakes across, “unwind and enjoy the food."

And for the rest of the night, they eat in comfortable silence. This was nice. Jason wouldn’t mind getting used to doing something like this on a more frequent basis. For the most part, living on his own left him craving companionship. It’s also why he had Kori and Roy as teammates. They were two of the most affectionate people he knew, aside from Dick.

From there his thoughts wander, how would they feel about him potentially being with Damian? Better yet how would they interact with the demon spawn overall. Now that would be a very interesting thing to witness.

xXx

It's been about two months, closing in on three, of them working together on this case and Jesus Lord Almighty, Jason was frustrated in every conceivable way. Yes, there is the never-ending sexual frustration -which he doesn't even want to delve into right now, lest he gives himself continual blue balls...again- but he's aware that this thing he had for Damian was going further than just sexual attraction. It's so bad that he's so close to swan diving off of one of the bridges in the city.

But no, that would be the easy way out, and while he was lazy for the most part, this wasn't something he was trying to half-ass. Especially with how fucking clueless Damian was with everything he's been doing. If Jason did anything subtle, it went over the kid's head.

Jason has to resort to his biggest move. Yeah, it’s gotten that bad. So here he was, on a slow day, and arms full of groceries, walking up the steps of the manor, per Alfred's request. He would reach down to get his own set of keys, but why struggle when the doorbell was a lot more accessible.

Jason didn't have to wait long for the door to open, and who was at the door but none other than the owner of the manor.

"Jason?"

The look of surprise on Bruce's face was something the younger man appreciated. There were a few things that could take Bruce Wayne by surprise, and even less for Batman.

"Uh yeah, just here to..." Jason fumbles over the next few words in his head.

To get your son to like me by cooking him his favorite foods so that hopefully I can get in his pants?

"Get a few recipes off of Alfred," he finishes slowly.

Bruce's face relaxes back into neutral and holds the door a bit wider so Jason can enter. Half of the bags are taken from his arms as Bruce shuts the door, and they make their way to the kitchen.

Bruce hums in reply, "How's the case going? Damian hasn't said much on it."

"Because there isn't much to say to be honest. We're looking into any leads we come across along with stakeouts on their warehouse." Which was true, yeah they have the location for drug storage, but they weren't searching for the drugs. It was the child trafficking Jason was trying to put a stop to. Old habits of some of the criminals on his side had resurfaced while Jason was away. Five months of operation may not seem like much, but that's still one too many kids out there.

Bruce nods as they enter the kitchen and places the food on the island, which Jason copies. Then they just kinda stand there, the air turning awkward. Jason's skin starts to crawl from the way Bruce is not so secretly studying him. While their relationship may have gotten better, this stagnant air between them would always be the norm when they weren't talking about something related to crime fighting.

"Hey, I'll be making enough for everyone in the manor, probably even more than that. So you can let the others know if you want." There, now he can claim that he tried.

Jason would be lying if he said he wasn't blinded by Bruce's sudden smile. And just like that, Jason was brought back to the more happier times of his teenhood. Jason wasn’t an exception to the need for approval from Bruce Wayne. There was a reason why once you’re a part of the batfam, no one can never really leave. You become hooked and once you're flying high on it, he can take it all away for weeks, even months. However, another result is actually leaving for a time. Dick, Jason (obviously), Tim, Cass, and Steph, even Babs. They had all left at some point, but even from those breaks, the wash of Bruce’s approval was imprinted. Jason had fought that instinct for so hard and so long that all his relationships would never go back to what they were. Eventually, everyone comes back to try and coexist with it.

It was only a matter of time before Damian had to pass through the final leg of this long endured initiation into the batfam. But to Jason, he hopes that the kid can maintain this somewhat decent relationship with his father.

“The last time everyone was here for a family dinner was Thanksgiving three years ago.”  

Jason’s eyebrows raise, “Everyone?”

Bruce nods confidently, “Barbara is visiting, Stephanie is back for spring break, and Cassandra -as I’m sure you’re aware- has moved back almost half a year ago.”

“Oh wow, full house tonight.”

The older man looks wistful. Jason watches Bruce get that far off look, where he can only imagine how Bruce’s ideal family dinner unfolds. Thankfully, Alfred chooses that exact time to push through the kitchen’s swinging door.

“Well then,” Bruce clears his throat, broken out of his reverie, “I guess I better tell everyone else to stay for dinner.”

“Splendid idea, sir,” Alfred responds smoothly then turns to Jason as soon as Bruce leaves the room. “I’ve taken the liberty of pulling out the recipes we shall be using tonight. Although, I do have to say this may be a bit…much.”

Alfred pulls out a stack of index cards from his coat pocket with an amused look. Jason whistles, “The kid likes to eat.”

Alfred places the stack on the island, “To be fair, Master Jason, you did say all the food he likes. That is a very broad guideline to go by.”

The younger man grins and starts to take everything out of their bags. “Would it help if I said his favorites then?”

Alfred taps the pile thoughtfully, “That does cut this down considerably…."

Jason stops moving and steals a glance at Alfred who was studying him. He was somewhat prepared for the questioning that may have come with the request, he just wasn’t prepared for it this early. He was hoping that he would be busy prepping at least.

“Is there a particular reason why we are only cooking food palatable to Master Damian?”

“Not really.” Yes, yes he is very aware just how higher pitched that sounded.

Alfred lifts an amused eyebrow at Jason, but the younger man does not budge. A moment of silence later and the butler concedes with a sigh, “Very well then, Master Jason. Shall we get started?”

xXx

Jason had to say that this dish was the most unique thing he’s ever attempted. This was apparently Damian’s favorite by far, and the whole recipe was copied down word for word straight from the kid’s mouth. And according to Alfred, that was from the first night Damian started living with them. Oxblood was something he never would have expected to cook in his lifetime. However, the smell was pretty appetizing.

That was one conversation he attempted with Damian on one of their nights together. Considering that the kid had gone vegetarian, was he going so far as to go vegan? The answer had been that the kid was not opposed to eating meat if they were killed humanely and all body parts were used, but considering that this was a hard thing to keep track for each and every animal, vegetarian was the easier option for now.

When I was younger, mother had a specialty soup made with oxblood.  Thankfully, Pennyworth has a source where the animals are not killed for it.

So like donating blood to eat, interesting. What about lab-grown meat?

-Tt- I've tried the impossible burger. If they make lab-grown meat without it tasting like liver, then I will consider it an option.

He gives the stew one final stir and then covers it to let it simmer. He sidesteps to the setup beside the stove and picks up where he left off. Alfred had left him to deal with the manor’s laundry. Considering that the manor was almost at full capacity, it would be a while before the butler came back. But before Jason could get lost in the motions of making dolmas, there was some commotion outside one of the two doors to the kitchen.

“Alfred is definitely cooking up a feast. I wonder why-”

The door swings open and in walk Dick, Tim, and Cassandra, with Dick and Tim freezing at the sight of Jason standing there surrounded by steam, hands full of lab-grown meat filling, and covered in an almost frilly apron. For a moment, he freezes too. Of course, Bruce had said everyone was here, but another thing he did not mentally prepare for was actually interacting with his siblings until dinner.

“Not Alfred,” the second eldest in the room states and sidles up comfortably next to Jason. That wasn’t much to go by since they were about the same age anyway. She uncovers the oxblood soup and basks in the smell before she takes up stirring.

Tim is the first of the other two men to unfreeze, inspecting Jason’s handwork while walking up to the island.

“Soooo,” Tim drags that word on for a bit, “what’s the occasion?”

Jason, without missing a beat, places his finished dolma onto the forming stack located slightly to the left. “You don’t gotta worry your head about that.”

He hopes that he looks at least collected on the outside, but his nervousness rises as he watches Tim look around, studying all the food that Jason had made or was preparing. It wouldn’t be long before he figured out what Jason was doing, and he curses the kid for it.

Dick, the last to recover, follows Tim and sits at one of the bar stools opposite of Jason and Cassandra.

“It’s sort of a big deal when it’s you that’s cooking, Jay,” Dick says, reaching over to pluck one of the piping hot potstickers out from the steam basket.

“Hah!… Hah,” Dick breathes through his mouth while he fans at his face.

Tim nods in agreement, ignoring Dick’s sounds of pain. “This all seems to be Dami-”

Jason coughs loudly, catching Cassandra’s small smile of amusement. She’d probably already deduced it too.

“Maybe I just got tired of the taste of beer and ramen every night,” he spouts, then directs his gaze to the woman standing next to him who had taken a spoon to taste the soup, “Cass had the right idea, you guys could make yourselves useful and help me out with these. Ah, except you Dickie-bird, you’re fine right there. Just don’t eat everything.”

Tim shrugs, not objecting before he washes his hands and takes one of the wooden cutting boards from a shelf. The smaller man situates himself on the other side of Jason, who had rearranged the station so the growing pile of dolmas, the grape leaves, and the filling were between them.

“And why can’t I help?” Dick whines, once he manages to swallow a bit of the food in his mouth.

“Because you burn what you cook.” Jason doesn’t hold back the laugh that comes tumbling out of his mouth. Cassandra’s childlike bluntness always took him by surprise while Dick’s pout was just the additional cherry on top. The eldest takes another and suffers through the burning sensation, much to everyone's amusement.

"You remember that Damian is vegetarian right?" He says once he's able to talk again.

"It's made in a lab."

"No kidding?" Dick holds it up into the light like it was a diamond to inspect it, "It tastes like it's real pork. He's okay with that?"

Jason shrugs, "I mean technically, it still is pork. As long as it doesn't taste like liver, he should be cool with it."

And then Jason shows Tim how to prepare one before they fall into an easy silence. He had made about five different dishes for tonight, with this batch being the last of it. The thing was he had already steamed a lot that the leftover ingredients were for him to take home and prepare for himself and a few for Alfred to make at a later date.

After about half an hour of Dick eating half a dozen potstickers, Cass sampling the other dishes, and Tim obsessively making sure that the grape leaves were secure (Jason has to admit that the atmosphere was actually really pleasant), he sees a flash of light across the room followed by the distinct sound of a shutter flash.

Whispers and giggling coming from the other side of the door before the culprits burst through. Barbara wheels herself in followed by a grinning Stephanie Brown, her wrist flicking in the air as she fans the polaroid she just took.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Just need the two actual Waynes in here and then it’ll be a true reunion.”

“It’s a sight to see when Jason is the one that’s cooking. What would be even better is if Dick actually manages to make something without ruining it that isn't cereal,” Barbara teases.

“Ouch, Babs.” Dick gives her a weak smile.

“Well,” Stephanie singsongs, coming around to be beside Cassandra to hip bump the other woman, “she ain’t wrong there, Dick.”

Dick grabs one of the cooled potstickers he had plucked out and handed it over to Barbara, which she takes thankfully. “Alright, that’s three against three.”

“Actually,” Tim cuts in, “make that four.”

Jason nods, “Five.”

“Aw, screw all of you,” Dick shoots back without malice.

Stephanie frowns at the pot in front of Cassandra. “Uh, Jay, you do know that Damian and Cass are the only ones that really eat this, right?”

“No worries, there’s plenty of other food.”

“Yeah about that,” Tim starts.

“-all of this stuff is what Dami likes to eat,” Stephanie interjects.

Jason goes still, avoiding eye-contact with all of his bat-siblings, then rolls his eyes upward and counts the tiny speckles on the ceiling tiles. The underlings of the Greatest Detective in the world...of course, one of them was bound to say it out loud. His skin really starts to itch from everyone's eyes on him. Once he finally gathers the nerve to look around, the range of expectant faces overwhelms him and he feels his face start to heat up. Gone were the familiar conflicting emotions on some of their faces, which made his chest tight from giddiness?

Welp, that was new.

“You guys could set the table,” he grits out.

None of them move, much less say anything. And fuck, Jason knows he can’t avoid not talking.

“This is to say thanks for helping out with the case we’ve been working on.” Even now it sounds really weak to his ears.

Babs crosses her arms under her chest and gives him a pointed look over her glasses, “There’s gotta be more than that, or else you’d have been cooking our favorite meals for ALL of us for a while now.”

“Yeah, last I checked, I didn’t get a homemade meal courtesy of the Red Hood-” Stephanie gasps and clasps her hands to her mouth, eyes comically going wide at Jason. The raven-haired beauty between her and Jason gives an imperceptible nod, while Tim’s grin grows sharp within Jason’s peripheral.

Jason swears and wipes his hands on his apron roughly. He turns around to get the pot he used earlier and turns back with a not so subtle bang on the counter to Dick and Barbara leaning in a lot closer than before, unflinching at the sound.

“Why can’t you guys mind your own damned business?” He puts the prepped dolmas into the pot none too gently.

Dick has his head in his hands, staring intently at Jason. “The only time I’ve ever seen you cook food was for that one girl that came over for dinner when you were a sophomore in high school.”

Babs glances over at Dick with curiosity while Tim finishes his last roll and pops it in next to the one that Jason put, deftly avoiding Jason's jerky movements.

“If I remember correctly, you had this huge crush on her and wanted to impress her with your cooking,” Dick furrows his brows in thought, “but that wouldn’t be right. You don’t like Damian, and you certainly don’t have a…crush…on Damian.”

Dick pauses, then lifts his head off of his hands, locking eyes with Jason, and then straightens in such a way that you'd know he'd been around speedsters for a certain amount of time. “Unless you do have a crush on Damian.”

Jason tries to keep his face neutral, but his silence was answer enough for the rest of them. The air gets thick before all chaos breaks loose. The barrage of voices came from all sides of the room.

“Oh My God, you like Damian?!” “How long have you liked him?” “It was pretty obvious.” “Called it.”

Jason places a plate on top of the food in the pot before he fills it with water. “I do not confirm nor deny having a crush -of all things- on the demon spawn.”

Stephanie pushes away from the island and points at Jason in accusation with the corner of the Polaroid, the picture half-formed, “Oh you so do.”

“There’s no hiding it, Jason.” If Tim’s grin got anymore sharper, Jason could probably use it to chop more vegetables. Jason chuckles at the thought of banging Tim's head on the counter repeatedly but stops when he sees that Dick has not budged at all.

“You,” Dick emphasizes by holding his hands out towards Jason, then he moves them to the side, lost in thought, “and Damian.”

Barbara adjusts her glasses and gives Jason a rueful smile, “Odd pairing, but it makes sense.”

“Right? Your immediate reaction would be like ‘Woah!’ but then if you think about it, they would be good for each other.” Stephanie says with animated hands.

“Fuck. Me.” Jason mutters under his breath.

“Nah, Damian could do that,” Tim counters.

“Or Jason to Damian,” Cassandra adds.

This time Jason snatches a clean towel from the counter and hides his face in it, knowing that it was way beyond the suitable normal color of pale. He hears the loud, ringing smack of a high five behind him, followed by loud giggling from the two.

"I swear, I will shoot each and every one of you in the foot.” Was his towel lessening the threat? Yeah, but it was a better option than looking at any of them at the moment. Then hears a snort from Barbara.

Ah crap,

Poor choice of words, but she was always a good sport when it came to her injury. If there was one thing she was fond of with Jason, it was his anger towards the one that caused them the most hurt. He-who-must-not-be-named, if you will. Yeah, he took that from Harry Potter. Voldemort wasn't the only unspeakable name.

“Is there a reason to be this loud?”

The only person -or well, one of the two people who would have made the situation much worse had stepped in.

“Nothing, no reason at all,” Barbara responds way too quickly for Jason's liking, “Cass, Steph, why don’t you guys help me set the table. Better yet, you two too.”

“Todd?”

Jason sighs and lowers his arms to the sight of the other batsiblings filing out with plates and cutlery, which had been set there by Alfred. They were all abnormally silent but each one of them with shit-eating grins. His gaze slides to Damian whose head was tilted in a questioning manner as his eyes sweep over the scene before him.

“Uh, hey, Damian.”

“What’s all this?”

Jason replaces the pot of oxblood with the pot full of dolmas. “I was getting tired of the taste of my usual recipes,” Jason does a one-shoulder shrug, ignoring the heat of his probably red face, “I figured that since I was here, I may as well cook for everyone.”

The kid’s face was really unreadable.

“With Alfred’s help…of course,” he adds.

Jason’s breath hitches when Damian comes around to his side, peering at what was on the stove. The kid was close enough that Jason could smell what hair product and body soap he had used. It wafts and mixes with the other scents in the kitchen.

While most cologne would counter the scents of the kitchen, the smell of lemongrass is fitting with the smells of the Asian dishes that Jason had cooked up. Jason starts to drown from the kid's presence, his smell, the water droplets that dripped from his hair and trickled down his neck. He gets lost at the thought of following those water trails with his tongue but snaps back to Earth when he hears Damian's voice.

“I doubt you would have much of a taste for seonjiguk.”

“While I do go for the more traditional chili dogs and pizza, I’m not opposed to trying new food.”

Damian hums absently, then reaches down to take the spoon that Cassandra had used to sample the soup with and dips it into the pot to taste. He would have warned the kid about the used spoon, but one, he was still nervous with the kid's close proximity, and two, all of them have shared food with one another that sharing germs wasn't much of a concern anyway. However, he was envious that Cassandra had just shared an indirect kiss with Damian.

Jason balks at the ridiculousness of that thought. Indirect kiss? What was he ten?

"This," the kid starts thoughtfully with a fond smile, "tastes the closest to my mother's."

"I uh-," Jason clears his throat, "made sure to go to Alfred's place so it's ethically to your standards. All the other dishes that have meat in them actually contain lab-grown meat. So those are also ethically safe."

Damian reaches across to get one of the leftover potstickers that Dick left out to cool. Unlike the eldest Robin, he takes a bite into it rather than stuffing the whole thing in his mouth, and Jason almost groans at the sight of the younger man’s lips wrapping around the appetizer. There was a light glistening on Damian’s upper lip from the grease of the filling, and Jason goes cross-eyed when he sees Damian’s tongue follow the trail. It seems his eyes have been doing that every time the kid was around.

Damian takes no notice in Jason's discomfort as he savors the taste with his eyes closed. With each methodical chew, the kid’s face softens.

“Decent.”

“Thanks,” Jason gulps. Two compliments in a row. Jason feels his pride wash over him and his pants go tight until he hunches over in hopes that his pants aren’t tenting that much. God, is the addictive nature of Bruce Wayne’s approval genetic? It had already been a confusing time for Jason and his hormones when he was Robin, but getting turned on from praising words from Damian Wayne?

“Why don’t you help me take the food out to the table?” He suggests, ignoring how gruff his voice sounds.

Damian’s eyes open and it feels like the kid already knows what’s going on, and Jason’s breath catches in his throat.

“You made rice, yes?”

Jason deflates and then snorts, “After the rant that you and Cassandra gave. How could I not remember to?”

Damian nods with no joke. “Good.” Then he takes one of the plates and heads out of the kitchen. Jason sighs and shakes his head then takes deep breaths, trying to calm his beating heart. He knew it was pathetic, but there wasn’t much else to do other than bulldoze forward. And he thought he did pretty well with bulldozing since the kid should have definitely caught wind of Jason’s interest. It was pretty obvious.

He walks around and picks up the sweet and sour eggplant dish.

Maybe he'll see after this family dinner.

xXx

How?! How the fucking how? Three fucking days and not one word, not one inclination that Damian was aware. Hell if he did something obvious, the kid would still not notice. At this rate, he would probably have to kiss the kid to get his feelings across.

The dinner had been torturous, the constant teasing from everyone while Bruce and Damian were oblivious as to why. Well, maybe even then Bruce caught on, but Jason didn’t want to even think about that possibility. The focus was on Damian and this case of course. He can face daddy’s wrath once he gets the kid. And even then that was a very small chance.

But now that all of them knew, they went out of their ways to bring it up as much as possible. Even earlier this evening, he had received several texts within the batkids family chat, with all but Damian in there.

“Hey,” he starts, still laying on his back on the rooftop ledge, even now he knows that his phone is getting messages from the chat. Hell, there probably was a comm-link opened with them plotting several different ways to take him down with embarrassment via his attraction for Damian.

“You ever just think about not being in the gig anymore?”

Robin lowers his binoculars and places the mask in his direction.

“Not at all.”

Jason sits up slowly and pops his back before picking up his cigarette again. "That's gotta be a lie.”

Robin’s lip purse in the thought, then softly, “I was created for this. It is all I’ve known.”

Jason notices the kid's choice of words. Created...not born...

“Come on, Babybat. You have to have some frustrations with being Robin.”

Damian’s cheeks twinge with movement before he turns back to face the warehouse.

“Frustrations, yes, but none that I cannot deal with on my own. They have been new…relatively speaking.”

New frustrations for the kid?

Jason takes in Robin’s frame and notes all the tiny clues: stuttering breathing, rapidly beating pulse and avoiding eye contact. The kid was embarrassed.

Oh.

OH.

Jason swallows with difficulty. “Everyone gets that at one point or another on patrol. Best is to just find release before you start swinging again.”

“I do,” the kid admits quietly.

Oh okay, so he could not breathe properly. Jason can only hear the blood rushing through his veins. And it’s a while before Jason can even utter another word. Maybe now would be the best time? Maybe not? God, would it be creepy if he did?

Fuck it.

“So, I’m just gonna go ahead and say it,” Jason curses under his breath before continuing, and what comes out is just babbling words. “I’ve been doing this for a few weeks now, and it’s like you’re not noticing what exactly I’m doing. It’s obvious, so obvious that everyone else knows. I mean I cooked a dinner of your favorite foods. How is that not hint enough for you? But for Superman’s cape, which mating dance do I have to do for you to realize that I like you?!”

He’ll admit, he does sound hysterical near towards the end there. His chest heaves with the exertion of finally telling the brat outright.

Robin directs his gaze back at Jason. “-Tt- Of course, you like me.”

His mouth drops open, speechless. Wow, that was said so simply. As if it was the most obvious thing. He had to hold back a laugh, a laugh he would have no control over. Oh, it was over! Now was just to wait for the kid’s acceptance or rejection, and if Jason were at all honest with himself, he'd take either option. They were a lot better than Jason continuously up in feelings limbo.

Robin’s lips stretch into a fond, close-lipped smile. “We are partners after all.”

The shock is instant. Jason isn’t sure how the kid could be this clueless. Then the too familiar act of free falling towards the dirty street flows around him. Jason's instincts kick in, with his hands reaching for his grappling gun before shooting it in a random direction. His body flips once more and then jerks with the sudden change of momentum. The gun reels him in, only for Jason to realize that the warehouse was coming in way too quickly, and he struggles to get his other grappling gun to shoot.

BANG

Thank god for the fucking helmet, is his first thought, but then it’s quickly overpowered by a sharp pain in his left shin. While there was a bang from his helmet connecting with the long windows of the warehouse, he vaguely recalls that it was one of his legs connecting with the ledge first. There’s no way he can move right now, however, he feels his arm lifting then a smaller body presses up against his side. Jason feels an arm wrap around his torso before they’re moving upwards.

His eyes closed and all he can just focus on is breathing through the blooming pain. It may also be the growing paranoia, but he thinks his leg is swinging in a place that should not be swinging. Just from that, it takes all his might not to throw up in his helmet.

It was always a bitch to clean whenever that happens.

Pretty soon they land, none too gently, a good 50 rooftops away from their location. The kid was fast on the line.

Jason throws off his helmet and falls onto his palms, leaving no weight on his injured leg, before he starts throwing up. While his pain tolerance was fairly high, unexpectedly (potentially) breaking his bones can get him to upheave his dinner.

Through his retching, Jason hears Robin tsk in disgust beside him. “I did not take you for an easy fainter, 'Hood.”

Jason spits away the bitter taste left in his mouth when his body stops, then wipes away any bile from his lips before he scowls up at Robin. “I didn't faint,” he grits out, maneuvering himself until he’s sitting and blinks away the involuntary tears that come from throwing up.

Robin’s expression screws up in concern, then he crouches down, reaching out for the older man’s leg.

“Don’t touch,” Jason snaps.

The kid frowns, dropping his hand, but keeps crouched next to Jason. “Don’t be even more of an idiot, Red Hood, it may be broken.”

“Oh,” Jason chuckles darkly, “more of an idiot?”

“Yes,” Robin stresses, “your carelessness alerted them of our presence.”

The older vigilante sucks in a breath. Then struggles to his feet, favoring one leg over the other. He notices that Robin stands up with him, but doesn’t try to reach out to help him again. Instead, the kid opts for crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m heading home.”

Robin nods once, “I suppose it would be best to call it a night. Do…Do you need assistance returning home?”

“No, the idiot can manage just fine, thanks.” Jason knows his sarcasm is scathing right now, but he couldn’t care less, even when the kid straight up scowls at him.

“Fine,” Robin responds icily. Then doesn’t wait for Jason to be the first one to leave.

Once Jason is sure that he’s gone, he spends a good minute cursing loudly up at the sky. Of all the outcomes that could have happened, it was just his luck that it would be something like this.

xXx

He could say he is ashamed of how he’s been. After that disastrous confession that made him feel like he was in middle school again and almost breaking his leg, which would have left him out of commission for a good two months -thank god that wasn’t the case, just a very ugly bruise that took up half of his leg- he had not seen the kid since. His phone had been blowing up within the chat group, but instead of light teasing, there were concerned messages all around. After that night, Jason’s mood wasn’t the only one that had turned sour. Sure it may be a petty thing, but it did lighten Jason’s mood knowing that the kid was bothered too.

But after some coaxing from Roy and Kori, Jason had finally mustered up the will to get changed and went to where the kid had texted to meet him. Since this was in a place with a lot of foot traffic, it would have brought them more attention if Jason went out as Red Hood. The kid was probably out undercover too.

Jason rolls his shoulders under the jacket he had chosen for tonight. He muses that this was a jacket he had gotten before his trip to space. Oh well, it’s not like he’s strapped for cash anyway. He makes a mental note to go to proper clothes shopping.

Just then he feels the full force of someone trying to barrel him over. His hands reach up to steady the person and himself. Damian’s scent is what he registers first before he looks down at Damian’s annoyed glare.

Before Damian could say anything, sounds of heavy running came from around the corner. The kid pulls both of them into an alley next to them. It was a bit too forceful of a pull since Damian’s head hits the brick wall hard enough to make his teeth chatter.

The sounds of footsteps get louder.

Damian’s eyes flitter over Jason’s shoulder then zing right back, wide with panic. “Kiss me.”

“What?” Jason blurts out, which gets Damian to roll his eyes before he grips Jason’s shoulders with both hands and pulls him in until Jason feels the surprising softness of Damian’s lips.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

The kiss wasn’t even a kiss by Jason’s standards, it was purely the basic definition of the act. Lips touching lips. And once Jason realized that his eyes shut close from the pure bliss he was enjoying. It was scary that all the worry and bad juju feelings he had for the past week all seems to evaporate. Nonetheless, he lets himself get lost and unconsciously initiates more of the kiss.

The older man hunches over Damian, unconsciously putting all of his weight against the kid, who doesn’t protest at all. This was all too much and happening too fast for Jason’s mind to keep up. The scent of lemongrass and herbs ropes around Jason, binding him that closer to Damian. With every breath he takes through his nose, he gets even more lost. The flat hand above Damian’s head adjusts so Jason’s weight was on his forearm instead, allowing him to completely cover Damian’s body with his own.

Once he’s situated better, Jason angles his head then slowly deepens the kiss. He almost stops when Damian moves underneath him, feeling lithe hands grab fistfuls of his shirt. The anticipation, the expectation of being pushed away, it levels Jason from the weightlessness that is quickly spreading throughout his body. But it never comes. Instead, the kid tentatively kisses back.

Jason knows he’s shaking from the adrenaline. Not like he cares at the moment though. Especially when he can reach up to cup the kid’s neck and jaw. Damian goes rigid for a second, most likely the fighting instincts preparing to attack back, but Jason caresses the kid’s cheek with his thumb.

God, it’s so fucking smooth. If given the chance, Jason could probably keep stroking that spot for hours.

Damian’s hands flatten to palms on Jason’s chest, then slide around Jason’s torso to pull Jason in until they are flush against each other.

Welp, there’s no hiding the erection now.

The kiss is suddenly broken, with Jason following after the kid’s lips for a split second. He inwardly groans. Not opening his eyes at all, he rests his forehead on the hand against the wall. Damian’s ear is right next to mouth, so he’s aware the kid can hear his ragged breathing.

“I believe they are gone now. They saw me around the entrance, hence why I needed you to kiss me.”

Jason takes pleasure in the fact that Damian’s voice was husky.

Wahid

Talatha

“Todd?”

“Give me a moment, Babybat,” Jason whispers hoarsely, but his mind blanks when the kid shivers against him. So he starts again, out-loud this time.

“Wahid…talatha…khamsa…saba,” the older man trails off, wracking his currently putty-like brain for the next number.

“Ahad ashr.”

Jason startles out of his thoughts, then backs off a little to look at the kid. He was a sight that Jason appreciates: pupils dilated, eyelashes long and curling to frame the baby blues with one eye slightly closed from Jason’s thumb still stroking his cheekbone, face darker from the flush of his skin, and his lips full and plump. However delectable Damian looks in this exact moment, his face is neutral.

“You’re counting in prime numbers?” Jason nods. "Eleven is ahad ashr.”

“Oh, shukran.” May as well thank the kid in his language anyway.

Jason doesn’t want to pull away, especially not when Damian gives him a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. To his credit, Damian doesn’t seem to be making a move to push Jason away either, just that his arms drop from the older man’s body.

“Do…do we have to go after them?” His hand drops away to hang awkwardly at his side.

“No.”

It’s at that instant that the floaty, post-kiss air dissipates and Jason can see the kid remembering the last time they were together. He sighs but doesn’t take a step back just yet.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t faint. I also didn’t mean to be an ass-“

Damian snorts and Jason glowers back at him, “I’m trying to fucking apologize here. Not like it was entirely my fault.”

The kid looks aghast. “I understand I was…difficult when I first came here but-“

“No. No. Nono. That’s not…” Jason sighs, “Do you remember what we were talking about before I fell off the roof?”

His face scrunches up in concentration, “We were discussing our mutual respect for each other.”

Jason sighs again, this time with his whole body, “Not exactly. I said I like you.”

“Right, which is necessary for two people to work together.”

“No, you dipshit." Jason gives the two of them more distance between by stepping back a few more steps and quickly continues before the kid starts swinging, “I like you, Damian…like you like how Bruce likes Selina."

So the thing with assassin babies, and their beaten in assassin training, was that when trying to process new information, they were good at maintaining a poker face. And Damian wouldn’t be Damian if he wasn’t doing that right now. To cope with the silence, Jason amuses himself with the thought that Damian’s head was record-scratching back to what he had just said and Damian’s brain melting from it.

The kid then starts to blink rapidly, getting Jason to think maybe he did break the little Wayne.

“So,” Damian starts quietly, so quiet that Jason strains his ears to hear, “that was what Grayson and the others were talking about."

"I don't know what they said to you exactly."

"All those looks and jokes they were making to each other. They knew. And I was the last to know?" Damian questions incredulously.

This time Jason bursts out laughing. It's a laugh mixed with hysteria, absolute amusement, and just a smidgen of relief. He brings his hands up to his face and presses his bare palms to his eyes and continues laughing for a good moment.

By the time Jason is calmer, he drops his arms back to his side to the view of Damian looking petulant. It was cute.

Jason can't even erase the grin on his face, making the kid's pout even deeper. "It's not like I was trying to hide it. I've been trying to tell you that I like you for a few weeks now."

That does nothing to stop Damian's sulking.

"I literally told you I liked you last week. I even specifically said I made dinner with your favorite foods, which I did. Considering that everyone caught on that all of those dishes were the food you like, we all would have thought you'd have caught on. But for the actual biological son of Batman, you can be incredibly dense."

Well, the sulk does turn into a scowl, and it's fitting. "Is that how you talk to someone you like?"

"Yes."

It's interesting to actually see the kid blush from embarrassment. "But...how? Why?"

This time Jason steps closer to Damian, forcing the kid to look up at him again. "Can't really explain how. Not now anyway. I don't want to scare you off with that info. But for the why?" Jason's tone is soft, "I think out of everyone I know, you've understood me best. Sometimes I get into those moods and you just understand that that happens, and you don't bug me about it. Not everything has to be talked about, not for every time anyway. Trying to explain to someone who hasn't been resurrected so violently like we have, that the violence and anger and frustration that we have is like telling B to go kill someone with a gun." He smiles wryly at that and the kid does too.

"Not to mention how much hotter you've gotten."

Damian rolls his eyes.

"Right, yeah, can't make you blush from compliments since you already know how attractive you are." Jason runs a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Todd...Jason, I..." Jesus, Damian looks like he's constipated with his loss of words.

"Don't strain yourself," Jason responds in bemusement, then after a beat sigh, "Look, you don't have to answer me right away. I know you never really considered me or anyone for that matter-"

"Not true," Damian cuts in sharply, then his cheeks turn a few shades darker. "That is to say, it is not true that I have not considered you romantically, nor are you the only one. However, those few times were brief thoughts."

That brightens Jason's mood greatly. "Well, again, you don't have to answer right away."

The younger man nods, "I cannot make an immediate decision based solely on those few times."

"Right, but now that you actually know," Jason steps closer to Damian, bringing one arm above Damian's head to lean on the wall, almost getting as close as they were when they were kissing, "would it be okay to kiss you again? I was actually holding back before. I wanna give myself a more lasting impression, ya know?"

It's a lot easier to seduce someone when they actually know Jason's intentions, and with Damian, it is a lot more amusing. The kid was so caught off guard, having really only used his own charms and seduction as a means to achieve a goal. His lack of experience was endearing.

His other hand comes up to cup Damian's jaw again, and his breath hitches just the tiniest bit.

Jason, in his element now, leans down until his forehead touches Damian's, his hooded eyes boring into Damian's, as his thumb slowly caresses Damian's bottom lip, soft lip. God so soft.

The older man says nothing else, knowing that this slow seduction was working for him. He makes no other movements, just his thumb running over Damian's lip over and over.

This time when Damian says, "Kiss me, Todd," it's the barest of whispers.

[octalove]

VI: The Dotted Line

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Jason extends an offer. Part one, two, three, four, and five.

Note: someone said Batgirl and Jason mission, and i am but a humble servant of the people. also, i almost named this chapter “Carolyn Crawford”. Hope you like❤️

TW: Decription of sex work (barely), very light gore

Being back at Batman’s side was a peculiar thing these days. Soothing and suffocating all at once; like returning home after a long, liberating trip. It felt easy, and safe. I was reminded of the first time he brought me up to a towering building top. I clung to Nightwing like a life preserver.

Once I found my footing, the building tops were the only place I felt safe. The taller the skyscraper, the higher and farther from the grim city that raised me. I wondered what would happen when I outgrew the skyscrapers, too.

November was settling like an icy blanket over Gotham. My breath wreathed around me as my chest heaved from scaling the office building I was settled on, hoping to catch a glimpse of the gray dawn as 2am turned to 3am. I could see Robin’s breath too, as he crouched like a gargoyle on the balls of his feet. Even when I pushed his arm lightly, he glared, but didn’t move. The kid had incredible balance.

“I was beginning to enjoy your absence.” He muttered.

I smiled at him. “Are you kidding? Patrol is boring without me.”

“Patrol is boring without brainless plebeians to subdue. I can make due without you.”

“So you’re saying you don’t consider me a brainless plebeian?” I replied.

His lip twitched. He liked this game. It was the birthplace of many of his preferred insults.

“Closer to a bumbling fawn.”

“I like that one.”

Damian’s disinterest in all things regarding my thoughts and feelings was a good distraction. I’d been using him for the past week since my latest brush with Red Hood. Well, Jason. It was still hard to wrap my mind around.

I knew him. He knew me. I shouldn’t have been worried; he knew nothing about me. Nothing other than who I was, anyway. I wanted to ignore whatever residual feeling was left from fighting him on the docks, and I really wanted to say I hadn’t thought about the last thing he said to me. But in truth, I’d thought of little else. The large gaps of time between our meetings left time for that.

We were looking for him tonight. More specifically, Batman and Nightwing were. Robin and I were sent to the quiet apartment rows of Crest Hill, watching over nothing in particular. Sent to keep us away from the fray. Even Robin knew it. When Batman said we’d be patrolling here, he looked like he could rip the head off a puppy.

“Movement in Coventry.”

“On it. Thanks, Oracle.”

One of the better quirks of Damian Wayne was that in the case he was spurned by his favored allies (Bruce, Dick), he quickly formed new alliances (me, Tim). Bumbling fawn comment aside, I could tell I was in his good graces tonight by utter happenstance and Batman’s shortcomings. I was nothing if not opportunistic.

“We can get to Coventry before they can.” I said quickly, keeping the nervous excitement in my voice to a minimum. He eyed me cautiously.

“Batman may be trying not to take risks, but we can handle a couple of goons. Besides,” I added. “Red Hood will probably be gone by then. He always is.” I was overselling it; Robin was already standing, eyes roving over the city scape in search of the best route to Coventry. I stood with him, then let the free-fall adrenaline send exciting jolts through my stomach as we grappled toward our destination.

I could see him, in my mind. His face on the docks, bathed with the flame of his lighter. Hear his voice, full of purpose and noble fury as he promised revenge. I understood his cause, but didn’t understand him, and that was the mystery that poisoned my mind and stole my ability to sleep. Not Red Hood. Jason Todd.

*

Robin and I perched over a factory compound on the water’s edge, Sprang River’s lower fork rushing by at the end of the factory court. A handful of men moved like ants in the flooding white lights that lit the exterior. The wind distorted the sounds of their voices. Robin must have had the same thought because he moved soundlessly to a lower roof panel, advancing on the building. I followed. One man began shouting.

“I’m going to the Northern pylon.” Robin whispered. Divide and conquer. I wasn’t going to argue. I kept my eyes on his silhouetted form to ensure he didn’t encounter any resistance on his way, then worked by way around the court, hoping I could get a good idea of the place before he reached his vantage point. The sky was lightening, and we were losing time.

Just as I was about to check the lot on the opposite side of the factory, a metal door swung open, scraping against the metal parapet. Red Hood walked out, accompanied by a man in a factory jumpsuit. I couldn’t make out their conversation.

I crept along the high factory railing as they meandered across the court, deep in conversation. I kept it up for around six minutes before his companion departed, heading for the lot.

“Robin,” I whispered into my comms. “There’s a man heading toward the parking lot. Trail him.”

“I see him.”

With Robin in the Southern parking lot a safe distance away, I watched Red Hood slowly pull away from the lights and people, heading toward the darker exhaust plants East of the court. It became a struggle to keep and eye on him and my footing at the same time, but I did it. He stopped at a motorcycle parked behind an electric turbine about a klick from the factory. The sky was a pale gray now, ever-lightening with the dawn, and the shadows were burning away with it. I lowered by self behind an electrical box attached to one of the turbines.

“We’re en route- wait, Robin-“ The comms rang in my ear.

“I gave you a direct order.” Batman growled.

“It was a stupid order.” Robin clipped.

“Where’s Batgirl?”

Red was about to replace his red helm with a motorcycle helmet, but paused. He seemed to stall for a moment, before calling out.

“Come here, little bird.”

I was more annoyed than anything. I was ready to be a step ahead of him for once. But then, I couldn’t resent him for giving me what I wanted. I stood, and took in his empty hands before approaching. He’d leaned against the metal turbine, arms crossed as he regarded me with an unreadable expression.

“They’re here, you know.” I warned.

“Call ‘em, then. I won’t move. I know I’m good, but I’d be outnumbered. Bad odds.”

I scowled. “I’m not gonna do that.” I said it because he already knew it. We both did. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“You thought about what I said.”

“Of course I did.”

He glanced around, then pulled himself up straight and moved toward me. I took a few steps back, prompting him to flash me his empty hands, raised in surrender.

“Relax, darlin’.” He said. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. I don’t want you to be. I want you to understand.”

“How? How do I understand?” I’d been trying for a month. He pulled a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket, holding it out and letting me take it, keeping a safe, considerate distance. Inside, was a number.

“Come with me. One job. Nice and easy.” He said.

“I’m not killing anyone.” I said sternly, voice dropping.

“I’m not askin’ you to.”

“And I’m not standing by and letting you kill anyone.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Fine. We’ll do it clean.” I didn’t even know if I believed him. But I was tired of trying to understand him from a safe, considerate distance.

“We’re almost at location. Four minutes.” Nightwing’s voice almost made me jump. I lifted my eyes.

“You need to go.”

He was already turning on his heel.

*

It was two days before I texted him. I got a glorious three hours of sleep over the course of them, and I kept running down either respective fork in my road before turning around and running back. In the end, I subsided to the fact that I was raised by two business-women, and Jason’s offer was at worst an opportunity. If it all went to shit, and he tried to kill me, I’d at least have some information to present to Bruce, notwithstanding the lifetime of punishment that would get me.

Our rendezvous point was in Lower Gotham Proper. By the time I got there, it was midnight, and a rolling mist had blown in from the harbor, mixing with the smog that hugged the streets and making it nearly unsafe to drive. I silently hoped Batman and Robin were okay.

As I worked my way down a narrow street, the moisture in the air was choking; causing the fabric of my pants and jacket to cling to my skin. I’d almost prefer rain to the way the mist stood still, forcing me to muddle through it. It was dark. The lights and signs on surrounding buildings didn’t seem to be able to preserve through the fog.

I saw a figure pressed against a building that looked tall enough to be Jason. As I approached, we regarded each other’s forms apprehensively. When he tilted his head, I knew it was him. I drew close.

“Jesus.” I mumbled. “Could you have picked a spookier place?”

“Don’t tell me you scare easy.” He said through a cigarette. His helmet was in his hand, but it could’ve easily been mistaken for a motorcycle helmet. The whole get-up was kind of biker-esque. I didn’t answer. Just glanced around.

“Come on.” He said. “It’s not far.”

As we began walking, it struck me how much more relieved I felt to hear his footsteps alongside my own. I was capable; willing and able to fight just about anyone Gotham could conjure up. But still, walking with him was comforting. Like I had someone to watch my back.

We even eased into a bit of conversation. Small things- things we agreed upon. Rich society, and Gotham’s war on the poor. Politicians we wouldn’t mind going missing. If you had showed me his picture next his crime scenes, I wouldn’t have pinned him.

Jason wasn’t unpleasant; it was just that his disposition was highly aloof and somewhat irritable. He had rich bronze skin, and full lips that I was sure made for a charming smile when he decided to do so (not a grin, a smile). The composition of his face was very sharp and neatly symmetrical, but still held some gaunt exhaustion, revealed by the constant tense of his jaw. His attentive dark eyes were almost always narrowed in some fashion of distaste. He never once looked at peace.

It seemed to me that he was disinterested in most anything having to do with my life, other than that he wanted me with him. His entire being was an oxymoron; a juxtaposition of unexpectedly soft and startlingly sharp and there wasn’t a way to tell which it would be.

Finally, we approached a small, industrial building with a neon sign of red, blue, and green.

The Lion’s Den

Burlesque and Drag

I raised my eyebrows. A bit on the nose if you asked me. If the name didn’t give it away, the posters and marquees adorning the brick exterior did.

“We need to talk to someone here before we go.” Jason said, pulling on his helmet, and unzipping his brown leather jacket to showcase the bat.

“Lead on.” I said, pulling up my own mask.

The music was so loud, I could barely hear myself think. The led lights lining the ceiling were cycling warm colors; red, pink, orange, yellow, the glow burning through the smokescreen that was nearly as thick as the mist outside.

Women were dancing, in lace or topless, spinning on poles and otherwise moving gracefully to the heartbeat of the place. But that wasn’t the main event- a stage lit with marquee lights, the centerpiece of which was a table, where three women sat. Their outfits were something out of Marie Antoinette’s personal wardrobe. And that’s where Red Hood was headed.

We walked up onto the stage, and while it all sort of mingled with the dim neon in the rest of the building, I still felt oddly seen. I placed myself behind Red Hood, inserted between him and one of the women. They appeared to be playing cards.

“Well, well.” Said one of the queens, with blonde hair curled and blown out like something out of the 70’s. Her exaggerated, colorful makeup was a work of art- Picasso, perhaps. “Gonna stick around for the show this time, sugar?”

Red sat down, leaning so that his arm rested along the back of the chair, lights glinting off his helm. His relaxed composure made me nervous- but perhaps it was the lack of information.

“Not this time, Trixy.” He answered.

“Pity,” Said the broad redhead beside me, her voice a low, soothing timber. “You neva’ do.”

“Don’t be rude, Sasha.” The third woman scolded, throwing down an Ace of Spades, to the visible dismay of the others. “He’s a busy man.”

“Who’s your friend?” Trixy asked.

I glanced at Red Hood before answering. “Just a little bird.”

“How delightful. Let’s get down to the nitty gritty, shall we?” Trixy said. “Did Dominique get the message to ya?”

“Refresh my memory.” Red Hood said- for my sake, I’m sure.

“Bout a week ago, a bunch of girls from the Row went missin’. Ain’t unusual,” Trixy said darkly, “Most don’t got no family or nothin’. Just us lookin’ out for ‘em. When we run outta beds here, that’s when they go missin’. But it’s different this time. Buncha girls all at once- including one ‘a the queens.”

“Tiffany Spice.” Sasha said, a solemn look on her face. “She was just comin’ into herself. Lord, I’d be devastated if somethin’ happened.”

“Some a’ the row girls been talkin’ about this real shifty fella- Baron Haus. New guy. Used to pimp out girls from the Narrows.”

“And the girls disappeared when he showed up.” I said quietly.

“Bingo.”

“How many?” Red asked.

“About eight, Tiffany included.”

“And you know where he was working from?” I inquired.

“Sha’ do. China Town. Club there called the Moonlight.”

Red Hood nodded. “Anything else me and my little bird should know?”

Trixy thought for a moment. “Baron’s got some friends in GCPD. Had some uncles in the force, or somethin’ of that nature. He’ll be missed. More dead.” She spit the term bitterly.

“They always are.” He responded, getting up from his chair.

“And Hoodie, sugar!” She called after us. “You’re a doll for this.” He didn’t reply. As we worked our way back toward the front, he spoke quietly.

“I thought it’d be better if you met ‘em yourself. Always makes it more personal.”

Batman never did that.

“Do you always make it personal?” I asked.

“It’s not fun if it isn’t.”

The freezing moisture in the air bit fiercely as we pushed open the metal screen door.

“Right.” I said. “So, the Moonlight. How are we getting there?”

“How do you think?” He said, stopping short of a rusted yellow fire escape on the side of the building. He surveyed it, then looked at me.

“Race ya.”

With surprising speed and grace, he scaled the fire escape, no sound in his wake.

“Oh, it’s on.” I fired, rushing to the bars and climbing like they were monkey bars. He disappeared over the edge of the roof, and as I made my way up, I saw him several years away, already conquering another building. I raced toward him, leaping over exhaust pipes until we were high above the fog. The city below looked like an illuminated ocean, twinkling lights just below a pillowy white surface.

I felt like a child again, overwhelmed, nearly brought to giddiness with excitement. Was this how Bruce felt, scaling rooftops with Catwoman? The small, but sure thrill of consorting with the bad guy- knowing that they were consorting with you in return?

I wasn’t a sidekick. There was no line to fall into. No predecessors, no successors, no beginning and no end. I moved like Batgirl across the shingles and concrete and metal scaffolding, but I was weightless without the Bat legacy on my chest. There was something deeply, shamefully freeing about that.

*

We were greeted differently in the Moonlight; a stark contrast to the warm welcome by the queens in the Lion’s Den. It was set up more like a smoky, refined gentlemen’s club. We drew attention from every walk of life inhabiting the bar- men in suits, women in silk, and slimy looking characters that grated offensively against the debonair theme.

Most leered for a moment, then cast their eyes away, like they’d seen something they shouldn’t have. Maybe you could consider Red Hood one of those such things.

“Mr. Hood!” There came a voice, cutting above the orchestral music- Nessun Dorma, if my musical sensibilities were still honed from my piano lesson days. “Welcome, welcome. I can only hope,” The man gave gritting smile, wound tight with visible anxiety. “That you’re here on peaceful business tonight.” He cast his nervous, monolid eyes to me. He was handsome, no older than thirty and wore a tight black vest. I didn’t let my body language give anything away; frankly, I was as in the dark as he was.

“Oh, you know me, Baron Jun,” Red Hood drawled, slowing to a halt at the bar, and leaning on it. “I don’t decide whether things stay peaceful or not. That depends on you.” I stayed standing, near his back, studying the security. Two lumbering men at the entrance, one behind Baron Jun. I wouldn’t put it past curvaceous bartender in red to have a gun, too.

“Lookin’ for Baron Haus. I heard a little rumor he works outta this quaint establishment now.”

When I’d considered the Red Hood’s contacts before, I pictured something like Batman’s relationship with Commissioner Gordon- figuring he had to have some corrupt cops or lowlife sleuths packing him with all his vast information. I never would have guessed it would be three drag queens playing cards.

A conflict passed over Baron Jun’s face, seconds long. “You… heard correctly. Word does seem to travel fast.”

“I need to pay him a visit. Remind him about some of my rules.” He admonished. It was a dripping warning, like the salivating jaws of an animal, teeth bared and pointed.

Baron Jun swallowed. “I see. Well, he um- he’s not actually here, at the moment. Maybe I can tell him you dropped b-“

“You know, Jun,” Red continued, ignoring him. “I got this really funny feeling you know what rules I’m talkin’ about.”

The look on his face was something to behold. I’d seen fear, briefly, on the faces of criminals before I subdued them and went on my way. But this was different. Fear induced by nothing but a conversation. Call it hive-mind, a power trip perhaps, but I felt this pesky sense of camaraderie that prompted me to take a few steps forward, shoulder to shoulder with Red Hood. Who was this vile little shitstain who made his living off men getting laid to play games with us? I thought about eight women, scared and abused. It was Baron Jun’s fault. Baron Haus’ fault. Everyone in this stupid bar, decorated to the taste of the men who abused them.

Baron Jun’s eyes dashed back and forth. Deny or ask forgiveness? I could see him running down those cross roads.

“He… he’s been running some shit I didn’t know about until last night. I swear I didn’t fuckin’ know.” He broke at last.

“Where are they?” I piped up.

“Who the fuck are-“ He was cut off with a bang and a scream as Red shot his knee. I was startled by the noise, but no one seemed to notice. It rang in my ear.

Give a girl a warning next time.

“Be. Fucking. Polite.” Red snapped, now advancing on the Baron. Only one of the three security guards decided it was worth the risk and stepped forward. Electric with the building energy of the whole night, I bolted forward and swung my fist into his throat. He made a choked noise and stumbled to the ground.

“Answer the question, Jun.” Red continued, this time in a taunting, sing-song tone.

“Oh, fuck,” Jun whimpered, cradling his knee. “Jesus- you- you shot me.”

“Always were a sharp one. I got a couple more bullets, and you’ve got another knee. So why don’t you sing before I get really impatient.”

“Christ.. they- they’re in the back. R-room fourteen.” His breath was labored with pain. I didn’t feel bad. Trusting that Red would handle the front and keep his promise of not killing anyone, I went to the back hallway, counting the doorways before reaching room 14. I made short work of the lock.

Some scuffling noises could be heard from the front room- but no further gunfire. I opened the door to reveal a velvet lounge, with red settees and satin curtains, along with fearful eyes looking back at me. I counted eight heads, including Tiffany Spice, who’d since abandoned his wig and gaudy attire. His make-up was streaked with long-dried tears.

“Tiffany Spice?” I asked, subservient to standard protocol despite my evening of rebellion.

“What’s going on out there?”

“Trixy sent us. You’re safe now.”

“Are the Barons gone?”

“They’re being dealt with.” I answered.

After finding them, the rest fell into place quickly. Red had indulged in some property destruction, and Baron Jun now reckoned with what appeared to be a shattered hand and some extra facial bruising.

I nodded briskly to Red and he, in turn, nodded to the bartender, who ushered the girls around.

Before departure, he knelt down in front of the Baron.

“You’re alive,” He said lowly. “Cause I’m doin’ someone a favor. If someone breaks the rules again,” He reached over and patted Jun’s pained face. “You be a good boy and come right to me. Okay?” Jun didn’t respond, nor take his bloodshot eyes off of his mangled hand, but Red straightened anyway and ushered me to the door.

Outside, we withdrew safely and quietly to a rooftop.

“Why did we leave them?” I asked.

“Trixy’s not my only contact. The bartender’s mine. She’ll get ‘em where they need to be.”

A beat.

“You knew Baron Haus wasn’t gonna be there.” I said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“That’s the only reason you promised me you wouldn’t kill anyone.”

Hesitation. “Yeah, it is.”

“Are you gonna track him down?” I asked. He didn’t answer. “Seriously.” I tried again. He sighed, then looked at me. I was seeing his eyes clearly for maybe the first time all night. It was sobering, and he held my gaze.

“Yes. Yes, I’m going to kill him.” He said firmly. I looked away.

“He’s got a track record.” He explained. “Does shit like this, gets caught, and then uses his friends in blue to get a lighter sentence. Three months, maybe. Then, he’s back. I’m not the first one to catch him. But I promise you, I’ll be the fuckin’ last.” His vitriol was oil on concrete, and I decided it was better not to light any matches. The rest of the walk was quiet, neither of us making the catalytic initiative to part ways, coming down from the adrenaline the way we’d built it; in each other’s uncertain company.

*

We settled on top of St. Luke’s Hospital, towering defiantly amidst the smaller, crowded inner city neighborhoods below. It was 4am, but I wasn’t tired. Quite the opposite; I was awash with energy, by grace of the night’s feat and the biting cold. Jason had pulled his helmet off, and was leaning against the steel exhaust pipe, myself nestled at his side.

“I have another place I need to go. Three days- Mafia business in Little Italy.” He said.

“And you want me to come?” I asked. He tipped his head.

“What can I say, doll? You’re good at this.”

I looked over the city, brow furrowing.

“Unless,” He added in a low voice, wry and challenging. “You think it’s wrong. I am the bad guy, aren’t I?”

I didn’t look at him, because I knew he was wearing a darkly arrogant expression, and I didn’t want to see it. No, there was nothing wrong about what we did tonight. Even if there was; I’d do it all again for the relief on Tiffany’s tear-streaked face.

“I’ll go.” I said. “But you have to tell me something. Honestly.” I said firmly, bringing my eyes to meet his. He cocked an eyebrow.

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Why don’t you hate me like you hate them?” Them. My family. Our family. Hate seemed a harsh word, but only after I supplied it, was I reminded of its truth. Jason studied me for a few agonizing moments, allowing only the sound of wind and distant, crying sirens.

“Carolyn Crawford.” He finally said.

“What?”

Carolyn Crawford.

I’d forgotten all about her. My life was sort of divided by this giant, barbed wire fence between before adoption and after adoption. Evidently, my brain decided that anything before adoption would be better of folded up, sealed with wax, and filed away. Traumatic memory suppression, the shrink Bruce sent me to called it- even though the only traumatic thing was the night my parents died, not everything that came before.

Nonetheless, Carolyn Crawford was somebody I hadn’t given any particular thought to in a long time. She was a woman of forty (at the time I was thirteen), and she had that snooty, Diamond District disposition that you only find in women who marry into wealth, but aren’t born with it. She was beautiful; pale skin, thin, with an air of 1950’s suave, accentuated by the auburn bob of artificial curls she always wore. Her husband was an investor in Wayne Enterprises, and she was sleeping with Bruce.

I had no reason to know, or care about this. But Jason did. When he found out, he was uncharacteristically devastated. I could imagine, in retrospect, that when you’re a boy of fifteen and you find out the man who adopted you- a man who was a holyfigure in your eyes, the good guy- was sleeping with a married woman ten years his senior, you may experience a bit of devastation. He had something, some virtuous perception of Bruce, ripped away from him, and he was given a concept that his father, too, had vices. His one vice; women.

Jason was angry. He wanted the world’s perception of Bruce to crumble alongside his own, and so he took all the valor in his teenage body and enacted his own justice.

An anonymous email was sent to just about every company partner or investor, including Carolyn’s husband, and my parents, disclosing a picture of Bruce in some secluded room at a gala, with his arm around Carolyn’s waist, leaning intimately into her ear. She had a wry smile on her face. Above the photo was a single tag line.

“Carolyn Crawford is fucking Bruce Wayne.”

My parents gossiped about the email, of course, when they thought I wasn’t leaning against the office door. But that was all I ever knew about it. Apparently Carolyn’s husband didn’t divorce her, but he did cut her off financially, which may as well have been the same loss.

That was all I heard of it, up until a charity event on a particularly cold January night. The January before Jason’s death. I was waltzing around as per usual, a cup of punch in my hand. Waiting for the clock to tick its way to eleven o’clock- when I knew my mothers would want to depart so they could get up for work the next morning. The music was lovely; fluttering strings.

“You!” It was a harsh sound, like a shrieking banshee, or the whining note of a violin when all the bow hairs are frayed.

Carolyn Crawford was marching right toward Jason, fury on her beautiful face. I didn’t catch the beginning of the conversation as I tried to make my way through the bodies, of which a few were also alarmed by the sound.

“...you’re the only one who could’ve done it, you little- don’t lie to me!”

Jason was defiant there, with his arms crossed and his lip slightly raised, but I could tell by the nervous look in his eye that she was pointing her bony finger at the right suspect. I’m certain it was Bruce who figured it out.

“What the hell are you talking about, lady?” He said.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know you sent that email. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“You’re outta your mind.”

“You’re going to regret this, I promise. I’m going to make sure that this follows you-“

“He didn’t send the email!” I said, pushing past a man who was eagerly watching, like it was the best thing he’d seen all night. I’m not even sure what possessed me to offer up the statement- maybe the way she was throwing her venom in his face and jabbing her finger at his chest.

“I did it.” I said. I didn’t look at Jason, but from the corner of my eye, I could see his mouth fall open. Carolyn Crawford turned on me.

“What?”

“I sent the email.” I said. We’d drawn more observers now, a small, hushed crowd of people too polite to intervene, but too curious to look away.

“Who the hell are you? And why would you do that?” Up close, I could see that she looked like she hadn’t slept. Other little things too; a pearl out place, stray hairs. She’d probably been through hell since Jason sent that email.

I leveled my gaze on her. “You really need to ask? What kind of wife-“

Slap.

Her open palm swung across my cheek so hard that I nearly stumbled into a donation table. There was a pressure in my ear, and then a stinging sensation. I put my hand to my cheek, and when I looked back up at her, she was eyeing the shocked crowd. Then, she turned, and walked briskly toward the exit, heels clicking on the marble.

Everyone stood there, looking at me. I flushed, shrinking under the weight of their eyes, feeling like an animal in a zoo. My mothers were nowhere to be found, and neither was Bruce.

In a swift movement, Jason grabbed my hand, shooting angry glares like daggers toward anyone who was looking, and ushered me into a secluded corner.

“Why did you do that? What the hell is wrong with you?” He whispered frantically, obviously battling whether he should touch my face or not. He decided not.

I gave him an insulted look. “I was helping you, jackass!”

“Well, you didn’t help!” He said, before adding, more exasperatedly. “You just got hurt.”

I shrugged, taking my hand off my cheek, probably to show him some modicum of strength, or defiance. “It’s not that bad.”

It was that bad. It was the first time I had ever been hit, by anybody. I actually wanted to cry. But I was dedicated to my tough girl role, so I didn’t.

“I’m sorry.” He said, surprising me with the fearful apologeticism in his voice. “I’m really sorry- you shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve said something. I just fuckin’ stood there like-“

“Hey! It’s okay. I did it because I wanted to. Besides, it really doesn’t matter who did what. She’s just mad she ruined her own marriage.”

He shook his head and slunk down beside me on the cold marble. The AC was offensively imposing for the middle of January, and I hugged my knees to my chest as we watched the guests disperse, dragging back the events of the night to gossip about later, like foxes carry prized rabbits.

*

“Carolyn Crawford?” I repeated. “That’s what this is about?”

Jason gave me a wiry look, a lopsided smile, then threw his head back and laughed, contagiously so. I let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“I mean,” He added, “Not all of it. A little.” There was residual laughter in his tone, and it made me want to lean into him.

“A ‘little’. Okay. Should I be getting in touch with Carolyn Crawford and thanking her for rekindling this little partnership?”

“Yeah.” He said. “Send her an email.”

I laughed again. “Seriously, Jason, what the fuck are you talking about?”

His grin lingered, and his eyes fell over the city. I could see the gears turning as he considered his response. Then he just shrugged.

“You covered for me.”

“Yeah.”

“And...” He leaned back, not taking his eyes from the sprawling lights. “Somethin’ tells me you still are.”

I looked at him for a while, trying to wait him out and make him elaborate. But he didn’t. I resigned with a sigh.

“Yeah, well.” I mumbled. “Carolyn Crawford was a giant bitch.” His lips fought a losing battle against another smile.

“Personally, I’m still a little impressed she had the gall to slap you.”

“Haha. Hey- did you actually take that picture?”

He shook his head, hesitating before adding. “Dick did.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” He chuckled.

“So I took the fall for both of you.”

“Yeah, you did, Princess.”

He had this familiar, juvenile grin stuck to his face. And for the first time in a long, long time, he was Jason Todd.

[pinapple-qween]

I’m Capable!

Relationship: Jason Todd x Reader (angstyyyyyyyy)

Summary:  Hi! Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader goes on her first mission and Jason gets like super overprotective and they fight about it

Author: wazzup nerds, I’m back!

Key: Y/N= your name, L/N= your last name, S/H/N= your superhero name

Warnings!: Language, death

After months of training and researching in the safety of the BatCave, Bruce finally agreed to let you go on patrol. You seemed to excel at helping Batman stop street crime, so much so that Bruce approached you one evening, before leaving for patrol, and took you aside.

“Y/N, you’ve been a real help keeping Gotham’s streets free of crime as S/H/N. I’m proud of how far you’ve come and all the training you’ve put into this,” Bruce gave you a smile, his highest sign of pride, and continued, “Would you want to join us on the next mission? Before you say anything, I want you to know that missions are way more dangerous then patrol. Things can go wrong very easily on a mission.” Bruce looked you up and down. “What do you say?”

You took a deep breath, you knew this was going to be difficult but it wasn’t anything you felt you couldn’t handle. You looked Bruce in the eyes and sternly stated, “Yes. I’m in.”

Weeks before your mission with Batman and the Batboys, you were continually debriefed by Tim and trained harder by Dick and Damian than you’d ever trained with them before. It was to the point were you had to disappear if you wanted any alone time. The only person who seemed to ignore you was Jason, which wasn’t surprising. 

You and Jason never really got along, you always felt as if Jason thought you didn’t belong with them. Maybe it was because you were a girl. Maybe it was because he just didn’t really take to newcomers. You don’t think you’ll ever know the reason, but you weren’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

One of the times, three days before the mission, you were trying to hide out and get a little peace and quiet, you ran smack dab into Jason. You stumbled backwards from the solid mass and looked at who you ran into. When you saw it was Jason, and Jason had recognized you, you both grimaced.

“Watch where you’re walking,” he grumbled.

“Whatever,” you mumbled back. You went to continue walking but he grabbed your arm. “What?”

Jason’s face distorted in a compassionate kind of way before it returned to his normal scowl. “Don’t go on the mission. You’ll get hurt.”

Surprised by the comment, your eyebrows shot up. “W-what?”

Spinning you around to face him face to face, Jason leaned down to be eye level with you. “Don’t. Go.”

If his tone wasn’t so patronizing, you would’ve thought Jason actually cared about your well-being. But alas, he sounded like he wasn’t happy that you were tagging along. Angrily, you spat, “I can do what I want. I’m capable of anything! You have no say in where I go or what I do. You aren’t the boss of me!” You snatched your arm away from Jason’s grip and stormed off.

The day of the mission, the entire manor seemed to be on edge. Changes were being made to the plans every hour until everything was perfect, or as close to perfect as they could get. You did your best to help out or be out of the way, so everything could get done.

You sat in the living room, trying to focus on reading, glancing at the clock every few minutes. You tapped your foot as your eyes read and reread the same paragraph over and over. Time was moving as slow as it could until you heard feet trot down the hall towards the living room. In walked Tim, his hair raggedy and his eyes zooming over a stack of papers.

“Everything ready,” you asked, setting your book face down on the side table.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Tim sighed, “Y/N, this is one of the most important missions I’ve ever had to help plan and I’m nervous.”

You gave a little giggle, “Everyone gets nervous Tim.”

Tim looked at you seriously, “You don’t understand. I’m never nervous because I always have a solid and flexible plan. But this,” he smacked the papers,” this is complete nonsense!”

You lifted your eyebrows at his outburst. “Do you not believe in Bruce?”

Tim sighed even deeper than before, “It’s not that. It’s because this is so dangerous that I want to make sure no one will get hurt or worse.” With those words his eyes had shifted off of you and to the floor.

Your face got red with frustration and a little bit of anger as Tim inadvertently reminded you of your run in with Jason. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” You watched Tim’s face develop a blush as you stood from your chair and walked out of the room, going to the Batcave to wait for the debriefing.

Dick, Damian, Jason, Barbara, Stephanie, Tim, Bruce, and yourself as sat around the debriefing table in the Batcave and listened to Bruce go completely over the plan.

“Everyone understand?” Bruce waited for nods. “Good, okay, now for teams. Tim?”

Tim stood up, “Dick and Babs you’ll start here in the cave then Dick will hit the field after Babs works her magic. Damian you’re with Bruce, as per usual. Steph, you and me are strike team 1,” he pauses as Steph lets out a ‘yes!’, “that makes Jason and Y/N as strike team 2.”

Internally, you are groaning for a thousand years. Out of everyone in this cave and on this team, you got stuck with Jason. Jason! The one person out of everyone who didn’t want you on this mission is your teammate. Oh the how the fates like to mess you up.

After hating life for a moment, you look at Jason and see the he doesn’t seem phased. It’s probably because Tim told him that he’d have to deal with you before this and he prepared himself for it. You guessed he got all of his groaning out before hand.

Bruce spoke up again, “Get with your teammate and be prepared to leave in the next few minutes, I need to talk to Alfred then we’ll be off. Remember, you and your teammate are integral to this mission. Protect each other. It’s about to get dangerous.”

You and Jason walk over to your bikes. He stops you before you reach your bike. “You heard Bruce, this is going to be dangerous. Back out now. You aren’t going to be safe.”

Your face starts boiling. “He also said we’re all integral parts of this mission. I’m just as important as you are. We also have to protect each other, remember that?” You got right into his face.

Jason remained calm which infuriated you even more. “I’m trying to protect you before something bad happens,” his scowl makes his words mean nothing.

You watch Bruce walk to the Batmobile. You stare Jason right in his eyes, “Time to go.”

No one knows where it went wrong. No one knows how it went wrong. All anyone knows is that is went off the walls wrong.

The last thing you remember was Jason and you making your way to your ambush positions, but there was no one there. That was when you heard the sirens and the spotlights shown on you and him.

“S/H/N we gotta move! Go, go, go!” You ran ahead of Jason barely as he fired on the oncoming rouges. When he had a second, he yelled into his comm, “S/H/N and I are under heavy fire, requesting back up.”

Through static you heard Bruce’s voice, “We can’t get through to you guys! You need to retreat, get out of there!”

You see a clear ally and grab Jason’s arm, “Through here!” You drag him through and hit a wall. “Shit!” You spin around and watch as you two begin to be surrounded. Bruce’s words echo through your head, Protect each other. You look at Jason, “Red Hood, you climb. I’ll hold them off and when you reach the top, send down a rope. Got it?”

Even with his mask on, you could see the frown as he shook him head. “Red Hood! I’m not asking! Just do it.”

Begrudgingly, you watch as he began to scale the wall, one thing you knew you were bad at. I’ll have to work on that, you thought. It wasn’t until you saw blow back close to Jason’s foot that you remembered your job. You had to protect.

Jason looked down from his climbing and watch as you took on the advancing forces, encouraging him to pic up his pace. He knew you shouldn’t have come. He told Bruce. He told Tim. He told Dick, Damian, Steph, Babs, anyone he thought would listen, but no one did. He couldn’t lose you.

He swung his leg on top of the roof, readying a rope to throw down, when he watched you get hit. He didn’t see where it went, but it didn’t look good from the way you reacted. “Y/N!” He saw you turn and he dropped the rope down to you. He watched you grab it and he pulled you up to him. All he could think was to get you out of there.

Once he did, Jason grabbed your arm and started to run with you. He noticed that you were slowing down and, without a second thought, scooped you up into his arms. “Come on! We got to get out of here,” he looked at you an noticed how pale you were getting. “Y/N, stay with me. I promised to protect you damn it.”

You two were at your bikes when Jason set you back down, but you couldn’t stand. It was at that point that Jason realized you were shot in the stomach. “Shit!” Jason spoke into the comm, “Bruce, Y/N got shot and she isn’t looking good. We’re at our bikes, get here now!” Bruce replied but Jason was laser focused on you.

“Y/N I told you this was gonna be too dangerous. Why wouldn’t you listen to me? I love you and I wanted to keep you safe!” Jason’s head fell and he felt his tears start streaming down his cheeks.

A voice that sounded softer than the wind, whispered, “You love me?”

Jason fell to his knees, helmet discarded, and looked you in the eyes, “Always have.” He listen to you chuckled but it tuned into sour coughing. “Please, you gotta stay with me. I can’t lose you.”

You looked like you were about to say something, but Jason watched as your head lobed to the side. Lifeless.

And Jason sobbed over you forever.