#and no matter if jason comes back from the dead if dick makes up for it w tim and dami

[aviatrickss]

*takes a deep breath and leans in so close that my lips touch the microphone*

the tragedy of dick and jason’s relationship as brothers is not that they hated each other and then jason died, or that they were super close and then jason died. the tragedy is that dick did not know enough about jason to know how to mourn him. were they brothers? were they rivals? dick sure doesn’t know, and jason doesn’t either! but it’s fine bc they have plenty of time to figure that shit out, they don’t need to know each other right now bc there will be time to know each other later.

except.

[bluerosefox]

Ghost Marriage Allows More Than One!

Tim wakes up in a hotel room in Vegas snuggled against a chest but he wasn't surprised.

He had been in the Sin City for a WE meeting and had brought Bernard along the trip since Tim's birthday was just shy a few days into it and well he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend since most of his family were off world (Dick, Jason, and Bruce all had important missions and they all apologized for missing out and Tim couldn't blame them he understood and he himself couldn't get out of the Vegas meetings no matter what he tried to do.) Or couldn't come to join him (Damian had school as did Duke and Alfred was taking care of them while the others were gone. Steph and Cass were out of country working with some important things with Babs and again he understood.) (Did it still sting yes but they all promised to make it up when they got back, Alfred even promised a coffee cake just for him)

So yeah, Vegas meeting trip turned somewhat birthday fun with his boyfriend. And since Bernard has always been good with encouraging Tim to try things it came to no surprise that during their stay he had managed to convince Tim to try drinking for the night.

Yes terrible influence Bernard was sometimes, but he did make a point. Tim was an adult now and sometimes it's okay to at least try adult dumb stuff, he didn't have to like it and could stop if he really didnt want to but he can at least say he tried it once. That it was okay for Tim to let go of his vigilante brain and just have fun in the one city that was made for it.

So try Tim did. Just for the night.

So yeah, Tim wasn't really surprised when he woke up the next morning, alcohol aftertaste on his breath, head pounding, nose scrunched up from the light of the sun peeking in from the curtains, and snuggling himself into a rather chilly chest...

Wait...

Chilly?

Tim opened his eyes when he realized that. Bernard never felt cold to Tim when they would snuggle, no he was always warm, like a warm heating blanket. It was why Tim loved snuggling him. Why was he-

Tim's eyes widened when he saw not blonde hair on the body in the bed with him but black hair. He almost flung himself off the bed from him startling awake and watched the one he had been snuggled next to mumble in his sleep and turn over.

Tim felt pure dread as he continued to stare, his stomach turning as his thoughts got bad, oh god..God... did he... oh no, no, no no. Oh where was Bernard- FUCK did he really-

Tim flinched when he heard a door open and snapped his eyes towards it. He felt his mouth go dry when he spotted his boyfriend coming out of what was the bathroom of the room and had just finished taking a shower from the sounds of left over dripping water and from the towel he was using to clean his hair.

Bernard stopped in his spot when he noticed Tim staring at him before he gave Tim a very uneasy chuckle, his eyes darting towards the sleeping body on the bed "H-Hey, good morning T. I see you... uhh seen our guest."

Tim felt ready to cry, to beg for forgiveness, but the only sound that came out was a strangled sound because of course he fucked up and ruined one of the best things that ever happened to him and-

But before he could spiral further into his anxiety and dread Bernard kept speaking.

"So ummm. Do you also remember meeting Danny at the bar, getting really tipsy, hanging out, having fun and then like going to a ghost bar with him so he could really drunk because he's like half ghost. And I mean like a legit ghost bar, like we saw Elvis and Marilyn Monroe there and they were like floating. Then we all got like super mega drunk and then... maybe kinda sorta got ghost married... because ghost marriage allows unlimited spouses cause you know, already dead doesn't matter and it's also almost permanent cause again the whole dead thing... Or did I hallucinate all that last night and we just brought in a random stranger to bed?" He asked his voice unsure as he looked between Tim and the stranger Danny in bed before lifting his hand up and showing Tim a glowing ring on it. "I'm pretty sure I didn't dream it up because I kinda woke up with this, and it refuses to come off."

Tim went silent for a moment, wide eyed as he stared back at Bernard before the pounding headache he had hit him harder than ever when the very memories of everything Bernard had said came flooding back to him. With a gasp Tim quickly looked st his own hand and sure enough on his finger was a matching glowing wedding band on it, his eyes snapped towards Danny... Danny Nightingale? Or was it Phantom? said his name was and spotted another matching one as well.

"B is going to kill us." Was the only thing Tim could muster up to say.

[gay-dorito-dust]

We all know how loaded Bruce is, it’s a well known fact that he’s loaded to the high heavens.

So with that out of the way, when he sees your eyes lingering on something you’d like but don’t have to money for *cough* a £48/£58 plush *cough* Bruce will memorise the name of the store, the product you wanted and buy it on your behalf and have it sent to you under his name.

£48/£58 is mere pocket change to this man and will wave off any and all attempts you make in trying to gift him back for it. You wanted the plush and all he did was buy it for you, as to Bruce there was no need for you to go out of your way to repay him.

Just accept the plush and that’ll be all the repayment he’ll ever need. (He always when it comes to people trying to repay him for a simple act.)

Not use to tender, caring touches you’d give out that he kind of flinches away at first, holding his breath and all of his muscles stiffens upon reflex. However if you were to give him time, he’ll slowly begin to relax and unclench his jaw and relaxes his muscles as he releases a sigh while easing into your touch; practically putty in your hands as your thumbs caresses just under his eyes and across his darkening eye bags.

This man has never know a day of rest in his entire life. He firmly believes that Gotham is his responsibility 24/7 and feels partially responsible for how the town came to be the way it was. So showing him basic affection and kindness is kind of foreign to him, but he comes to greatly appreciate those aspects of yours and finds himself wanting more but never knowing how to ask.

Now just imagine this 6’2 man awkwardly scuffling next to you as he internally deducts the best possible way to ask you to hold him, all the while you could only become worried with how intently he was staring at your arms. You didn’t want to say anything because of the instance that you might be crossing a boundary of his, whereas Bruce was severely struggling in trying to get across his want for you to initiate the first move.

The air between you two being filled with a kind of awkwardness that didn’t make the situation any less stressful for the both of you either. However this gets better with time also, much like everything else did the longer you stay with Bruce.

Every Robin he’s ever had held a place in his old heart.

From dick all the way to Damian, each and every one of them were his soft spot, they were his kids and very much still are his kids despite being all grown up! So when Bruce sees you get along with any of them, it’s guaranteed to melt his heart seeing the people he cares for most in his life getting along. His dead set face may seem unchanged by the interaction but just know that internally he’s planning more situations where you’d get to interact with one or all of them.

And if you look close enough, you’ll be all to see the beginnings of a smile beginning to stretch across his face, destined to grow an inch bigger as he watched you interact with the rest of the family. Bruce would watch how you’d laugh and smile to whatever Dick was saying, how incredibly attentive you are with Damian and his artwork, and how understanding and thoughtful you were towards Jason and his reasonings and so on.

Bruce is a softy. A teddy bear if you will.

He’s not always a brooding dude, especially not when he was with you. He’d actually smile, chuckle and even make a rare joke from time to time.

You’re his personal pillow bc this man is severely allergic to proper sleep like the fucking insomniac that he is.

I wish I was joking but I’m not, you’re his personal pillow that helps aid him into a dreamless slumber but don’t be surprised at how tightly he’d hold onto you in his sleep.

Also he’s adamant in sleeping with his back towards the door and is also adamant that your back was pressed against the wall for protective reasonings. It didn’t matter that you’d often remind him that Wayne Manor was probably the safest place to be in Gotham, especially with all the securities put in place, but Bruce was adamant on the fact that your protection should come first even when sleeping.

He’s protective to an almost suffocating amount. Being Batman who had his own rouges gallery of villains was one thing and to be expected, but being Bruce Wayne came with it’s own form of dangers that were out to get him and anyone in association. So needless to say that you were under constant observation no matter where you went, and it was all in due to Bruce’s inherent distrust towards anyone he wasn’t well acquainted with.

He’s got a tracker on you and will watch the screen with a serious look upon his face as his eyes follows you on your route home for abnormalities of any kind, all the while keeping tabs on a open radio channel for any signs of criminal activity within the areas that you were walking.

Bruce doesn’t take your safety lightly and wouldn’t like it if you didn’t take your safety nearly as seriously as he does. So don’t even attempt to make jokes about it because Bruce will take it in full offence, for to him there was a time and place for making jokes but making jokes regarding your safety wasn’t one of them.

[confused-wanderer]

After several posts and headcanons and theories, I have come to a conclusion: Dick and Jason have a more or less similar relationship to Steve and Bucky. Think about it.

The “Golden boy” and “sweetheart” who is constantly praised and looked upto, yet only the other one truly knows how feral the other is cuz they knew them long before shit hit the fan and they KNOW that chaotic gremlin hasn’t gone- it’s just been better at not getting caught.

IMAGINE:

Jason coming back from the dead just to hear everyone talking about Dick as if he’s a God, and stopping himself from dragging his brother down there cuz only ONE of them has put people in hospitals, left every criminal with PTSD and Jason aint it. Sure, he’s making up for it but Dicks got a fucking head start.

Jason being the only one who can see right thru Dicks bullshit and is full aware of chaotic-feral-no-self-preservation-don’t-believe-me-then-WATCH Dick fucking Grayson. It’s why during operations he loves pairing up with Dick cuz the guy has sheer unconventionality and Jason is HERE for it.

Some new hero: Oh my god Nightwing’s so calm and always knows what he’s doing!

Jason *flashbacks to last night when Dick tried to cook pasta and ended up blasting his bathtub and frantically calling Jason over while the pasta kept exploding in the background and he didn’t want to piss off Alfred*

Justice league: Nightwing always knows the right things to do, and knows how to act in every situation.

Jason *thanking god his mask was on so no one could see him dying cuz before he died Dick had literally stolen the Batmobile and allowed Jason to joyride; was also the same person who taught Jason how to hit clean cuts and decimate any opponent by any, and I mean ANY means necessary*

New teen titans: Gah Nightwing is so professional!!

Jason *remembers when Dick yelled “want some GROUND for your coffee DIRTBAG?!” Before throwing sand in their faces and absolutely demolishing them by fighting dirtier than Jason had seen anyone*

And Dicks grateful cuz Jason’s the person all his guard crumbles in front of. One who knows what he’s thinking, knows the real him. Someone he doesn’t have to pretend in front of, and would help him no matter what happens, even if he gets a earful later.

Jason’s the mother hen, and Dicks the idiot who would throw himself in danger every chance he gets.

It’s also why all the OG teen titans and Jason both meet up for tea just to talk about Dicks shit and silently agree to form an alliance. It’s their bonding point and now they hang out a lot too.

Dick has a feeling something’s going on, but he’s too afraid to ask.

[ghost-bxrd]

PROMPT.

WARNING: Suicide attempt.

Been on a 'Theatre Kid Jason back from the dead, goes on gaslight mode for revenge' fic binge. Especially loved your version of that.

Only, the thing is... this is Gotham. Mindgames have a way of going really really wrong, especially when it comes to dealing with a bunch of should-have-been-in-therapy-last-decade folks like our Bats.

Jason targets Dick, first. Maybe Bruce is away on a Justice League mission or something.

Starts calling him from burnerphones, appearing randomly as a (fake)blood and dirt coated walking corpse, etc. Intending to reduce Dick to a mess.

Only, Dick has been on some mission with a supernatural touch. Maybe something to do with restless spirits. He doesn't think Jason is a hallucination, he believes it is his dead brother back for revenge.

To make matters worse, Dick gets unknowingly exposed to a bit of Fear Toxin somehow - and actually begins hallucinating Jason's broken corpse talking to him. He doesn't think to check his blood for toxin, because he checked the first couple of times Jason turned up. So he figures this is real too.

But this being fear toxin, Hallucination!Jason is way horribler than the real one. Keeps telling Dick, that it was his fault, all his fault. Tells him that life for a life is fair, that he should kill himself if he is actually sorry about letting Jason die.

And Dick, messed up from the toxin and convinced this is really his little brother...tries just that.

Real!Jason, on his usual gaslighting trip, turns up to find Dick unconscious and bleeding out, having slit his wrists according to Hallucination!Jason's command.

Jason naturally panics, forgets all about the plan and the being dead part, and ends up rushing into the Batcave with Dick's unconscious body in his arms, screaming for Alfred and scaring Tim half out of his wits.

Leaving this here :)

[bluegarners]

no but on a more serious note, and i've touched on it before in a fic, dick's freedom from batman, gotham, the restrictions of robin, came at the price of a life. we could debate all day on whether or not jason todd would have eventually died had he never become robin, but the fact is that he absolutely did and he absolutely did die as robin. maybe the conditions of his death weren't a direct product of being robin, but it absolutely did happen the way it happened bc the role of robin was vacant, and bruce was in active denial over how much dick leaving messed him up, and dick was desperate for a way out of the chains he had found himself in. his freedom, his life away from what he grew up believing was what he always wanted, came at the price of another little boy that he barely knew and only knew bc he was your replacement. you are robin and robin dies except it's. not. you. who dies. someone wearing your costume, living in your home, calling your father his own father, protecting your city, your people-- dies in your name

and then, after he dies, another little boy comes to you and says "you have to go back. you have to be robin again". and you can't bear it, you can't go through it again, you're hoping against hope that robin stays dead forever bc if you couldn't keep it alive, who could? and then that little boy, after trying to get you to fill the vacancy, becomes robin in your place. because you won't do it. and you already know what's going to happen, what's going to keep happening, but you've already sacrificed so much, you've already given up all that you are, all that you were, to live the life you now have, but it feels so goddamn selfish. you could go back, you could make things right, you could make it so that no one else will ever have to bear the mantle of robin ever again, ensuring that no one else dies with the name your mother gave to you

but you dont. and you cant. so it keeps happening. over and over again. you cannot protect them in any way that matters.

[pinkcowzz]

something about tim & dick’s relationship makes me feel so. !!!

they are both such complex characters and it really makes my heart feel so heavy to think about them for too long.

like. dick created robin out of his parents blood. the costume was inspired by his family's colors. the name was one he was given by his mother and the only reason he took up the role was because he wanted to get justice (revenge really) for his parents death. he was taken in by bruce who was SO YOUNG at the time and who was still learning how to cope with his own loss still. their relationship was built off of that shared grief and understanding. but then one day, dick learned to let go of that grief. he was able to not let it consume and control him. and he grew tired of living in the dark nest that bruce built for them. and bruce doesn't know how to deal with someone else he loves leaving him so he kicks dick out. like yes bruce is dick's father figure of course he is. but he was also his brother in a weird way. dick didn't want or need for his parents to be replaced so bruce offered him something different. he offered him a partnership. and partners are supposed to be equal but somehow bruce ended up placing himself higher than dick and it was suffocating so he had to leave.

and in dicks absence, bruce finds another kid. this time, it's a kid who does need a parent. jason's relationship with bruce is so different than the one that dick had and i have to imagine that it hurt. it hurts to see your father be better for someone else. it makes you think why? why not me? why wasn't i good enough? and to make matters worse bruce gave away dick's blood without a second thought. jason is given the mantle of robin and my god i cannot imagine the pain it caused dick to see someone else flying around in his colors. that was his name. and dick is still just a kid. yeah he's like legally an adult but his prefrontal cortex was nowhere near developed. so he's bitter and short and rude to jason. he has to take time to get used to having another kid at the manor and another kid in his colors but its fine! its fine! he does come around eventually and his guard starts to come down and he commits to being there for jason. but it was too late. dick leaves the planet to be a hero and when he comes back? jason is dead. the kid he was just starting to get used to is dead.

not only is he dead, but he's already in the ground and bruce? bruce goddamn wayne didn't even bother to tell him. how in the world could bruce ever consider them partners. as far as dick was concerned bruce was just as good as dead to him as jason was. and it hurts. it hurts to not be able to go home without seeing the ghost of a kid you chose not to protect, the ghost of a kid who died too soon wearing the same colors that your parents died in.

so dick doesn't go home. he doesn't speak to bruce. he builds himself a new life, the teen titans become dicks home. and he's okay with this. his origin is so similar to bruce's but he refuses to be the same as batman. so he faces his ghosts. he doesn't let them haunt him. he hears about haly's circus potentially getting shut down and he goes to deal with it.

and here is where dick meets tim drake for the first time. tim who tried to help him save haly's circus (albeit he accused the wrong guy but he was trying). tim tells dick that he needs to save batman.

and so dick brings him back to the manor. where tim tells dick just how important he was to his childhood. tim explains how that night at the circus shaped him just as deeply as it shaped dick. tim shares this complete and utter faith in robin, as if robin is enough to save batman from his own grief. but dick knows this isn't true. dick was barely enough to save himself from his own grief much less bruces. but nonetheless bruce saved dick when he was at his absolute lowest. gave him something to believe in. so maybe, just maybe, he can try again for bruce. but not as robin. it can't be robin. his partnership with batman died when he was kicked out and it was buried when he was kept out of the loop about jason. but tim knows that batman needs more than nightwing by his side. so he takes up the robin mantle. he takes it upon himself to 'save' batman. and in a way, he does. he helps bring bruce back from the edge.

and dick. the last time someone took up his families colors, someone died. and he refuses to allow that again. he refuses to be the reason that tim suffers. so he becomes the older brother he couldn't quite bring himself to be for jason. and to tim? he's wearing the mantle of two robins on his back.

his own standards are set so high and he tries his damndest to meet them every time that he puts on the mask because he knows where the colors of the suit came from. he knows why dick created this identity. he was there. he saw the grayson's fall.

and for a while, things are good between them. things are great even.

then the attack at titan's tower happens. and tim is told that he is just a placeholder (not a replacement like fannon likes to claim, but the words jason todd used were placeholder). and seeds of doubt start to be planted. was he ever wanted? was he ever truly appreciated? he did steal the suit the first time he put it on. was it fair for him to wear the colors that were born of dicks blood and that jason died in?

then tim loses his whole support system. stephanie. bart and kon. his dad. and finally, bruce.

dick has been so committed to never being like bruce. he has been so dedicated to relying on those who offer him help. nightwing is pillar in the hero community, but batman. batman was the foundation. he is considered a founding member of the justice league. he doesn't want to take up the mantle. it had never been in his plans. but jason proved too unstable to take up the role and of course he can't ask tim to. so he dawns the cowl he has grown to hate.

this just leaves one little problem. damian.

damian who has just been dropped off on bruce's porch by talia. damian who grew up in the league of assassins and is so out of place in gotham that dick doesn't know what to do. he never asked to be batman and he definitely never asked to be a father. yet here he is. having to do both. so he does what bruce did all those years ago and provides damian with the mantle that he created in order to give this kid some sort of outlet. he knows damian needs it.

by some unfortunate twist of fate, dick has unknowingly created such a painful parallel between his own firing and tim's.

and then tim discovers that bruce isn't really dead.

and this kills dick just a little bit more. of course he wants to believe tim. of course he wants his dad back. he wants someone else to be the one to make these hard calls and he wants someone else to parent damian. he doesn't want to be the one who has to fire his little brother in order to save the other.

but he can't take that chance. he can't risk the hope. because losing it would actually ruin dick. so he tells tim it isn't possible. because to dick? it can't be possible.

and this just furthers the wedge between the two of them. tim feels abandoned and lost and he feels as if he has nothing left.

and dick doesn't understand why tim can't see that he's right here. he's right here tim i'm still here why aren't i enough for you to stay?

anyway this got away from me a little bit but god their relationship could make angels weep it truly makes my heart stop if i think about it too much.

[sleepyangelkami]

Hello, I just wanted to say that I loved what you wrote about Dick Grayson, I hope you continue to write more about him, I love him so much.

CALLER ID d.grayson

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 3K

DICK GRAYSON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - when dick was on patrol, he got an unexpected message from you. however, no matter how hard you try to brush him off, your boyfriend always seems to know when there's a problem and what to do about it.

 ☆ WARNINGS - mentions of violence, jason's attitude problem, crying, reader has insomnia, petnames, use of 'good girl' (non-sexual), intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

patrol was so slow tonight.

it was times like these where dick dazed off at something he couldn't quite make out, a far away building or even something in the sky. his thoughts drifted to you, his sweet girlfriend that had barely whined when he removed her arms from around him, stating that he just had to get to patrol. however, as soon as he was heading out the door, suited up, you'd rolled over and fell back to sleep.

dick loved everything about you, from your sweet personality down to the way you look in his shirts. and boy, did it take him a lot to be able to leave you alone when you looked so pretty in one of his white shirts.

he hadn't even realised that he'd been swinging his escrima sticks around, literally yawning while waiting for someone or something to come out. he was only itching for a fight. "chill out." came from the snappy jason who was leaning against the wall, a literal book in his hands. "you're gonna take someone's fuckin' eye out with that thing."

"are you reading, little wing?" a smirk quirked on his face even from behind the mask. he couldn't help but find it amusing that while waiting for someone to come along to bash their head into the concrete ground, jason had stopped for a little reading time.

but jason seemed in no mood for any games. "fuck off." it was apparent that he didn't want to be here from the start, grumpy as ever and losing enough sleep as it was but sheesh. dick had to roll his eyes, wondering if his brother should just get a lobotomy or something. he wondered if jason would be happier, less snippy. he wondered if jason would stare at him like a dead corpse walking, though he had to question was that better than the stinking attitude that he used now.

the sound of a ding! from his phone caused him to pull it out.

little love do you know what time you'll be home? read, just now.

dick glanced to the time on his phone, it read three thirty. one problem, you had work at six.

dickie!! i'm not sure darling everything okay? read, just now.

with nervousness seeping into his veins, he watched as your text message bubbles appeared, disappeared, appeared again, disappeared again and finally appeared again.

little love im okay be safe, love you read, just now.

but for dick, that simply wasn't enough.

he glanced to jason who didn't so much as look up from the cream coloured pages.

then, dick glanced out to the open streets of gotham, filled with... nothingness. it was one of those nights where nothing happened and they sat positioned on the rooftop of the tallest building in all of gotham. i mean, nothing had happened all night so surely, jason would be fine on his own, right?

before thinking, dick's fingers were pressing against the screen, typing up your contact and then pressing the phone to his ear. this caught jason's attention however dick merely walked further away so that he wouldn't be able to hear their conversation. although, he didn't seem too interested, rolling his eyes, presumedly of the fact that he was merely jealous that grayson had love and he was stuck reading a romance book, then looking back down at the pages and flicking one over.

it wasn't until the fourth ring that he heard the echo from your side. "hey, baby." he muttered tiredly, just knowing you were there was a kind of relief.

"hi." he heard your voice through the phone but you didn't seem as chirpy as normal. if anything, there was a slight sniffle to your tone, as though you'd been crying.

it didn't take a vigilante to figure that much out. he assumed that was why you'd taken so long to answer, trying to stop yourself from sounding all sniffly. but even if you had, dick still knew you better than anyone else in gotham. "it's late." he spoke, kicking a pebble against the ground. "why're you up?"

then he heard it, those dreadful two words that had you tearing up at the mere thought of it. "can't sleep." and dick knew that it wasn't just the type of 'can't sleep' due to the fact that you were on your phone or too engrossed in a book or tv show. it was the type that screamed at him right in the face.

your insomnia.

dick had found out about your insomnia before you were even officially together. he remembered seeing you all down so much, eyes half lidded as you stared at the glass of water in front of you, looking at it as though it were a science experiment. at first, when you walked in looking like that he assumed it was because you were upset about something. and dick being the respectful gentleman that he was, he chose not to ask about it as he didn't see it fit to be his place. however, when you came rubbing your temple, placing your head on the table he soon realised it was much more than that.

the insomnia you suffered with was enough to bring you to tears, as it was now.

"oh, baby." his tone turned soft, ready to comfort. "have you tried the weighted blanket, hm?" that always seemed to help when he wasn't there to wrap you up.

unfortunately, you only made a displeased sound. "mmh, too warm." where dick was standing, the heavy breeze on his shoulders, he wished it was he that was too warm rather than the cold that enveloped him now.

either way, he still pitied you, cooing softly. "i'll be right there." he spoke through the phone but before you could protest, he was speaking again. "I love you."

he couldn't see you, but he could imagine the soft look coming over your features. "I love you too but―"

"see you soon, m'love."

and you were cut off.

he turned to jason who was still with his back against the wall, stupid book in his hands. "the missus alright?" he spoke boredly, still flicking the page as though he had no actual interest in dick's love life.

but dick knew better than that. as disinterested as he may have liked to look, dick knew he secretly liked you, and that was a fact. jason never liked the girls dick dated, never liked much to do with dick but you, he knew you were good for him. "yes but i have a favour." and by the time he was looking up from the book, dick was already giving him them big begging eyes.

he rolled his eyes, turning over the corner of the page. many believe that turning the corners is destroying them, jason would have to beg to differ, it was loving them. "what is it?"

"patrol is slow tonight."

"it is."

"do me this one favour, little wing, please?"

"say it."

"you really like destroying my pride, don't you?"

"It's a little entertaining, yes."

and so that was how the man had rid himself of the nightly patrol. dick didn't like asking for favours nor did he do it often. perhaps that was why jason had let him off so easily this time. or perhaps it was because he knew that dick would soon owe him the same favour in response. 

whatever the case, dick still found himself jogging down the street, your guys’ shared home on wide display. he couldn’t help but smile at the mere sight of it. thinking about it just made his heart swell, you and him, in your very own home. dick didn’t particularly believe in fairytales but if he did, this was sure to be one of them.

he pushed open the front door, taking in the silence that hung heavy in the house but the various lights that you’d left on, a god awful habit. usually, he’d great you with that funny, playful “honey, i’m home!” holding his jacket and bag out, waiting for you to come running into his arms, wrapping your legs around him and holding onto him as though you would never let him go on patrol again.

sometimes, he wished he could give you that.

it was no surprise that you were innocent to the world. you hadn’t seen nor faced the dangers he had, you hadn’t looked death in the eye like him. and for that, he was glad. your soul was too pretty to get scarred. 

instead of the usual playfulness, he merely mulled his bag over towards the living room door, deciding to leave it there until morning. It was filled with his nightwing costume along with his weapons and so on. but dick didn’t believe in carrying that around you. more often than not, he’d leave it somewhere along the door so that he could hide it in the back of his wardrobe when you were busy.

of course, you knew he was nightwing but that didn’t mean he wanted to toss around that danger around you.

he shuffled the shoes off of his feet, now clad in a grey hoodie along with a black sweatpants. the person he was when he wasn’t dressing as a bird.

he was careful not to make too much noise along the stairs to scare you but enough that you could hear he was home, so you were prepared to face him. “baby?” he called out after making the stairs creak, just so you didn’t fear it was someone else out there and not your beloved boyfriend.

instead of a response, he heard a sniffle coming from the bedroom. 

peeling the door open, he stuck his head inside, fluffy black hair peeking in to see you sat atop the bed, grey sheets surrounding you as you sniffled, pathetically. but it didn’t make dick judgemental, when had dick ever been judgemental towards you? instead, his features turned soft.

“hey, hey.” barely in the door and he was already soothing you, though would he really have it any other way? “wh’s the matter?” though he already knew the matter, however that didn’t stop him from sitting himself on the bed, allowing you to wrap your legs around him, sitting atop his lap.

the temperature of the house and the hot skin of your legs was enough to tell him why you’d been so warm.

instead of responding, you sniffled and cried like the crybaby you were. but that was okay, dick didn’t mind having you as his personal crybaby as long as it was he who was wiping away your tears. 

his nose nudged your cheek, attempting to see your face but you only shoved it further into the crook of his neck, not truthfully wanting to face him though how badly you ached for his comfort. “c’mon, lemme see my pretty girl, hm? wanna see your pretty face.” 

the way his hands felt against your waist and your thighs, soothing the plush skin as if trying to coax you to look at him. and it worked, the tenderness that he used and the way everything seemed so… possible. you finally managed to pull your tear-stained face from the crook of his neck, looking at him with that pretty pout of yours.

and didn’t his heart just melt?

even when you were full of tears with a large pout implanted on your mouth, you were still the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. his thumbs were already making a move to soothe your under eyes, wiping away your pretty tears, like diamonds down your cheeks. “there she is, atta girl.” the way he praised you was enough to have your cheeks turning pink, even in your state. 

dick always knew how to fix every problem. 

he was like bob the builder only he was repairing your damaged feelings and little broken heart.

but as much as dick loved taking care of you, his heart did break a little at your tears. your cheeks were passed stained, tears collecting in your under eyes and trickling down your cheeks, softly yet the sniffles still emitted from you. you were his girl, he’d do just about anything to please you and truthfully, seeing you hurt… hurt.

“tell me what i can do.” he whispered against the warm air of the room. he wanted to fix this, he wanted to make sure you slept well but most importantly, he wanted to make sure you didn’t have to cry like this again. “did you take the melatonin?” you nodded your head. “will i make you some tea? run you a bath?” 

you’d been to hundreds of sleep specialists, doctors, so on.

everyone always gave you in around the same ideas. they’d tell you to work out before you went to bed but that was the thing they didn’t understand, it wasn’t because you weren’t physically tired that you couldn’t sleep, you were exhausted. yet it was your mind that couldn’t seem to rest. they’d tell you drink some camomile tea and you’d be on the mend, that was seven years ago.

you sniffled, looking at the one thing that had ever made it easy for you to sleep.

him. 

“jus’ want you.” you mumbled out, thinking you sounded rather selfish. I mean, would anyone disagree? it was unlikely. you’d pulled your boyfriend out of patrol in the middle of the night just so he could help you sleep. you felt downright awful.

but dick? no, his heart was only melting right in front of you, as though you’d just told him that you were adopting a bunny and naming it after him (that’d given you an idea for later). “I’m right here, honey.” he pulled you back towards him again, his hands rubbing up and down your back ever so gently, enough to have you turning to putty at the feeling of his finger tips. 

you sniffled, eventually pulling away and using your arm to wipe your face. “what time is it?” you questioned, now realising that you hadn’t so much as glanced towards a clock in… you weren’t sure how long, you kind of needed a clock to tell those kinds of things. 

his fingers were gently tracing across the softness of your cheek, brushing the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, like they did in those romantic movies. “‘s almost four, m’love.” 

you practically whined at that. “i have work soon.” in approximately two hours. you contemplated not sleeping at all. but you knew that whenever you did that, you surely regretted it sooner rather than later and you’d be taking naps anywhere, through paperwork and in one of those little uncomfortable office chairs.

dick wouldn’t have it. “you’re not going.” he stated briskly to which your brows furrowed. “angel, i’m not leaving you leave the house like this, alright? we both know i make more than enough to support us both until our old age and i know you want to work, that’s okay, but i’m not going to have you breaking your back for minimum wage, got it?” 

slowly, you nodded your head with your teeth wrapping over your bottom lip. “got it.” you mumbled, all flustered.

dick couldn’t help but grin. “good girl.” he then tapped the inside of your thigh. “come on, into bed.” 

and how could you refuse when he spoke to you in that tone that told you whatever he said, goes. whether he was telling you to get outside right now and fly a kite or suggesting bungee jumping in the morning, what did it matter? 

you nodded your head before climbing into the dark grey sheets. you and dick took turns picking the sheets. on his weeks, he’d choose those grey, dark coloured sheets, sometimes black, rarely blues. you always went with pale pink ones or those pretty white ones with little flowers, hearts or so on engraved in it.

you were sure that any pattern on white made your heart just swell.

dick climbed into the bed after you, switching off the lamp light on his way and laying across the comfortable mattress. he helped you move so that your head was positioned on his chest, listening to his lulling breaths and heartbeats, slowly rising and falling as your head moved along with it.

“I dragged you out of patrol.” you mumbled into the dark only moments after the light had been switched off.

dick brushed you off, though he knew that the worry could eat you from the inside and out, like a worm with an apple, rotting it the entire way through, never knowing when to stop. he never blamed you, of course, but sometimes he did curse that beautiful, intricate mind of yours, hoping one day it would decide to treat you a little better. “it was a slow night.” 

you could invision jason all alone, though when you tried to imagine it all you could think of was him either flirting or doing some kind of a ‘dirty talk’ with the enemy, unintentionally of course. everything he said had sort of a flirty tone to it, even with a blood covered face and uttering a death threat, perhaps it was because he’d still somehow manage to slip a petname in. “i’m sor―”

but before you could get the sentence out, his arms were wrapping around your own. “shh, shh.” mumbling as he shook you gently, as though you were a baby. “don’t apologise, princess.” 

you found yourself sighing, snuggling yourself into him as your eyes began to droop, feeling awful heavy, with a yawn, your mouth parted. “you know, i’ve been to so many doctors…” your voice extra low as he could tell the tiredness was taking over your feeble body. “‘n they give me the… worst ideas ever. one of them even told me i should get a treadmill and put it in my room.” he huffed out an airy chuckle. “think i finally found the medicine.” 

his brows furrowed. if you’d had a medicine, how come you weren’t taking it? how come you still lay awake at night when he wasn’t there? “what’s that?” 

poor, oblivious, stupid dick. 

“you.” 

main masterlist/dick's masterlist

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

know its for the better

Words: 2733

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

DC Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

Part 2 for "Love Thorns All Over This Rose"

I decided to make this be longer than just two part, so this'll be a sort of mini-series

I just want to leave another TW here: if you have ever suffered through a miscarriage or any type of child loss, please proceed with caution. I do heavily talk about how Y/N feels after suffering through that and do talk about her feeling like a failure of a woman and other things. I just want everyone to know that if you feel triggered by that, I apologize and I don't want anyone to be upset over what I wrote

I also want to say that I personally have never gone through. What I write in this, is purely based off of what I have read in other fics or stories as well as seen people talk online. I am trying not to offend anyone and if I do in any of the part that I talk about those things; I severely apologize.

Reminder that Alfred is dead in this so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here still isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

Reminder that Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

Also a reminder that I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

3 Months Ago

Y/N tightened her grip around her purse, the people were following her too closely. She knew this. The light was still out, she kept reminding her that. Kept telling herself that no one would try to kidnap her in broad daylight.

But oh how wrong she was.

She should have known better. She grew up in Gotham. She should have known better.

----

Now

Three days had passed since everything happened. Bruce had refused to leave the hospital. He wondered if it was from guilt of not being there for her other times. Or if he was just filling in his obligation as a husband. Or maybe...maybe Dick was right and he was just doing all he could to preserve his image.

But none of that mattered. Bruce was staying until she woke up. Because she had to wake up. He had to show her that he still cared. That he still loved her. That he knows...he knows how much of a horrible person he has been to her for the past month.

He had to make sure she knew that he regretted it. Every word he said to her that night.

But every sign scared him. They had already had to resuscitate her since getting here. The tube was stuck down her throat, helping her to breathe. Nurses looking at him with pity, making him feel foolish for holding out hope that she would be okay. With every look that they gave him, there was a sort of emptiness and despair settling into his stomach.

Almost as if he agreed with them.

But he couldn't. He couldn't be agreeing with them. It wouldn't be useless holding out hope that she would be okay.

He ran his thumb over her palm, his eyes glancing up her arm and body until they landed on the raised skin on her collarbone. His hand that wasn't holding hers, come up to run over it. One of the many reminders of what happened 3 months ago.

----

3 Months Ago

Y/N woke up groggily. Her head was pounding and she felt like she had been dropped from a tall building. She blinked, trying to see something, anything, but as her eyes opened, she wished she could go back to seeing nothing.

She was sure that she was in the sewers. The damp and musky smell with the sound of water dripping down the old stone walls and floors around her made her all too aware of where she was. She tried swallowed any saliva, but her mouth was dry. Tears pricked her eyes from pain as she carefully pushed herself up.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she gingerly touched her stomach. Involuntarily, her own body flinched back from her touch. She felt her air catch in her throat as she felt nothing moving. In the past month or so, her baby had been moving all the time, leading her on to many sleepless nights.

Deep down, she knew. She knew that her baby was dead. And she knew that there was nothing to be done about it.

She jumped back as she heard the sound of shoes pounding against the damp stones. She tried to move away from the only place that someone could come from, but with her hands and legs being tied together, it was harder than expected. She slipped slightly, her side hitting the stone hard.

Three men, with honestly average builds, stalked into the area. She breathed raggedly as she watched them continue towards her. She tried to push away as one grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her up, a yelp of surprise and pain left her mouth as she was pulled to her feet.

These three men were normal. They weren't some goons or some chemically induced maniacs. They were normal.

And maybe that scared her more.

One of the men, who she assumed was the leader, walked up to her, knife raised. Her eyes darted between him, his associates, and the knife. Any self-defense training that Bruce had taught her, flew out the window as she stood before these men.

"When the situation arises, you'll remember what to do."

That was what Bruce had always told her. But here she was. In the situation and nothing was showing up in her mind as what she was supposed to do.

She leaned back as the guy leaned in but the one with the grip on her arm moved one of his hands to hold her head and make her look at him. She shook as she felt the knife against her collarbone.

A small whimper of pain left her mouth as she felt the knife push deeper, deep enough that it would scar over, before she was pushed back to the ground. The one with the knife gave her a sadistic smile before hoarsely whispering, "We're going to make sure Bruce Wayne finds you dead."

She stared in near terror as she held her hand over where they had sliced and watched as they left just as quickly as they had came.

----

Now

Jason stood in a corner away from Y/N's body. Even with the tube gone, she still didn't wake up. Although she had made some developments...some in the past 8 days that she had been in here and everyone had convinced Bruce to go home and get some proper sleep. So now here Jason was, standing in a room where the woman he had allowed to become his mom was laying still.

But he stayed away from her body.

Something he didn't say often was just how scared he can get. He remembers each time he's been absolutely terrified. When Bruce, well Batman, caught him stealing the wheels to the Batmobile. When he was stuck in that warehouse and Bruce didn't make it in time. When he saw Y/N again for the first time since his "death" and he thought that she would hate him for what he had done. When she was taken. Those words he heard Bruce hurling at Y/N.

And right now.

Jason was keeping his composure, but inside, he was a trembling and terrified child. A kid who just needed to know his mom was going to be alright.

Inside, he knew exactly how Damian was feeling.

But as he stared at her body, his mind couldn't stop drifting, remembering what he had heard that night 4 weeks ago. All he could do was wonder what would have happened if maybe, just maybe, he had gotten angry at Bruce for what he heard.

----

4 Weeks Ago

It was nearly 2 AM when Jason was going to sneak out of the Manor. Technically, it was easy to do, well...it was once he got passed Bruce and Y/N's room. So, he was as silent as he could be as he passed by. But he stopped in his tracks as he heard the voices from behind the cracked door.

Now, Jason wouldn't say he was noisy. But don't all kids stop and listen whenever they hear their parents arguing?

But they weren't arguing. No. He had heard that before. This wasn't it. This was different.

And it scared him.

He stood by the door as Bruce's voice got louder: "--Well I'm sorry that I'm not here anymore Y/N! But can you fucking blame me?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Her voice was low, warning him to think before he spoke.

"You didn't pay attention and got taken. You and your inability to pay attention to your surroundings got our baby killed."

She sucked in a breath, "You think I don't blame myself already, Bruce? Do you think that I don't wonder what would have happened if I just hadn't gone out that day?"

"Please, this doesn't affect you. You're perfectly fucking fine."

"Because I have to be!" She nearly screamed, "One of us has to be a parent to everyone else in this home and we both know it won't be you!"

"They aren't even your kids, Y/N, why do you--"

A loud slap echoed and Jason's hand went over his mouth as he continued to listen.

"Those kids are mine. I am the one who helped raise them. I am the one who has made sacrifices for them! You haven't done shit for them, ever." She let out a choked back laugh, "All I did was ask for you to be here with me, to understand what I am feeling and going through. But of course, you don't understand anything."

"I understand that you killed our baby."

"No Bruce. Those men came after me to hurt you. You are the reason I was taken and lost our baby. But sure," Her voice started to break, "Go on. Blame me. I'm used to you doing that anyways.

----

Now

Jason breathed shakily as he grabbed his helmet and stormed out of the room. He knew Dick would be there soon with Damian anyways and he had to get out of there.

--------

Dick watched as Damian laid curled into Y/N's side. Bruce was, miraculously, still sleeping as he and Damian snuck out to the hospital. He didn't do it much for himself as he did it for Damian, he knew that the kid had a sort of...guilt that he could have done something.

Not that Dick could say anything against that. He felt guilty as well.

Y/N was his mom. He was the oldest son. He should have protected her, that was his job. Dick was the protector. He was always supposed to protect everyone. Y/N and even Bruce included. He already had been in this situation before. The immense guilt of failing to protect Y/N.

He remembers what he thought that first time he was here. Remembers the guilt of already failing to keep Alfred alive and not wanting to fail Y/N.

----

3 Months Ago

Dick ran through the sewers, trying to find Y/N. Two days had passed since she had gone missing. All of them had lost sleep trying to find her and now they were searching the sewers for where she could be. He felt like a failure, a bad kid, all because he didn't

He stopped in his tracks as he heard her labored breathing. He turned in the direction that he heard the breathing, his own getting caught in his throat when he saw her laying in the fetal position.

"Mom." He breathed out, rushing to kneel by her side. He gently grabbed her face and looked at her, tears pooling in his eyes. "Mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He failed. Guilt filling with him. Guilt of failing Alfred and now her.

He was a failure and he knew that.

"You-you're not a--"

----

Now

"--A failure."

He stopped and looked at Y/N, his eyes wide. "Mom?"

Her head was turned to the side, a small look of gentle concern on her face. "You're not a failure Dick." She whispered through a hoarse voice, "You didn't fail anyone. Especially not me."

But he shook his head. He did. Not once. But twice. First being after she was taken and now this.

"Dick, stop that. The only person here that failed was me."

He got up and angrily wiped the tears from his eyes, "But I-I just...you never--"

Her hand shakily came up to touch his face, "I'm the one who failed sugar. I should've..."

She stopped, hand leaving his to rub her neck. Out of instinct of all the times waking up from injuries, he grabbed her the bottle of water he had grabbed earlier. Unscrewing the lid, he gently brought it to her lips and she quickly took a gulp of it.

After a moment, she gently held his wrist. "Dick, look at me and believe me when I tell you that it's not your fault. You did nothing wrong." Her grip tighten on his wrist for a moment, "You or your siblings." She glanced over at Damian, her arm wrapped around the kid who was now sleeping. "You all had nothing that you could do." She looked back at him, "Everything that happened, that I did, was nothing to do with you kids. It um...it--"

"Has to do with dad?"

She nodded silently before breathing shakily, "I know Jason heard what Bruce and I said. Ahd I um...I assume that--"

He stopped her, his head shaking. "He didn't tell us anything."

"Oh." She sucked in a breath, "Let's just say, both your father and I say things that we shouldn't have. Not saying they weren't truthful...that deep down we didn't mean each and every word that passed our lips...but you kids aren't to blame."

Dick swallowed hard, "Why did you do it mom?"

Her hand fell from his wrist and she looked away, out to the window. "You don't understand how I felt after everything--"

----

6 Weeks Ago

Y/N silently stared out the window. Her hands mindlessly moving up and down her now flatter stomach. She felt disgusting and like a failure. A failure as a wife and as a mother and...as a woman. She was hurting. Not physically, sure her entire body was in pain, but mentally, she was in much more pain.

Her head snapped as she heard the door open. She saw Bruce standing at the door, an almost uncomfortable look on his face. She shakily looked away, ashamed to even look at him.

She heard his almost scoff, "Y/N, come on. You need to talk about it."

She looked at him slightly before whispering with a strained voice, "So do you."

"Y/N, I didn't...nevermind." She looked away again as he walked further in, "Doctors said that you'll be able to leave soon. By the end of the week at most."

She nodded, "Alright." Her voice nearly numb and void of emotion. She turned her head to him, "You always gonna hate me now?"

Bruce sighed, "I don't...I don't hate you."

"Why not?" Her words started to lace with their own venom, "I lost our baby. Because I'm such a..."

He shook his head, "Don't finish that sentence. You are not a failure baby. It wasn't your fault. None of what happened was your fault. You weren't gonna know that someone was going to come after you.

----

Now

"Y/N?" She felt herself freeze when she heard the voice. She kept her eyes everywhere but at the door. She didn't want to see him. Not here. Not now. "Dick can you--"

"Mom doesn't want to see you."

"Dick you don't--"

"Dick it's okay." She whispered, looking at her oldest. "Take Damian down to the food court, force him to eat some junk."

"Mom--"

"Go." She whispered before he silently nodded and grabbed the younger boy, starting to carry him out of the room. She weakly gripped the blanket, "Why are you here?"

"Can I not visit my wife."

She shook her head, "I am not your wife, Bruce." She looked at him angrily, "You're the one who served the fucking papers."

"And I can't--"

"Bruce, you told me that the only reason you were letting me stay in the manor was for the kids. Was so that Damian didn't have to losing another person." She breathed angrily, "You stopped loving me, not the other way around. You're only here to keep up appearances that you are a loving and devoted husband." She leaned forward in his direction, "But I know exactly what you are."

"And what's that?" He challenged.

"A selfish coward who only cares for himself and his image."

He shook his head, "I'm sorry that I made you think so lowly of me."

Tears burned her eyes, "Get out."

"Y/N--"

"Get out, Bruce. Now."

He stood and started for the door, momentarily stopping to look at her. "I still love you, I know what I did and what I said shows otherwise, but all I ask for is one more chance and I'll prove it to you."

Her lip quivered for a moment before she whispered out, "Tell the nurses I woke up."

[chibinightowl]

Today has been a day. Just a lot of hospital stress this week between my mom and my husband's surgeries and this is how it's coming out (they're both fine and are recovering well).

~~~

Dick finds Tim in a waiting room at Gotham General, slumped in a faded blue plastic chair that's seen better days. At some point during the day, his brother had been immaculately dressed for the office. But now, his blue pin-striped suit is wrinkled, his collar is unbuttoned, and his shirtsleeves have been rolled up. There was a tie somewhere as Dick knows Tim never leaves home without one on an office day, but it's anyone's guess as to where it currently is.

"Hey. I got here as fast as I could," he says, taking the open seat beside Tim. He did too, calling Wally as soon as he got the news from Barbara. "How's Jason?"

Tim opens his eyes, giving him a look that is more dead than alive. "Still critical."

Pain lances through Dick at the two words. He'd lost Jason once before and the guilt from being off world when his Little Wing needed him the most still ate at him in the darkest parts of his psyche. And now, here he is sitting with another brother he never thought he'd have, one who's been through so much trauma and loss of his own--and who is on the verge of possibly losing another loved one.

A car-pedestrian accident. The gall of something so normal and mundane having the potential to take out the Red Hood--or any of them for that matter--is enough to make Dick want to punch the taupe wall of this dreary waiting room.

To be honest, he's rather surprised none of the others are here yet. Well, expect Bruce. He's off world with the JL and...

Oh.

Oh.

"Do you think Bruce knows yet?"

Tim's shrug is so minute Dick might have missed it if he wasn't watching closely. "Can't say I care right now. He and Jay got into another of their big fights before he left. Said if Jay can't clean up his act, then don't bother coming back."

Dick winces and easily reads between the lines of what Tim isn't saying given their semi-public place. Even in Bludhaven, he'd heard about the execution-style murder of a known pedophile--and that it was the Red Hood who'd done it.

"He didn't do it, Dick," Tim whispers, catching his gaze as tears build in his eyes. "I was there. I know he didn't. But Bruce didn't listen to either of us, said I was covering for him because he's in my pants." Those last words are practically spat out. "I think this is the first time I've ever felt like I hate him. He just doesn't listen!"

That's a feeling Dick knows all too well. He also knows now why the others aren't here--that Barbara called him first because Tim doesn't need just comfort.

He needs his big brother.

Dick slides from the chair to kneel on the floor in front of Tim. "Now that is something I know a lot about." He takes Tim's hands and squeezes them firmly. "I'm not going to tell you it'll get better. I'm also not going to say you need to be the bigger person and forgive him. What I am going to tell you is that I believe you and that I believe in Jason."

Tim's breath hitches and he falls into Dick's open arms sobbing. Thank yous fall from his lips and into Dick's jacket. Tears fill his own eyes as he remembers another time where he didn't believe this little bird, his first Robin.

Time hasn't necessarily dulled the guilt, but it has given him perspective. He'd done what he thought best at the time and owned up to it when he'd been proven wrong--a trait not shared by their mentor and father-figure.

"We'll get through this together," Dick soothes, running a hand up and down Tim's back. "You, me, and everyone else. We're all here for you and we're all pulling for Jason."

As he speaks, he glances up and spots Alfred hurrying down the hall with Damian and Duke in tow. Both boys are still dressed in their school uniforms, so Alfred must have pulled them out early. Behind them are Cass and Steph, hands held tightly.

"We're all here," he repeats, nudging Tim's chin to make him look up. "And we're not going anywhere."

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DICK GRAYSON & JASON TODD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Long Overdue: Epilogue” (Dick Grayson & Batmom!Reader), (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, mentions of grief, past death of a child

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven. (series masterlist)

You walk out of the weapons cache lighter than how you walked into it and head directly for your eldest.

“Dick what the hell?”

Said man, halfway through what looks like calf stretches, sits up and throws a slight frown your way.

“What? What’d I do?”

And bless him but he’s actually thinking it over. Eyes sliding to the side and lips pursing and everything. Racking his brain over what mess he forgot to get himself out of this time.

Somewhere behind you Jason starts laughing at Dick so when he passes by you flick him on the arm. The drama queen then makes a whole show of blowing you off with a half assed ‘ow’. Your eyes meet the dark depths of the cave ceiling for a second as you beg for strength before they lock on Dick once more.

From there all you have to do is purse your lips and raise a brow for him to catch on. His arms fling into the air.

“He said he’d ‘take care of it’, and I haven’t seen you since then. Fuck me for thinking he actually did it! And he only felt the need to tell me three nights ago so it’s not like you’re the only one.”

Your shoulders start to shake and you move closer until you can nudge him. His arms drop and he huffs.

“Easy, little D, I’m just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over your father’s horrible communication skills, okay?”

“Don’t worry I won’t,” he says.

You do catch the nasty look he throws the cave entrance with despite what he’s said, and the easy tone he’s said it with, however.

“Actually,” Jason pipes up, helmet back on and voice once again skewed. “I’m still hung up on your shit communication skills. Nightfall? Since when has that been a thing?”

He jabs a finger in your direction while pacing around to Dick’s other side. Dick doesn’t do anything but follow the younger’s antics with his eyes.

You laugh, shrugging, and lean back on the cave wall beside the desk. You're still within spitting distance of the boys but you can’t bring yourself to travel any further.

“I’ve been in the game longer than Bruce has, but mostly under an independent contractor. It wasn’t till I came to Gotham that I changed my suit and started calling myself Nightfall; that gimmicky shit is contagious after all.”

“Immensely goddamn contagious,” Jason mutters darkly. He throws a glare Dick’s way that translates pretty perfectly even with the helmet to get him to knock off the staring, but you get the feeling the older only looks away because grilling you is a more pressing matter.

In the next moment Dick snaps his fingers, “You know what I still don’t get? How come we never found out? I mean you didn’t tell me until I was in Blud already.”

That question you can’t shrug away as easily. A grimace crosses your face and Jason makes an intrigued ‘ohh’ sound that honestly makes you want to flip him off. How are you being cajoled by your children right now?

“Well…” you kiss your teeth. “I was in love.”

The “Gross,” Jason lets out is instantaneous and he holds a hand up - it's a flawless reminder that 19 is not yet fully grown. “Forget I asked.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not that damn bad. It’s just that when we first got Dick Bruce thought it’d be best if he had a greater sense of normalcy out of the cape, and I agreed; one vigilante parent was enough. Then we just kept that same dynamic when we got you,” you gesture to Jason and he tilts his head.

“I’m still not seeing how that relates to the completely unnecessary ‘in love’ comment you made earlier.”

“Jason,” you scold. “I’m getting there, goddamn.”

Dick poorly muffles a laugh and you give him a hard look before rolling your shoulders.

“Back in the day, before Bruce stopped acting like we were a unit and more like I was a casualty of war in the waiting-” you take a deep breath and cross your arms, closing your eyes against the white lights of the cave.

You can hear the way the boys falter, likely glancing to one another to figure out what to do before they each take a step forward.

“Mom-” Dick calls.

“You don’t have to-” Jason’s saying at the same time, their voices overlapping, and you shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you say. You blink your eyes open; both brothers have stilled but they’re balancing forward like they think you’re gonna drop. You huff. “Point is, there was a time where he could’ve convinced me of anything. He used to look at me like I hung the fucking moon just to provide people free light to see, you know? So at a certain time I chose not to tell you two because I didn’t want to challenge the perception of me that you had gotten from Bruce. That’s why you didn’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was as bad as the people you were fighting every night; the people who took away your parents from you. Dick running off was what made me finally spill, but you died years before I would’ve been ready to tell you, Jay.”

Jason clears his throat, “Uh. That why you and hi- Bruce separated?”

“Not really,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It wasn’t Bruce before…it was Bruce after. After you died we didn’t just bounce back…so eventually things between us soured. I loved him but expecting someone to put up with you constantly pushing them away isn’t fair,” you shrug. “How Bruce saw me stopped mattering as much after that.”

Dick nods, lining up what you’ve said to his own memory of the aftermath and coming up with a corresponding connection.

“Yeah, you and Bruce argued for hours after you met Tim that first time…and then some more when Stephanie became Robin. Hell, even by the time I’d gotten back earthside you and Bruce were down right frosty when you were next to each other even though you were trying to hide it from us.”

“Yeah,” you grunt. “That’s all we tend to do now. Stay mad.”

Staring off into the distance Dick nods and Jason catches your eye, or maybe the other way round.

Whatever expression he is looking at you with is impossible to place but he is definitely watching you. Uncannily all the boys had Bruce’s tendency to look at things, and by extension people, like they were puzzles to solve. Which came with the added bonus of the recipient of said stare being able to feel it. Feel the weight of being dissected and picked apart as if it was a physical thing.

Most buck under that level of analysis. Wholly used to the originator of that stare though you continue on as usual. If he wasn’t going to ask then you had nothing to say.

After it becomes clear you won’t be coughing anything more up Jason backs off, pushing the conversation towards lighter material until Dick and him are carrying the back and forth together. They play off of each other in stunted stops and starts, and barely concealed hostility on Jason’s part, but their awkward attempts at light hearted banter still get your mind out of the gutter you’d landed in.

Ten minutes of forced jokes and almost insults later and Jason starts giving less than subtle hints at wanting to head out. After that it doesn’t take long before he comes over, and he doesn’t reach out to you but he does softly knock your shoulders together.

“See you later, Ma,” he says for your ears alone.

“Goodbye Jason,” you respond even though you’d rather never have him leave your side again.

You watch him go and are drastically reminded that your eyes have been incessantly brimming with tears this whole time when a few slip down your face with little prompting.

A few more beads follow the path of the others after you catch sight of the truly cracked look on Alfred’s face when Jason comes up to him before there’s an arm slinging across your shoulders and Dick’s urging you into a hug.

You take it. You raised some good kids, you’ll give yourself that much. Even if there were some major fuck ups along the way.

“It’s kinda surreal, isn’t it?”

“Oh absolutely,” you croak. “I like it though.”

Dick shrugs, “Yeah. It wouldn’t really be us if things got too predictable anyway.”

He waits a beat and then, “So who’s updating Babs?”

“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “he told you two at the same time?”

“Pretty much. Which that, combined with everything that happened with Steph and The Birds, and having to break all this to Cass means her fuse is waaay shorter than usual.”

“Not it,” you proclaim.

Dick’s mouth drops open, his gaze snapping to you.

“What? That’s not fair.”

“Says who? I’m not cleaning up after Bruce anymore than I already am, and she’s your friend, Dick.”

“It’s still unfair,” he grumbles. He brushes it off quickly though. “So….I heard you and Cass ran into each other a few days ago.”

“Yeah. Last Sunday.” You side eye him. “Right after you almost started a grease fire in your new apartment.”

Dick holds his hand to his chest, tone barely upset enough to sound like true hurt. “Don’t look at me like that, I can cook.”

You nod slowly, “I know you can cook,” then shake your head in the same manner. “But you cannot fry.”

“It’s not my fault the oil fights back. I get enough shit in my nightly life. I don't need it when I’m at home on top of that.”

He smiles but the way it doesn’t reach his eyes churns your stomach.

“Maybe pan frying just isn’t for you,” you murmur but your hand goes up to touch his arm. “How’re you feeling?”

Dick shrugs. Gaze locking somewhere over your shoulder.

“As good as I can be,” you give him a sideways look and he forces a chuckle, rocking back from your touch. “Seriously I’m fine. Please don’t stress out about me. Are you okay?”

“Uh huh,” you grunt before pushing him towards the benches on the other side of the cave. “Sure. I’m fine. Now come on, let’s go sit.”

“Mom-”

“Nope. Move before you pass out or some shit.”

“Ah,” he gasps. “You said a bad word.”

“Dick,” you curb the urge to roll your eyes.

- - -

Whatever conversation Jason’s just had with Alfred doesn’t seem to have left him any more tense than he already was, which is good. You and Dick stop mid sentence to watch him walk off from your new position on the floor.

You with a foam roller and your first child dramatically cringing every time you go over the area just above the hole in his calf. Part of it you’re sure is him trying to cheer you up but the other you're certain are actual expressions of pain because he went out on a literal bullet wound even though you’d told him to stay his ass home.

“I don’t know why he’s under the impression that I can’t shoot without killing someone but he’s wrong,” Jason’s saying. He pats the occupied holster at his thigh while making his way towards the vehicle pathway. “Anyway, I’m gonna get outta here. The later I see you Bats the better.”

“Jason!”

“Except for you, Ma! I’ll call you tomorrow!” He yells over his shoulder, running his fingers over the handle of the bike closest to him.

“You’d better,” you yell back. You’d be happy to reinstate another child that would lament the drama in their lives to you on your call list.

“Uh oh,” Dick says under his breath.

You turn to look over at him for barely a second, brows raised and mouth partially open, when the sound of a motorcycle revving answers your unasked question for you.

Looking back at the bikes shows Jason’s already peeling out of the cave with a yell of: “I’ll leave this somewhere you can find!”

You blink after him, not sure if you want to laugh or not.

“That’s not good,” Dick murmurs. When you turn to him he’s grimacing and seeing your expression he nods to the now empty spot. “That was Tim’s bike.”

“Oh.” For the first time since finding out the implications of Jason being Red Hood really hit you. Your lips purse. If he’d really been at that confrontation Tim came out of with a (mild according to him) slit throat during the Hush debacle, and been the one to infiltrate Titans Tower and lay Tim out a few weeks back you had a situation. “Oh lorde.”

“Yeah,” Dick gets up in one swift motion, hands on the roller. “We can’t have regular family problems. Nope.”

Unfortunately he’s right. A sigh falls past your lips. Either way, that was one down. You stand, addressing Dick while he’s putting the foam back.

“Excitement aside, before you head back to New York you want to come help me make dinner?” You incline your head. “Tim can come too.”

He smiles at you. You know he understands you not wanting to get too close to the teen but appreciates you including him in stuff anyway.

“Yeah, Mom, I’d love to. Just let me get my stuff and I’ll call him.”

“Okay.”

Dick leaves and you settle in to wait just as the Batmobile comes rumbling into the Cave. You cut your eyes at the vehicle but otherwise don’t acknowledge as Bruce gets out of it, heading immediately to change.

Alfred comes up to your side a breath later. The two of you nod in greeting.

“Sorry for taking the kids from you.”

“That’s quite alright, Mistress Y/n,” His voice drops to a whisper. “Between the two of us I believe Master Timothy may resort to camping in the woods behind the estate if he’s stuck here a moment longer. I’ll gladly allow you to take them both. You go deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.”

“Have fun,” you croon lightly. The butler gives you a wry look in response. You shrug. “Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind could you tell Bruce to meet me at the Wayne Plot?”

A nod from the old butler.

“Is there a specific time you would like for me to convey as well?”

“He’ll know,” you say simply.

Alfred gives a curt nod.

“Certainly then. Farewell, my dear.” Alfred arches a brow at Dick as he comes back with a duffle swung over his shoulder. “And do try to express upon Master Richard the necessity of wearing his winter gear this year.”

“Alfred,” the man huffs.

You laugh and flick said man in the side. “I don’t think I’ll have to. He should have learned his damned lesson with that two week cold.”

“And I really did,” he bats your hand away and then speeds off. “I'll be upstairs.”

“Bye!” You laugh after him.

This was something you could work with. Putting time into your relationships with your boys and Tim. Solid plan. You say your farewells to Alfred and then follow after your eldest. Your gripes with Bruce could wait, you had dinner to make and two boys to feed.

Fin.

NOTES: I don’t know how severe the implications of a two week cold are but whatever. Hope you enjoyed!!

Thank you all for embarking on this journey with me, this is the first long form series I’ve actually finished so I’m very excited to cap it off!!

Anyway, long overdue is done but I will also write extras to this series at some other time in the future (if you’d like to be tagged in those then tell me).✌🏾

And yes I did my best not to have to write Tim or Cass yet, I can barely write Dick as is. Also let’s just assume Reader had the decency to actually inform Dick about Jason’s death and as such he wasn’t forced to dig for that information himself behind Bruce’s back.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik, @trashpenguin

[belovedgrayson]

Do you think since Nightwing was willing to kill the Joker for Jason, that he has more loyalty to Jason/other Robins than he does to Batman? He knows Bruce better than anyone, so he should have accepted why he didn't kill the Joker himself

Short answer: nope. I personally don’t think there’s anyone Dick is more loyal to than Bruce. (He can be so intense and explicit about it, too.)

Long answer:

Ohhhh honey I don’t even know where to start with Dick’s loyalty to Bruce. It knows no bounds. It really knows no bounds. You can’t get Bruce out of Dick’s veins, he’s in that deep.

Even when Bruce “did bad things/was an asshole” Dick would defend him and make excuses for him in front of others. And it doesn’t surprise me at all because that’s his Dad and Dick is an insanely devoted kid; no matter what happens he’ll always be loyal to Bruce. You could call it endearing, a character flaw, a blind spot– really depends on how you look at it.

Okay so let’s talk about the Joker Last Laugh fiasco! -war flashbacks-

(I went back and hate-reread the whole thing just for you, anon🫶🏼)

(I have qualms with some of the writing in this story but for the sake of this ask I won’t nitpick)

“Dick killing the Joker” did not occur in a vacuum so let’s analyze what happened before, during, and after. At the start we see Dick trying to get Babs to relax and take a break from her work (in addition to obsessively watching the Joker’s every move via CCTV). While they’re out Babs talks about how she wishes they could just be rid of the Joker permanently. This train of thought comes up again and again.

She says she wants him dead. His answer is “we don’t do revenge”. That’s his moral code courtesy of Bruce. It makes several appearances in this story.

Dick keeps trying to reason with her and talk her down, even though he was also traumatized by what happened to her. When recalling what the Joker did to Babs and the immediate aftermath of it, Dick (in his head) describes those as the darkest days of his life since his parents’ death.

This shows us that Dick is deeply affected by the pain his loved ones go through and that he reflects on it. And then, amidst all the chaos, news reaches him of Tim’s presumed death at the hands of the Joker, and it’s like the final straw on top of the mountain he’d already been carrying on his back. Jason’s death. The attack on Babs that continues to cause her immense pain. And now Tim? It’s too much, the pain and rage tips him into a breakdown. Even Babs later tells Tim that Dick was acting different and “changed” after he found out that Tim was presumed dead. He even subtly blames himself by saying “we weren’t there for him.”

Dick’s not in his right mind at all when he goes to the cathedral to face the Joker, and it’s obvious. He doesn’t say a single word, immediately starts throwing punches, and when he finally speaks he explodes

He’s so out of it that when he sees Tim he thinks it’s a trick. He’s having a full-on breakdown. I wouldn’t call that “willingly” doing anything. Because when he does snap out of it he goes right back to the moral code he’s been preaching all along and is utterly shattered by his own actions. The first thing out of his mouth is “what have I done?”

Bruce is there to resuscitate the Joker to save his son from the mental toll that killing would have on him, but it still isn’t enough. He’s completely dismayed and just walks out in a daze all alone.

After walking out, he beats himself up, isolates himself from everyone, ignores Babs’s calls, and even considers quitting crimefighting all together because he almost killed the Joker. Which he thinks is a massive failure. I repeat, Dick thinks almost killing the Joker was the biggest failure ever. He breaks the moral code once and can’t bear to look anyone in the eye anymore. I don’t know if we want to call that “willing”.

TLDR; the aftermath of his breakdown in Joker Last Laugh is actually a classic example of his undying loyalty to Bruce. Everyone except Bruce basically tells him hey it’s fine maybe you did a bad thing but you’re human and we wanted Joker dead anyway, and you know what Dick does? Turns inward and dismisses all attempts at comfort, because the one person who matters most and whose opinion reigns supreme didn’t tell him that it’s okay: Bruce.

[dramatisperscnae]

closed starter for @cxpedcrusxder and amnesiac!bruce

It's something they all quietly live in fear of. That one night, someone won't make it back. That some day The Call will come through and they'll be left with one less name in their lives, one less voice to hear. It's a fear, but it's a given. What they do is dangerous, and every night there is always the risk that they won't make it back. Dick knows this. He's known it since he was nine.

That hadn't changed the sudden ice-cold rush of panic he'd gotten when Alfred had called him over a week ago.

He'd just been finishing up his own patrol when the call came through over his comms. The Bat had fallen, badly. Possibly permanently. Dick hadn't hesitated - hell, he hadn't even stopped to pack; he'd just thrown a long coat on over his costume, hopped on his motorcycle, and raced to Gotham with his speedometer pushing 200mph the whole way. By the time he'd arrived Bruce was already in the hospital and Alfred - bless Alfred - was in the waiting room with a cup of coffee and a worrying grave expression.

In the days that followed Dick refused to leave the hospital. It was only at Alfred's insistence - and with his help - that Dick even bothered changing into proper clothes rather than remain in his working gear. Bruce wasn't dead - yet - but he was hardly out of the woods and there was no power in this or any other universe that could pry Dick away from his father's side. Sure their relationship hadn't been the best over the past few years, but none of that mattered. Not now.

At this point the nurses seem to have realized the family is not going to leave, given they've stopped bothering to remind Dick and the others about visiting hours. Only discussion - okay, an argument - between himself and his brothers pulls Dick from Bruce's bedside, and that only occasionally; they've set up a patrol rotation, picking up the slack while Batman is incapacitated to ensure that neither Bruce nor Gotham is left untended.

Tonight it's Dick's turn at Bruce's side, Tim and Damian having charge of the city under Alfred's guidance - and with some quiet help from Jason, not that anyone will openly say so. Dick's pulled his chair right beside Bruce's bed, a book open on his lap as he reads quietly aloud. Maybe Bruce can hear him, maybe he can't, but either way it's something, isn't it? It's at least doing more than just sitting there worrying and praying Bruce wakes up.

[sungbeam]

BIRD HUNT — one

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman

▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of insomnia, bank robbery, mentions of assault/violence, mentions of weaponry, depictions of death and blood, dead body

▷ word count. 3.8k // taglist. open

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FILE_01 : a thing for strays

gotham city.

[beomgyu & yn are 15, soobin is 16, yeonjun is 17.]

The incessant, distinct cry of meowing drew 15-year-old Choi Beomgyu from his warm covers and his state of sleep. (Technically speaking, it was only partial unconsciousness, but this wasn't about his insomnia.) He had long accepted the fact that good night's rests were rare in this world and with his condition, so there was less irritation and more plain curiosity in his mind. In other words, he cared very much about how a cat could meow so loud over the city’s infinite soundtrack more than sleeping.

He dragged his palms over his eyes, scrubbing away the stinging in his irises due to sleep deprivation. The dull buzz at the back of his head kept him awake constantly anyway. As he made his way toward the window, his eyelids fluttered like the shutter of a camera lens, actively adjusting to the warm glow of a light radiating from the apartment across the alleyway from him and streaming into the darkness of his.

Beomgyu peered out of the window, hand idly scratching his chest while the other leaned on the sill. It wasn't completely uncommon to see at least one person wandering the streets late at night in Gotham City. No sane person would be out, but whoever said Gotham residents were sane in the first place?

In the alleyway below, he could make out a shadowy form crouched by a dingy cardboard box at the foot of a dumpster. You knelt there before the box; Beomgyu quietly lifted his window open to hear what you were saying. You didn't look much older than he was, and you were bundled in a straight trench coat that left much to the imagination. A pair of slippers peeked out from beneath you, however, where you braced yourself against the grainy gravel ground.

"I'm not gonna — yah! I'm trying to help you, you st—" You huffed, hands raised in the air. "Sorry, that's mean of me to say."

A small laugh fell from his lips.

Your head perked up at the sound, and he mentally praised your alertness. That was a critical skill to wield here. Your head whipped around, eyes searching the alleyway, before meeting his eyes. You narrowed your own. "Have you just been there watching me this whole time?"

"Depends; how long have you been out here?" He drawled back, his upper body leaning out of the window and his elbows bracing against the window sill.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the cat in the box. "Creep."

"Weirdo."

That got you whirling around for him again, and this time, he stared at the way the amber streetlight posted just at the mouth of the alleyway illuminated your features and the feisty gleam in your eyes. There was a feline likeness to your eyes and tendencies—your posture and crouch stance, narrow-eyed cynicism, alertness and awareness. "The fuck d'you just call me?"

He shrugged with a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "You called me a creep first."

You scoffed at his teasing. This was much more fun than tossing and turning for sleep that would never come.

"Are you not afraid of catching something from the animals out here?" Beomgyu queried, now leaning his chin in the palm of his hand. He was Juliet leaning out of her window to lament her dramatic soliloquy, unaware of Romeo's presence below. His father would scoff at such a romanticized view of life, but it was all said with an undertone of cynicism anyway. "I mean, have you seen what crawls out of the gutters? Ngh," he shivered.

There was something he couldn't place in your features as you suddenly scooped the mewling cat into your arms and stood facing him. Beomgyu watched in awe as the cat began to purr and nuzzle into the warmth that your body provided. Your hand gently smoothed over its fur, even if the feline was matted with dirt and grime.

"I have a thing for strays," you said simply. On the surface, it was a quote of defiance, but beneath it all, he sensed there was something else to it.

Beomgyu's heart stuttered when you had said that and looked him right in the eyes.

As if on cue, a pair of black and white cats padded their way out of the shadows toward you. From where, he had no clue. But they circled your legs, rubbing against your sweatpants adoringly. He guessed these were yours, but he shouldn't assume simply based on their cleaner and maintained coats. (Sarcasm—that was sarcasm. He was definitely going to guess based on that.)

The apartment across the alleyway opened up at ground level and more of its warm light streamed out into the alley. A woman stood at the doorway with one hand on her cocked hip. "Yn, you know we can't…"

"Oh, but mama," you pleaded. You lifted the purring mass of fur in your arms as if it would plead your case for you. It was kind of cute, really. "Look at her."

The woman's eyes twinkled. "Ah, all right. Let me see if we have more—" Her words died upon her tongue when she caught Beomgyu's frame at his window.

He marked the spark of recognition in her eyes. He wasn't completely surprised.

"You're—You're one of the Choi kids, aren't you?" She asked. Perhaps it was less of a question than a statement, because Beomgyu had no doubt she didn't need confirmation. He and his brothers' and his father's faces had been plastered all over the society columns since birth. "Beomgyu, isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am," he said. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Her head tilted to the side, and he saw the curiosity in your features, as well. It seemed you hadn't recognized him though. "You're quite polite for…" She shook her head, dismissing her previous thought. "What're you doing on this side of the city?"

Ah, and that was yet another mystery, wasn't it? Besides the mystery of his entire family, it was the fact that the Choi kids, despite hardly being adult aged, did not live at Choi Manor all of the time. Eventually, Beomgyu figured they'd all amass there once more and dwell there more frequently, but for now, he liked his dingy, crumby, little apartment in this specific Gotham gutter. Folks usually didn't expect the child of a multimillionaire to pick this dump to have his own apartment in.

But that was the strategy, wasn't it? Not only to prove people's judgements wrong, but to also let himself live and breathe and learn from his own mistakes.

Oh, and learn to deal with his insomnia on his own. So far, the only solutions he'd found were copious doses of melatonin or just caffeine. But even those things were hit or miss.

"Got kicked out," he joked.

And then he regretted it immediately afterward when he realized how real that felt. It was sticky and metallic in his mouth, like blood, and it felt too real.

You and your mother were surprisingly sympathetic and neither of you made any brash comments concerning his status, his money, his family and being "kicked out." He expected something like "spoiled brat got an apartment to himself when he got kicked out of daddy's mansion," but nothing of the sort came forth.

I have a thing for strays, your words echoed in his mind.

The doorway to your apartment seemed to open just a little wider. "How about you come over for a little hot chocolate?"

Despite it being the beginning of summer, hot chocolate sounded nice. (Hot chocolate and company sounded nice.)

Beomgyu's eyes subtly flickered over to you, expecting some kind of catty objection, but even you stayed quiet, your eyes peering up at him. Waiting. I have a thing for strays.

"Okay," he swallowed. "I couldn't sleep anyway."

[3 years later.]

"You're a little young, don't you think?"

Nineteen-year old-Choi Soobin's head perked up at the question posed toward the current interviewee. Your name was Ln Yn, according to the manilla file folder of your records, application, and supplementary materials—all of which were quite good for someone of your age. When you presented yourself before the panel of interviewers for the opening of a job here at Choi Enterprises, you had done so with perfect posture and a professional vocabulary. You acted a lot older than your age, which was why Soobin thought that question was so goddamn absurd.

You didn't even fidget, all to your credit. You didn't shrink once under the stares of the interview panel, plus Soobin. He was just there to observe and learn, but he was given permission beforehand to step in if he felt any desire to. "Pardon?"

The man who had posed the question was one of Soobin's least favorite people here. Along with a balding head, he had a balding personality. Balding of what? Balding of humanity. He elaborated, "You've only just graduated from high school, you have yet to even begin a college degree. Do you not believe that you could learn and experience a little more?"

You cleared your throat. "With all due respect, sir, the hiring page said that this was an entry level job."

Yeah, Soobin thought to himself, that's what they always say. You must have been surprised by the extensive hiring process for said "entry level job." He really needed to have a talk with the people in Hiring and Recruitment; he picked up the pen tucked behind his ear to note it down in his little notebook to remind himself later.

"And yet, we also prefaced the description with a college degree requirement," added another member. Soobin begrudgingly admitted that that was true.

"I don't believe a college degree is particularly necessary for secretarial work, especially when most of the duties will be taught to me on site."

That is also true, he thought. Professional, calm… blank. You'd fit in great here.

"It would be difficult for partners and businesses to take a girl like you seriously—"

Soobin leaned forward and sent a look down toward the idiot who decided to open his mouth again. He sounded like he had a stick up his ass; Soobin wouldn't be surprised if he did. His posture said otherwise, but his attitude? Jesus fucking Christ. He cut in, "Excuse me."

As his father had told him time and time again: Sometimes you have to do things yourself.

The room shifted its attention to him. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his hand raised slightly with his pen, gesturing vaguely. "Your age is not really the main concern, Miss Ln. Not for me, at least." Your eyes had narrowed slightly on him, and he straightened in his chair. "The concern is that, while your résumé and references are good, your experience is lacking. This would be your first corporate job and we're looking for someone who could reliably carry out what we have outlined their duties to be."

That was how it should have been worded. That was how his father would have worded it.

"Then based off my references, Mr. Choi, would it not be safe to say that I am a reliable person?" It was definitely safe to say that you knew your way around words and requirements. There was a defiance about you that he couldn't deny, something rare that prodded at the back of his mind. It told him that if he didn't snatch you up now, someone else would.

When the interview ended, Soobin tucked the pen behind his ear once more. It was customary for interviewers to wait until the interviewee had left the room before they could leave, as well. They would think over their notes tonight before coming to a decision on all of the candidates tomorrow morning.

That feeling pricked at the back of Soobin's mind as he stood from his seat and hustled over to the elevator. He went down to the lobby, where he spotted you just pushing out the main glass doors.

"Miss Ln!"

Your head perked up at the sound of your name being shouted over the hustle and bustle of the Gotham City streets. Strands of your hair, windswept under the forever-overcast sky, blew across your face and you reached up to brush them out of your eyesight as you marked the young Choi heir making his way over to you. He was tall—perhaps around six foot or taller—with a crisp suit and that blue ballpoint pen behind one ear. The dark circles rimming his dark eyes were charming like his black bangs swept up by the breeze.

You didn't know what to say to him, really, but here you were—stopping and awaiting his thoughts. Soobin was grateful you did. There was something irking him about you, something he couldn't put his finger on. Anyone else would have stopped him, begged him for the position. He was younger, impressionable, a Choi.

You waited.

"I just wanted to say," he said, nodding, "good luck." He choked out the words, not because they tasted bitter on his tongue, but because he hadn't even known why he had chased you down in the first place.

Your eyes glanced at him up and down, but you were nodding back at him. You suddenly looked so uncomfortable in that formal wear. "Thank you."

Soobin heard the distant cries of his name from down the street—aw fuck. Just as he ducked back into the building, you had disappeared into the crowd. He hoped he might see you again.

[1 year later.]

"H-he has a young woman in ther—"

"Sick," twenty-one-year-old Choi Yeonjun said, patting the man on the head. The bank teller quivered like a leaf in the wind in the presence of Gotham's Red Hood. "Thanks, man."

As Yeonjun stepped over the fallen bodies of his victims—they didn't even deserve the label of "victim" when they had been the ones robbing this joint—he replaced the cartridge of his pistols. They were twins, pearl handles with just a touch of gold that he loved to twirl around in his hands. His father always rolled his old man eyes when he showboated, but Yeonjun never thought of it as showboating, rather an art. There were moments where he preferred the heft and damage of an AK-47, but his babies were always there for him, too.

He adjusted the crimson mask seated securely over his entire face; the metal was warm with his breathing, but he had gotten used to the suffocating feeling.

His old man would murder him if his face was seen while he was "serving justice" or whatever.

It was a shame that this last dude had taken a hostage though. That meant traumatized victim, a much more careful shot needed, and a whole lot of—

"Fuck you!"

He stopped clean at the threshold of the main vault at the back of the Gotham Bank (yes, the so-called "joint") as he watched the young woman in question, you, twist your captor's arm behind his back and pin him to the ground beneath the sole of your three-inch heel. He had gone red in the face, him and his bald ass head.

What a view. Yeonjun whistled lowly before he could stop himself.

Both heads looked up to watch him walk in. He caught the way your shoulders tensed at the sight of him, and he opened three of his fingers in each hand and showed his palms like his own way of raising his hands. "Hey, darlin', we're on the same side."

Your hair fell in disarray around your head and face, and your mascara had smudged around your eyes, but it didn't discount the sharp narrowing of them. "What took you so long? Aren't you supposed to be the hero or something?"

"Okay, first of all, I'm not a hero—" he blinked and sent a bullet through the robber's upper thigh. You shrieked, leaping away from him and Yeonjun, who suspected that you now thought of him as a maniac. Good. "—I'm just the dude who's trying to serve justice or something."

Yeonjun holstered his two baby pistols into the holsters on either side of his belt. "And second, that was—"

The sharp cry of sirens pierced the air, and he could hear the caws of incoming cops and their thundering footsteps heading right toward his and your location. Yeonjun swore under his breath, his instincts kicking in.

"Well, that's my cue to leave." He whirled on his heel and saluted you. "See ya!"

He ducked into the shadows of the hallway just outside the vault, and waited for the police to run past him with their blaring walkie talkies. They would find you in the carnage, no gun in sight, but with a wounded bad guy at your feet and a bullet hole in his thigh.

Yeonjun's head thumped back against the wall; he bit his lip beneath the mask. Fuck it, you were gonna be fine.

He had thought that, and yet, here he now sat, lounging in the passenger seat of your car in the alleyway by the bank, biding his time. His mask and dark brown leather jacket laid discarded at his booted feet, his aching arms given breathing room through his white muscle tee. He stretched out the kinks in his neck, hand running through his damp, black hair.

He was waiting.

Literally waited an hour and a half. Or maybe it was just half an hour. Sue him, he was hungry.

Finally, you rounded the corner to the symphony of your car unlocking. It gave a delightfully loud chirp and it knocked the drowsiness right out of his brain. Thank god there was still some light out or else you might have screamed. Instead, you stopped right outside your car, in front of the windshield with your eyes wide. (Actually, you didn't feel like the "scream in fright" type. It was more like "inhale sharply.")

Yeonjun didn't know what he was doing, to be honest. Then again, he never knew what he was doing. He smiled lazily at you and gave a small wave.

You must have had some kind of death wish, because you approached the car with him still in it, and he hadn't even introduced himself yet. Or maybe, he didn't have to introduce himself.

Your eyes narrowed again for the second time he had seen you. Was that your tell? Your thing?

Carefully, you tugged the driver's door open, but remained behind it and did not get in with him. Smart girl. "What the hell do you want and how the fuck did you get in here?"

"You kiss your mama with that mouth, darlin’?" He teased before he could stop himself. What could he say? He was a "shoot first, ask questions later" type of guy. His father hated that about him.

"Why are you in my car?"

He shook his head and let out a noise akin to feigned exasperation. "Just tryin' to make sure they didn't give you shit."

"I didn't see you in the bank, Choi Yeonjun."

Bingo. He smiled. "I like to be noticed when I wanna be noticed."

Your head cocked to the side. "I guess I believe you." You gestured to him vaguely with a lazy hand. "D'you mind?"

He sat up in the passenger seat and gestured his hand back toward you and the driver's seat. Maybe if his smile had widened, your eye would have twitched. There was something so amusing about him gradually frustrating you. "No, not at all."

Your pretty eyes rolled; he laughed.

"Okay, okay. Got the message." He briefly raised his hands in mock surrender, then leaned down to collect his red mask in the fabric of his brown leather jacket. He hadn't even bothered to remove or hide his pearl-handled pistols from his side holsters as he removed himself from your car.

A smirk flickered to his lips—out of your sight, of course—when he heard you sputter, "Wait—"

"Later, darlin'!" And then he was gone, out of your sight, as if he had been only a shadow from your memory.

You wondered if this day could get even weirder or even worse than it already was.

Exhaustion coursed through your veins as you slipped into the driver's seat and pulled out onto the main street. First, it was the strange email you'd received about a problem with your bank account. Then, it was whatever that interaction was. Choi Yeonjun as the Red Hood? Or perhaps only covering for one of the city’s resident vigilantes? But then, for what reason? If not for all of the trouble, you would have been home already; your joints loosened at the thought of coming home to your mom, pets, and something warm for dinner.

Brain muddied like a Gotham gutter during the wet season, the last thing that you wanted to worry about right now was how a Choi heir was connected to a vigilante.

When you arrived on your street, you pulled into the alley beside your complex and pushed back out into the grainy, Gotham evening.

Your head cocked to the side at the sound of loud meowing. As you approached the door, you could hear scratching from the other side.

Strange. Your cats usually knew to not scratch the doors anymore, and why wasn't your mom getting them to stop?

With a reprimand on your lips, you pushed your way in. “Guys, who is…”

A scream was left caught in your throat.

You felt yourself stumble forward into your home, the floorboards patterned in bloody paw prints, multicolored fur swarming your legs and meowing at you in distress.

Out—had they been trying to get out?

“Mom?” Your voice sounded strangled. “Mama?”

Bile crawled up your throat and your palm slammed against the side wall to keep yourself upright. You couldn’t get your eyes off of your mother’s taut and ashen skin, lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling, a bullet hole through her temple. Blood seeped into the floorboards to stain the wood beneath her limp body, and you were choking, hacking at the metal filling up your lungs.

You stumbled toward her body and blood oozed into the material of your pants as you knelt by her body to feel for her pulse.

Dead. Deaddeaddeaddead.

Your hands stained with your mother’s crimson life force stained your hands and trembled as you searched your body for your phone. You—what were—what was the number? Who did this? This couldn’t be real.

Blood rushed into your ears; you couldn’t hear the sirens, couldn’t hear the voice on the other end of the phone.

Your mind had gone blank, mouth dry, and you sat down on the ground next to your mother’s body, your tears slipping down the slopes of your cheeks to land on her own face.

Dead, how could she be dead? How was this real?

A mass of fur appeared in the corners of your vision and you followed their gaze back toward the front door. And for a chilling moment, you were stone-cold sober. There was a note staked into the doorframe: A Debt Repaid.

a/n: pls remember to comment and reblog!

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[confused-wanderer]

How would Jason react, or even know about Bruce nearly killing the joker?

He doesn’t hear it from Damian, Dick nor Barbara. It’s only when a few years have passed and relations between Bruce and him slowly start cooling that he starts being able to return to the Manor more often without feeling pangs of guilt, longing, nostalgia and overall the Lazarus Pit screaming to be let out.

However, he isn’t dumb. Whenever he complains to Tim about how Tim’s been treated better and loved more than he was, he’s quick to notice how Tim’s jaw tenses, with fingers spastic as if they wanted to curl into fists. Nor does he miss what Tim whispers under his breath twenty minutes later.

If only you knew..

Bruce keeps trying to make amends, tries engaging with him face to face before a few bullets got the message across and he retreated. But Jason could still feel him waiting, hovering, for the signal to light up and let him know he was needed.

He could go to hell though.. Every single time he looked at Bruce he felt safe, followed by fierce anger burning through his veins. He hated that he felt at ease when Bruce entered. Hated that he almost fell back into their old banter. Hated that he missed him. Hated that he still trusted him.

Hated that he still loved him.

One night, after giving Bruce the cold shoulder the entire time and watching in satisfaction as Bruce’s shoulder slumped in defeat, he felt the sudden need to comfort him. He’s the batman, he chided himself. If he could get over your death, he can get over this.

Standing out on the balcony, he never spoke to the presence already there.

“Master Jason..”

“Hey Alfred, it’s pretty cold out you sure you’d be fine?”

“I’ve faced worse winters.”

Jason sighed. That old man always had an air of expectancy around him, just like when he was robin, like a mother waiting for their child to tell them what they did wrong.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what the bloody hell you think you’re doing?”

That caught Jason’s attention. Hatred and stoic ness quickly melted and all he could do was stare at him in shock.

“Why are you tormenting him?”

“Are you fucking kidding me??-“ “Language master Jason.”

“Alfred. You were there.”

“There was nothing master Bruce could do to save you-”

“I DONT CARE ABOUT THAT ALFRED! He-“

Shoulders slumped, he looked down.

“He replaced me.” Jason whispered. “He didn’t even wait till my body was cold he just fucking went ahead and replaced me. Even after knowing I died, he still put another child in that suit, MY suit! And then, HE DIDNT EVEN AVENGE ME!! He just took Joker back to Arkham, which is basically just like a vacation for him, and LEFT. After all these-”

A shivering cold current of electricity ran through his body and he could feel the Lazarus Pit rising, making his body grow colder by the second.

“After all this time.. he never did anything.” Jason muttered. “So yeah, not only was knowing I was dead for four years a slap to the face.. but to come back home to find another kid in my room and business as usual? As if I never existed? That just made me realise I didn’t matter.”

CLINK

The tea cup in Alfred’s hands was shaking, and a wave of concern overtook Jason. He was about to reach a hand out to steady it when Alfred put the cup down, sighed and looked at the moon.

“Master Bruce never gave Robin to Tim. I did.”

“.. Come again?”

“I gave it to him myself. After you died.. he was a shell of himself. He started pushing himself more, brutalising criminals to the point of hospitalisation. After you died.. a big part of him did too. He refused to be around people, friends, to be happy, to eat. He was punishing himself for your death by refusing to live. And I never forgot you either my boy.. Every night for months I stood by the windows, staying awake and looking outside..hoping to catch a glimpse of you. For the first time in my life I prayed for you to be beaten and bruised, but alive. Locked myself in your room, in your memories, as if standing over your bed was guarding you even in death..Master Bruce missed you so much he played tapes of your missions, just to hear your laugh.”

The older man shook his head and refused to look at him.

“He rejected Tim, but I couldn’t watch him destroy himself. I’d already lost one son..” Alfred paused, looking at Jason with such fondness and pain. “ I wasn’t going to lose another.”

A long pause lingered in the air, and Jason could hear his heart racing as it processed what he’d heard.

“As for Joker,” Jason looked up, and saw the most terrifying scowl he’d ever seen before, with eyes filled with hatred and a craving for retribution.

“Jason Bruce almost killed him too. Like you said, I was there. I was always there. He had chas- hunted Joker down, torturing him slowly and violently until the air was thick with his screams. How every bone was shattered, with so much blood you couldn’t even tell the tiles underneath were white.”

Alfred closed his eyes, and Jason couldn’t help feel that though he was remembering the scene, he was also reveling in it. “His body shattered, smile gone replaced with pain and the howls of misery that he emitted that night.. alas-”

“He didn’t kill him.”

Alfred’s eyes bore into his, and reflected the darkness of the shimmering sky.

“You’re not hearing me. He damn well nearly did. There are things worse than death in this world and Bruce made sure to make Joker feel every single.one. But Superman.. heard him. He heard the roars of fury and grief, and stopped him. All while Bruce stood over the broken body of what once was human. All while muttering your name over and over again, like it was a prayer that kept him grounded. With every hit he took, with every ounce of pain he delivered, he did it with your name on his lips.”

They both just stood there.. shadows in fading moonlight as the noises of life started waking the world with their song.

“Unfortunately, his voice was recorded on one of those surveillance cameras. Tim wiped it, but we kept one copy.. and though the footage is corrupted, the sound is crystal clear.”

Alfred hesitated, before gently cupping Jason’s hands and placing a cold weight on them.

“I hope you never hear it..my boy. I’d rather you burnt it. But if you want to hear the raw truth.. I wanted you to have proof.”

Sunlight burst through the horizon, and with it came the dawn of a new time.

Jason heard the tape as soon as he left.

And burnt it right after.

Alfred was right.

All he had heard were the guttural cries of a broken man..

A father, grieving for his son.

Jason finding out Dick killed joker post:

[bookwormlover10]

So au idea Jason doesn't get adopted by Bruce Wayne but he does get adopted by A Batman....a tomorrow knight.....

So my idea is that somehow Terry mcginnis finds himself in the past of Gotham ( yes I'm going by Dcau continuity so it after after batman the animated series but before the new batman adventures is the time I'm thinking of this time misplaced.) So anyway Terry somehow find himself in crime Ally were he stumbled upon a young Jason Todd is trouble ( can't think if he's getting beat up or chase. You decide of the conflict) Terry being the hero that he is, no matter what time he's in, saves the little punk.

" you ok little guy?" Terry asked after the rescue. Young Jason is obviously ( and reasonably) scared out of his mind. Sure he has heard of the batman on the streets, even seen some photos of him in the newspapers. But batman looked like he was a demon from hell. Young Jason mind was quick change when the not batman gaved him his first real meal is week when he notices Jason stomach growled. ( How did Terry get the food might you ask ? Cause he's batman duh.)

With miraculously avoiding the young batman of the time, Terry does find a way back to his time, But a little someone tags along " come back with a souvenir, I see." The elderly Bruce Wayne says. This confused Terry so he says " what souvenir?" Then the elder Batman point his cane to Terrys leg so were young Jason Todd is hanging off of.

( it a good thing to mention that this is a little after return of the joker so old Timmy todd is here.) everyone is obviously freaking out. A literal child from 40 ish in the past is in their present. Tim recognized Jason Todd as they grew up together in crime Ally and the fact both their dad's worked for two face back in the day. Tim remembers Jason disappearing two weeks after Jasons dad got arrested and a year before he became Robin.

This is bad that means that Jason was ment to be here and if they send him back it could cause a time paradox. The question was now was what to do with the little punk. Tim thinks that Jason should go with him given their history. He's pretty sure that his wife wouldn't mind having an other kid around the house. Barbara even volunteers giving that her and Sam never had kids of their own. But Jason has already got attached to Terry and with won't let go of him, no matter how the other have try. He has already has chosen him emotional support batman. So Terry makes a decision....

Later Dana gets a call from Terry to meet up her at some place. When Dana gets there Terry says " I should of told you this a while ago but I'm batman." And before Dana has time to process this Terry then says " and I've recently become an teen father." Then he pulls out Jason from nowhere. " This is Jason my adoption son." ( "Dana meet our adopted son Jason." Terry probably.) Dana then also adopted Jason seeing that the little guy is so cute. It was also weird when Terry went home to explain to his mom and brother that they were now a grandma and uncle. ( Even when the child was around Matt's age.) max was also surprised with she Heard the story

Bruce legally has custody of Jason,until Terry turn 18 in a couple of months. Bruce is now Jason grandpa in this au and with tim and Barbara are his aunt's and uncles. ( I haven't decided if Jason becomes Terry Robin or not. It's your decision really. But hay at least the joker is already dead if he does)

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

*bonus*

Tim: I always thought that Terry brother was going be his first robin. Not I owe dick 50 creds.

Barbara: you make a bet with your brother. Wait dick has never met Terry how does he know that he has a brother.

Tim: he's Nightwing duh

Barbara: of course he is ( facepalm)

Bruce:( is dialing someone)

Barbara: and who are you calling ?

Bruce : Wally West cause now I owe him 100 creds cause me and him make a bet if Terry was ever getting a Robin.

Barbara: ugh ( facepalm again.)