#bruce is a mediocre parent at best and has not been a good parent to jason in a long time

[undertheredhood]

jason todd at all times: y'know, i think i'm doing pretty good for myself as someone who's had four parents that i was never enough for.

[gonnalosemydougdimmadomedamnmind]

Batman beyond the white knight is apparently a universe where jason??? Is the first Robin?? And dick uses the name as his stage name until he becomes Robin?? Am I the only one that thinks this is extremely disrespectful??? Like What were you fucking thinking writers??? Just where did the name come from then??? Like where did Robin come from then??? If Dick isn't the first??? Role reversal doesn't mean other people would somehow have a connection to that name. The connection comes from Dick. The meaning comes from Dick. You can't have Robin without Dick. Those two are one and the same. Everything about Robin came from Dick. Everything that made people look at this kid and go, 'What a Boy Wonder! He can do anything.' comes from Dick. Like you can't have Nightwing without Clark Kent because that's the origin. That's where it came from. Those are its bones. Is anyone else so tired of seeing things just get taken and taken and taken from Dick without any regard to his character or legacy?

Edit: there's a reply in the reblogs I'd like to address. The idea of jason being batman's first sidekick- it actually doesn't work. It won't work with Tim, Steph, or Duke either. The whole reason batman gets a sidekick is because bruce takes in Dick and the reason why he takes Dick in is because he sees himself in Dick in a way he'll never see himself in the others. Jason is a poor kid from the streets, bruce will never identify with that. Dick is a prodigious circus star. Bruce will also, never identify with that.

But.

Dick has just watched his parents get murdered right in front of him due to a senseless act of violence, his entire life changes in an instant in the worst way possible, and he's all alone and hurting and angry and shocked and will blame himself for not being able to save them and that- that Bruce knows intimately. That is why he takes Dick in. They are the same, 17 or so years apart. If you took Dick out of the equation, they never met, but jason still steals the tires off the batmobile- Bruce would just get those tires back and tell the kid to go home or take him to a shelter or something. Bruce would care about him the way he cares about all of Gothams street kids or orphans, but not anything more than that. There's nothing special about Jason until he knows and cares for Dick, because Jason reminds him of Dick. And Dick opens his heart up in a way no one else has managed since his parents died. The next closest is probably Clark.

And being the first sidekick, really being the first child hero, is obviously a daunting undertaking, a lot of responsibility, something that requires perfection in order to be taken seriously by the adult heroes and the public at large. If Robin had been mediocre, no, if Robin had been just 'good', there would've been a lot more pushback, an outcry, a dismissal of batman himself from the OG heroes. The first sidekick has to be Perfect.

Who is literally known for being a perfectionist? For working himself to the bone but seemingly effortlessly? For always knowing the answer, the right action to take, to read and adjust himself and others accordingly in order to produce the best team effort, who has an athleticism and physicality Bruce instantly realizes he, himself, does not possess? Who is known for being the poster child of the ideal child hero/sidekick that grows into the ideal adult hero as well? Dick is the only one that could've been the first sidekick. He was So Good at being a hero while being a child, he opened up the door for other kids to do the same.

You can't switch these roles up without changing something fundamental to the characters. And then. They wouldn't be those characters.

[brutaliakent]

// Not Tim Drake friendly

Like idk how to start this but I'll just profess by saying that majority of what I talk about is about his fanon characterisation and if you get offended then in the nicest way possible idgaf

Like why is Tim so fucking infantalized in fanon like some of his fans so obsessed with making him oppressed and a victim when he's not. Its like him in comics canon and him potrayed by fandom by 90% of fics I've read are two totally different person.

He's like a mediocre person in comics at best, I dont like him but I dont mind him either. Also he is written as a misogynist and his treatment of his gfs is abominable but I let it slide cuz maybe it was the writers fault idk

But the way fans potray him to be this holier than thou- never doing anything wrong and smartest robin (cue eyeroll) is wild and wholey inaccurate cuz like he's not. Canonically they're all similar iq and they're all trained by a detective so they're quite good at it, Dick was a mathelete and Jason had solid GPA of 94.8 and Tim dropped out of school to search for Bruce. He is tech savvy and good at computers but he's not the only one from the batfamily to be that is he, I'd say Barbara is the best at that but don't forget Dick used to be a hacker too like I've seen some of yall treat him as this one dimensional sunshine person who has eldest daughter syndrome but like he also has temper and he's clever and sharp and if I'm not wrong he even as degree in Business in main dc universe but that's besides the point

Also headcanoning him as asian feels weird and very playing into stereotype of asians being this super smart people (when there's no proof he's anything but white in canon)

Fanon also for some strange reasons hold on to Jason and Damian trying to kill him and saying how much it would have caused him trauma while completely removing him from the scene except for that scenario. Let me explain for example Damian trying to kill him where they forget the instigator of some are Tim too like he was legit 17 yr old beefing with 10 yr old bffr, did we also collectively ignore him putting the same 10 yr old on a hitlist like... yall act like this was a buffet and you can pick and choose but the thing is that you can pick and choose what to accept from canon but if you're picking Tim being attacked by Dami then maybe mention what he did too instead of victimizing him

Just kinda throwing it in here cuz we're talking about it, Dick didnt fire Tim from Robin because of bad faith, I'm pretty sure it was Alfred who gave Damian the Robin suit first but Dick didnt want Tim to be Robin because Dick saw Tim as an equal rather than a sidekick.

Also the big deal of Jason's attack on Titans Tower irks me a little but like pls remember that Jason made a last minute decision to go there and just beat the shit out of Tim and that's it and it wasnt nice of him to do that but I support his wrongs too

Since we're talking about Titans Tower fics anyways I also find it incredibly peculiar that writers (fanfic) potray him much younger than he was like Tim was 17 during UTRH and around 19 during Teen Titans #29

(Also pretty sure like 99.9% sure that Jason calling Tim 'Replacement' also came from fanon and it was from j*yt*m shippers so like 😵‍💫,, although Jason did call him 'Pretender' in Batman Hush a few times)

(Also highjacking this to talk about Pit madness cuz for some reason there are too many fics about it so like please remember that pit madness and the extent of it is just a fanon thing there is no proof of it happening for more than 5 mintues in canon and Jason was not the only one besides Ra's to use it but Cassandra has also been in the pit... So like yeah Jason did some fucked up shit post resurrection and he did it willingly no supernatural green pool was involved and its ok ❤️, like let him be his own person)

That went majorly off tangent,,, anyways also Tim was never abused physically or otherwise by his parents, they neglected him and child abandonment too for sure (ALSOOOO He spent more thanhalf of his school life in boarding school so it probably won't count as child abandonment but I dont know if its canon to main universe so I'm just putting it out there)

Adding to that is a fanfic issue that is around the potrayal of him in fics where Jason didnt die or wouldn't die and Tim joined the family early, most of those are pretty harmless and wholesome and this is not the critique of those writers so don't take personally but idk how it got so polarising and popular that Tim was a tiny kid and when he and Jason met younger (most fics I've read were from 3rd pov or Jason's pov) and in most of them it is stated that Tim is smaller for his age and Jason mistakes him for a younger age which just doesnt make sense. Like it would be one thing for someone else like Dick or Bruce to make that assumption and entirely different for Jason cuz CANONICALLY Jason was shorter at 15 than Tim was at 13 and it makes sense cuz Jason was malnourished which resulted in stunted growth rate, so like you're telling me that Jason at 15 saw 13 year old Tim and assumed he was 9 like it just doesnt make sense to me

And look this may be seen as nitpicks (and it probably is) but if it was in smaller quantity it could be ignorable but its everywhere and my patience is not endless and I'm fucking tired of him.

Also just to throw that in that all the bulleted points while in themselves alone may seem annoying but harmless, arent all of them together as fanon perception of him just infantalising him overall like its not they're true or anything...

Like lets be real Tim was just a blatant robin self insert, he was 13 when he went to a grieving father whos son was recently murdered and basically blackmailed him into making him robin cuz he thought "Batman needs a Robin" like dude you're 13... also can you imagine how Bruce must have felt in situation like but I dont think blaming Tim for this is right cuz he was a child and he didn't know better

Glorifying a white, rich (because yes he was rich enough to be neighbours with Wayne) character and demeaning and villanising a person of color and a dead poor person (cant keep track of how many times there's implied or outright said that Jason's death is his fault and how Tim's much smarter than Jason and better than him despite having no street smarts on him and being a trust fund baby)

Howevere, it'll be incredibly in poor taste to say that those weren't rooted in racism and classism [because they were] and its not Tim's fault his writers were disgusting but it is furthered and accepted and preached in fanon so like that's no excuse imo

Also if we include him with Robins he is not that special like he dont stick out ... and he terribly lacks any creativity and imagination like he took the mantle of robin and then red robin which like he didnt think through.

And like I'm not dismissing his trauma from attempts on his death but he was robin for 3-4 years before Jason tried to kill him I'm plenty sure he's used to his life being in danger comes with job description and if he didnt want that.. well nobody asked him he served himself on silver platter to be traumatised so yeah

So yeah fanon tim is my number one enemy and idc about him in canon and if you disagree with this please make your own post

This was a long vent of a short(lmao) list of just things that bother me

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Omg Grayson at this art show to support Damien but also to talk to teacher!reader

Dick sipped a little cup of fruit punch and smiled a little. Damian, of course, was leaning against a wall looking surly and disinterested, but, when you clicked by on your heels and said something to him, his face lightened, just a little.

After some digging, it didn't take Dick long to learn why. You were the only teacher that ever said anything about him was good. Even the not so good things you had to send home were more worried about him than frustrated.

"It looks nice, Dami," Dick said, coming to lean on the wall next to him.

"Of course it does," he scoffed.

"Miss Y/L/N has an eye for talent-"

"Please. Everyone else was incompetent. Let's not go overboard."

Dick ruffled his hair unphased, "Did you at least thank her for trying to make this less miserable?"

"It's a celebration of mediocrity."

"Dami." Dick looked down at the kid and suppressed a sigh with difficulty before glancing at where you were talking to parents. Explaining the different assignments kids had done and how pieces had been selected from each grade, he imagined. He and Bruce had never bothered to go to one of these little showcase things. But Bruce was doing his best to not look bored to death.

He'd showed up for Damian but was patently disinterested in any other kids' work- which was fair. And at least he seemed to not be flirting with you. That, for whatever reason made Dick feel irritated.

Watching the way some of the dads were watching you made his skin crawl. And it didn't take an expert to see you were similarly not a fan.

Still. Things were winding down now. Families were gathering their kids to go do- whatever it was people did after these things when they didn't have to suit up and prowl the city.

And as he watched you excuse yourself to start gathering programs that had been discarded, his eyes narrowed. A man old enough to be your father had evidently also realized you weren't standing near any children and decided this was his chance to say something... indecent.

Not today, asshole.

Dick pushed himself off the wall and strolled forward, scooping up a stack of papers on the way; figuring it would look less creepy if he was being helpful. "It all looked really good," he said, holding them out with his best charming smile.

"I- oh- thank you," You take them, juggling clumsily for a second to add them to the ones you already collected before pushing your glasses up.

"I don't know if you remember me," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "We uh, only met for a secon-"

"Damian's older brother," you answer smiling.

"Right." He laughed and glanced briefly over your shoulder to watch the middle-aged horn dog amble away, defeated.

"Damian talks about you a lot," you tell him, lowering your voice slightly, glancing at where he'd gone to sulk next to Bruce.

Dick felt his face heat and he coughed slightly, "I uh- good things I hope."

"Mostly," you answer. Your polite smile turning into a grin as you crinkle your nose.

The heat he felt intensified and Dick brushed hair out of his eyes, "I won't keep you," he said, fidgeting with your stack of papers. "I just- I guess I just wanted to say thanks. Last year at school was hard on him. We were all a little relieved when he came home the first day and said it was 'Fine just horribly dull' instead of declaring he'd never go back."

"High praise indeed," you snort.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "So uh- thanks."

"He's gifted," you answer shrugging, your smile softening a little.

"Do me a favor?" Dick asked.

"Hmm?"

"Don't tell him that," he said. "His ego doesn't need the help."

[wonderlandleighleigh]

How’s our friend L.Roy.Dunham? Busy typing shit about Danishes? (Ps, I’m really loving of this fic <3)

(Too tired to link. If you've been reading the Turnover Danish fics, you know.)

"'...seen at the bar at Upstairs at the Downstairs after Mrs. Maisel's set (mediocre at best), comfortably in each other's personal space as they shared some sort of pastry and ordered drinks. Leaving together an hour later after a long conversation-'" Archie stops reading, leaning back in his chair and looking up at Joel. "I don't see the problem. This is a good thing. Midge has a guy! You have Mei!"

"Midge does not have a guy," Joel snaps. "Midge has Lenny fucking Bruce. Lenny fucking Bruce, Archie!"

Archie slumps in his chair, looking to the Button Club's ceiling. "Who cares?"

"Me," Joel snaps. "I care. Arch- I'm the only reason she even knew who Lenny Bruce was." He shakes his head. "This is revenge in its purest form."

"I don't know," Archie says skeptically. "Maybe they just met and fell for each other. Midge is a looker, and she's real funny."

"Eating a Danish together," Joel grumbles as he paces. "We used to eat Danish together."

"You traded Danish for buns, my friend," Archie reminds him. "And speaking of buns...and ovens..."

Joel huffs out a breath. " I know. I know! None of this matters because I have Mei, I Just-" he sits finally, looking at Archie guiltily. "Before Midge went on tour, I kind of..."

Archie squeezes his eyes shut. 'Tell me you didn't sleep with Midge again."

"A momentary lapse in judgement!" Joel assures him. "She turned me down, and things were...weird. Awkward. And then she left and came back from tour and she was fine. Like she forgot all about it."

"But that's good!" Archie tells him. "She's not holding it against you, she's not making you feel bad about it. She's over it."

"Because she has Lenny fucking Bruce!" Joel cries, getting up again.

"Again, I say, who cares?!" Archie cries. "You had a weird moment. You avoided total disaster thanks to Midge. Now you're back to being co-parents and almost friends! There's no bad here, Joel."

"Lenny fucking Bruce."

Archie sighs hard. "Fuck."

[red-jaebyrd]

Good Talk, Headmaster

This fic is based on this post by @nightwingthebooty. Thanks for the inspiration

There was an awkward silence that hovered over the three occupants in the spacious office of the headmaster of West-Reeve Academy. Bruce could feel a tension headache starting to rise behind his left eye radiating to his left temple. The person responsible for said tension headache was sitting the a chair right next to him with graceful aloofness.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce asked, through gritted teeth.

“Excuse me, I can’t have an interest in my son’s ‘education’?” Talia answered, making air quotes as she said the last word.

“You’ve never shown an interest in anything regarding our son,” Bruce retorted. “Why start now?”

“I do when certain decisions interfere with my child’s wellbeing.”

“Since when?” Bruce challenged, turning in his seat to face Talia.

“Since now. Honestly, Bruce, this is the best you’ve decided for our son?” Talia argued, gesturing toward the Headmaster. “This mediocre institution is stifling our son’s potential.”

“Ms al Ghul, if I may interject. This is the best private institution in the East Coast; and Damian is excelling in all subjects,” Headmaster Adams said, gesturing at the open file in front of him.”

“If that is the case then why are we here?” Talia sneered, tilting her head.

“It is a matter of your son’s behavior and actions toward other teachers and fellow students.” Headmaster Adams said, squirming under Talia’s glare.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, fighting hard not to sag his shoulders in defeat.

“Numerous times Damian has interrupted a professor mid lecture to argue and inform the teacher that and I quote…” Adams paused to direct his attention to the sheet of paper and read from it. “…your inaptitude to accurately teach the true events of this particular moment in history is a direct reflection of the limits of your mediocre and outdated education.”

“He said this to a teacher?” Bruce asked, sitting straighter in his chair. Bruce was taken aback by this new information. They had discussed on many occasions that challenging the professor was acceptable. Insulting the professor was not.

“That is correct, Mr Wayne. Damian made him cry. Took a whole day to get Professor Axel out of his office.”

“Was Damian, at the very least, correct in his assessment of the subject matter being discussed?”

“Talia, that’s not the point,” Bruce countered, placing his hand on his head in exasperation. He took a breath and addressed the Headmaster. “I will discuss this matter with Damian –“

“Why should you? There is nothing to discuss if Damian was correct. He was taught by the best tutors money could buy when he lived with me.”

“That’s the problem, Talia. He never should have been living with you in the first place,” Bruce retorted.

“I’ll have you know that while he was living with me, he was –“

Headmaster Adams loudly cleared his throat.

“If we may continue, there is also the matter of Damian’s interaction with other students,” Adams continued, clasping his hands together.

“Oh boy,” Bruce muttered, scrubbing his face harshly. “Whose nose did he break this time?”

“No, no. Mr Jefferies has steered clear of Damian since their altercation on the grounds at the start of term. No one will even come near Damian now, except the Kent boy, but he talks to everyone,” Adams cleared his throat again. “Anyway, regarding Damian, he’s quite protective of the younger students and he also helps many of the other students with their homework.”

“Where is the concern?” Talia asked, crossing her arms.

“We also discovered that Damian was helping a number of our high school students with their homework. Some had him help them with college entrance exams.”

“And by ‘helping’ do you mean providing them with the answers and doing their homework?” Bruce questioned, slowly starting to sag in his chair.

“No, nothing like that; he was charging a fee for his services. A very sizable fee if I’m being honest.”

“As he should,” Talia remarked, sitting back and gazing at her nails. “Considering the staff you have employed here your students need all the help they can get.”

“Talia, you’re not helping,” Bruce hissed, leaning forward resting his elbows on his knees.

“He even drummed up a contract,” Adams said, producing a piece of paper and handing it to Bruce. “By the looks of it he had it notarized.”

“As he should,” Talia remarked, pulling out a glass file from her purse and filing her nails. “My son is not an idiot.”

“So he wasn’t cheating, just tutoring and essentially helping older students prepare for college tests,” Bruce inquired, handing the contract back to the professor.

“Yes, but we can’t have him charging money for those kinds of services,” Adams reiterated, folding his hands in front of him.

“Why not? These students’ parents would likely pay for the same services to an outsider. How convenient for these students to find someone ‘in house’,” Talia challenged, taking the contract from the desk and looking it over. “T-T, you are worth so much more than this, my son.”

Bruce snatched the paper back from Talia and placed it back onto the professor’s desk. He didn’t want to admit it. Fuck he hated that he agreed with every single word she just said. The worst part was having to admit it out loud that Talia al Ghul was finally right about a matter concerning their son.

“She’s right, Professor,” Bruce said, sitting up straighter in his chair. “Damian wasn’t cheating or breaking any laws or school policies. He was providing a service to students to help better their education. Are any of the parents complaining?

“No.”

“Are any of the students complaining?” Bruce asked.

“No.”

“Then we are done here,” Talia declared, picking up her handbag and standing up.

“We are not done here, Ms al Ghul,” Adams squeaked, straightening himself in his chair. “The issue at hand –“

Talia set her handbag down on the chair and walked closer to the desk. Holding her glass file in her hand as she addressed the Headmaster.

“Do you know who I am, Headmaster?” Talia inquired in a low tone, reaching over the desk and closing the open file on Damian.

The Headmaster glanced at Bruce, but Bruce kept his face neutral, sat back in his chair and got comfortable. The Headmaster swallowed thickly and nodded in response to Talia’s question.

“The only issue I see here are the fragile egos of second-rate teachers at an overrated institution,” Talia continued, keeping the tone of her voice low. Bruce was familiar with the tactic. Talia used it to intimidate executives in business deals. 

Talia moved back toward the chair and sat down. Depositing her handbag on the floor. 

“There was a lack and my son saw an opportunity to fill a need. Plain and simple,” Talia reiterated, continuing to file her nails. “If it makes you feel any better I will have him redistribute the money back into the school so that you may invest in better resources to help your students flourish. Does this arrangement suffice?” 

The Headmaster was speechless. His mouth kept flapping open and closed like a fish out of water. He kept glancing at Bruce, but Bruce wasn’t going to ruin this moment for Talia. She didn’t need him to interject one bit.

“Good talk, Headmaster,” Talia ended the conversation, gathering her handbag and exiting the office. She waved her hand dismissively. “Until next time.

Bruce got up from his chair and couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. They had finally agreed on something concerning Damian.

“Until next time, Headmaster,” Bruce repeated and held out his hand for the Headmaster to shake.

[hussyknee]

Really triggered because a writer whose fic I was enjoying thinks Bruce is a good father.

"He doesn't show it in words, but actions". NO. Children need both! A child needs to be told they're loved and that their parents are proud of them! And actions? What actions? A tender moment here and there where he holds one of them when they're injured? What kind of pauper's love is that?

It's so hard to not see their opinions as a direct harm to me. All I can hear or remember are people telling me, "Don't take what he says to heart. You know he loves you, no? I've never seen a father do more for his child than yours."

Remember being 21, in the grip of my first bout of devastating major depression, having a nervous breakdown in the backseat of the family car. "Are you even proud of me? Have you ever been proud of me?" Dad, so confounded. "Of course, I'm proud of you! I have always been! Why would you think I wasn't?" Maybe because that was the first time he ever said it? Because of 21 years of nothing but criticism and exacting standards and little praise or acknowledgement, every failure acknowledged in disapproval and punishment? An entire adolescence knowing in my bones that I would never be good enough for him, never be as good as him, a disappointment, failure, burden.

Why would they excuse that? Why do they give him a pass, just because he "tries"? Why are we failures when we come up short, but his attempts are as good as successes?

When someone has an opinion that I hate, I usually just think "they've gone through something I don't know about, and just dealing with it the best they know how". The world is full of people with shitty opinions, conditioned to rush to the defence of privileged mediocrity. My getting mad and arguing the point won't do much other than ruin everyone's day. There's a time and place to stand your ground, and there's so much more awful stuff going on in the real world that we desperately turn to these fantasy lives for refuge. The real estate of imagination is limitless and can safely carry everyone's worlds and wants and desires.

Bruce Wayne is nothing but an 80 year hallucination of men long dead and still living, embodied only in ink and paper. My father, the real flesh and blood man, has been in the ground for seven years. They're nothing but imprints that linger in people's neurons, communicated and rendered imperfectly like a child's game of Pictionary.

They can't hurt me. Nothing will enter my gates than what I allow. I don't live or die by anyone else's approval and validation anymore.

[polyamoryinfandoms]

Monthly Fic Roundup!

Hey gang! I’m posting the fics that were recommended on our last surveymonkey poll; thanks for everyone who recommended fics. Please note I did not get to read every fic on here and depended on your responses and the AO3 tags to mark for any triggers or story notes, so please read with caution if you’re worried about any content warnings!

If you want to recommend more fics, I’ll be posting another roundup poll later in the day today! 

Under the cut are 32 fics from: 

Agents of Shield (1) 

Bill & Ted (1) 

Castlevania (1) 

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (1) 

DCU (2) 

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (4) 

Game of Thrones (1) 

Harry Potter (1) 

Leverage (1) 

Mission Impossible (1 -- series) 

Sanders Sides (1-- series)

Sense8 (1)

Sherlock (1-- series) 

Star Wars (1) 

Stranger Things (8) 

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (1) 

The Untamed/CQL/MDZS (2)

Teen Wolf (2) 

White Collar (1) 

Agents of Shield: 

is it chill that you’re in my head? by lazyfish 

Pairing: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Alphonso Mackenzie

TW/TAGS: PTSD, Referenced Torture

Summary: It doesn't take long for Mack to realize he's in love with Bobbi and Hunter and has been for a while. Other realizations take slightly longer.

Bill and Ted (movie):

Our Home, Our Family, Our Love by CaptainWeasley

Pairing: Bill/Ted/Elizabeth/Joanna

TW/TAGS: slurs, implied/referenced child abuse, internalized homophobia, self harm

Summary: A series of firsts in Ted's life, as he slowly comes to terms with his sexuality and learns how to handle being in love with both his wife and his best friend. When Billie and Thea come out as trans, each in her own way, he does everything he can to help them be who they are.

Castlevania: 

Deliverance by cricketsong1985

Pairing: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades/Alucard

TW/Tags: Blood kink, explicit sexual content,  gore, trauma, angst

Summary: Adrian is beginning to think that Wallachia will be a smoking pile of ash long before he, Trevor, and Sypha can stop Dracula’s war on humanity. They’ve been chasing the castle for months, but each time they get close, it vanishes. Traveling with such genuine and trustworthy allies has been unexpectedly pleasant; Adrian doesn’t mind that Trevor and Sypha are involved with each other, but he is taken entirely by surprise when they open their relationship to him one evening. Hopelessly in over his head, his heart keeps urging him forward, even when he’s forced to confront the darkest aspects of his nature. Adrian must learn to swallow his pride and let himself be vulnerable if he wants a chance at happiness. Unfortunately, there isn’t much time for looking within when the world is drenched in blood and magic, and the path to victory may destroy him completely.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina: 

We will be judged by the courage of our hearts by MagicClem

Pairing: Harvey Kinkle/Sabrina Spellman/Nicholas Scratch

TW/TAGS: mention of an abusive parent 

Summary: It's been a month since the 13 almost destroyed Greendale. Now a full Witch, Sabrina tries to move on, with the help of one Nicholas Scratch.But one night, Harvey arrives at the Spellman's house and everything becomes complicated.

DCU: 

not for the faint of heart by pasdecoeur

Pairing: Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

TW/TAGS: Explicit Sexual Content 

Summary: Clark opens a door that was meant to stay closed. Things spiral. or, What Not To Do When You’ve Fallen in Love with Batman: A Guide by Hal Jordan & Clark Kent.

All Good Things Come in Threes (Legends of Tomorrow) by IncendiaGlacies

Pairing: Gideon/Rip Hunter/Miranda Coburn

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

Summary: “Two is a couple, three is a crowd,” Gideon stated. In which Gideon navigates her polyamorous relationship with Rip and Miranda. Domestic slice of life goodness.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off:

Pairing for all of these are Pairing: Cameron/Ferris/Sloane and are written by @fbdo1986

it’s enough to be whiplash

TW: death mention (no character death), drowning

A/N: To put it plainly, I took a few tricks from John Hughes’s earlier scripts of the film, which were more surreal and up-front with discussing death and end of the world scenarios. It was inspired by a concept that I couldn’t seem to shake after I thought of it: what if the pool scene was just a bit more high stakes?

all the things I never told you 

Summary: It’s Sloane, Ferris, and Cameron’s first afternoon alone at the Bueller residence in months. The busy twenty-four year olds who’ve struggled to find time together as their lives unfold in front of them try to think of what to do for the day when Cameron decides to let them in on what he’s been keeping from them.

bye bye love 

TW: Death mention (none of the main characters)

Summary: A hopefully angsty number that details Sloane’s, Cameron’s, and Ferris’s journey through heartbreak and loss after their Sophomore year in college. The title is named after a song by The Cars by the same name!

firestarter

Prompt #5: Where it doesn’t hurt with the OT3

Game of Thrones: 

Constellatory by blueandbulae

Pairing: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell/Robb Stark (polycule, NO incest) 

TW: Some canon typical violence

Summary: It’s strange and messy and maybe nobody else will ever understand them but it works. It’s theirs, and theirs alone, and nobody can take that from them.Or: Robb and Theon storm King's Landing, rescue the princesses, and save the kingdom. Then comes the hard part.

Harry Potter: 

Unconventional by silver_fish

Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

Summary: A few years, now, have passed since Hedwig’s death, and Hermione thinks it’s time Harry got a new pet. What sort of pet, though, neither she nor Ron know. Not until Harry himself offers her the perfect solution, that is.

Leverage: 

for better or worse (we change together) by idkimoutofideas

Pairing: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer

TW/TAGS: Canon typical violence

Summary: The moment Parker saw the stranger standing by the elevator, a dozen alarm bells went off in her head. She froze, and Hardison nearly walked into her as he entered behind her. It took her a moment to realize that while half of the alarm bells were telling her to get the fuck out of there, the other half were telling her to look closer. Or, Eliot Spencer is a recent war veteran who just moved to Portland in an attempt to lead a calmer lifestyle. He ends up with some weird neighbors, but it's Portland, everyone's a little weird.

Mission Impossible: 

Polyamorous Spies (series of 2 fics) by MagicClem

Pairing: Benji Dunn/Ethan Hunt/Ilsa Faust

TW/TAGS: Blood & injuries (2nd fic) 

Sander’s Sides: 

Love and Other Fairytales by SoDoRoses (Fairychess)

Pairing: LAMP/CALM (Logan, Roman, Virgil, Patton)

TW: violence, major character death, no NSFW in the main fic but there is a side series with NSFW, animal death, description of rot, nonconsentual control of another person, 'like death' state of being

Sense8: 

Crazy Life by MagicClem

Pairing: Kala Dandekar/Wolfgang Bogdanow/Rajan Rasal

Summary: Rajan would admit that this past few years had been crazy and life seems determined to make it crazier and crazier.Or: This is "Amor Vincit Omnia" from Rajan's perspective.

Sherlock: 

Lorem Ipsum by Saathi1013 (series) 

Pairing:  Sherlock Holmes/John Watson/Sarah Sawyer

TW: Abduction

Star Wars:

so just pull the trigger by Darnaguen

Pairing: Han Solo/Qi'ra/Lando Calrissian

TW/TAGS: Alcohol use 

Summary: “Oh, don’t pout Haan.” Lando lounges back, licking his newly berry-tinted lips with a lazy grin. ���You know all you have to do is ask.”(Qi’ra’s eyes are glinting and her smile is dagger-sharp. Han knows the look: it’s one she wears whenever she has a winning hand.The dice on the table are mediocre at best. He shakes his head and drinks deep.)

Stranger Things: 

All pairings are Steve Harrington/Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler

The Hawkins Three by nonymos

TW: Some canon typical homophobia and slurs

Summary: It's two weeks after the Snow Ball, Nancy's officially with Jonathan, and Steve is trying to move forward. If only he wasn't on a path that keeps circling back to the both of them.

lovers in a dangerous time by diogxnes

TW/TAGS: Briefly: panic attacks/PTSD, parental neglect

Summary: “So,” says Robin, sitting back in her chair, “what’s the deal there, anyway? With the whole you-Nancy-Jonathan thing.”The question makes his mouth run dry. Why would she ask that? Can she tell, possibly, how much he’s been thinking about Nancy these past few days? How starstruck he was when Nancy showed up at his house? Does she know about the mysterious warmth in his stomach when he thinks about Jonathan? “What do you mean, the whole me-Nancy-Jonathan thing?” “Come on, Steve. She’s your ex and he famously beat you up two years ago and now they’re dating each other and all three of you somehow ended up a part of this weird little monster-fighting club together. There’s gotta be a story there.”“I don’t know, Robs,” says Steve, rolling his eyes, relieved beyond measure that that’s all she meant. “You pretty much just covered all of it. There’s not much more to tell.”

Have Happened by cortexikid

TW/TAGS: Homophobia

Summary: "I overheard you. You were talking in your sleep.”Steve's heart fluttered nervously.“It was a little funny at first,” Nancy admitted, her tone a mix of teasing and apologetic, “you were moaning my name and I thought it’d be kinda funny if Mike accidentally overheard you having a sex dream about his sister—”Steve couldn’t control the guffaw that escaped him. “But then you said Jonathan’s name. Right after mine. All in the same breath.”

it’s a risk, it’s a gamble by nondz (pinkjook)

TW/TAGS: NSFW

Summary: “I think we should pretend to date,” Robin says. "What?" Steve answers.

still turning out by scoutshonor

TW/TAGS: Homophobic language

Summary: Steve knows senior year's supposed to be tough, but seriously?Not only does his dad want him to take over his business, but he lands himself into a fight with his best friend leaving him friendless and booted out of his inner-circle, gets stuck watching a bunch of kids after school because of a missing credit, has to repeat eleventh grade history, and, oh yeah. He has the minor issue of having no idea what he actually wants to do with his life.But it's not all that bad: not the kids he has to watch, and certainly not Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, two friends from his history class. Friends. Just friends. Yeah, he and you both know that's bullshit.Steve's got a lot of figuring out to do.(or: HSAU Stoncy with Steve as a senior, doing his best)

(Following Stoncy fics are by @pterawaters​) 

Now and For Always 

TW/TAGS: Explicit, Sex where one party is drunk and the other isn't

Summary: Between graduating from college, starting new careers, and planning a wedding, the summer of 1990 is a busy time for Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan. When a war starts in the middle east, Jonathan gets called away just three weeks before the wedding. He’s determined to make it back in time, no matter what it takes.

It's not like people live like this

TW/TAGS: Car Accidents, Period-Typical Homophobia, NSFW

Summary: Concerned that Steve's less-than-stellar grades might have been making them look bad, his parents hired him a tutor, Jonathan Byers, they were sure he wouldn't find as distracting as his last one. Sure, Jonathan had good grades in school, but he really wished he didn't have to take the extra work to help his mother put food on the table. After all, everyone knew Steve Harrington was a jerk. Right? It turned out, not so much. After an impromptu study-session-turned-party and a game of spin the bottle, Steve and Jonathan both found themselves dating Nancy Wheeler. And that wasn't even the strangest thing that happened to any of them that week.

Mr. Sandman (series) 

TW/TAGS: Canon-typical violence, Explicit scenes

The Man from U.N.C.L.E.: 

Simmer On Low by canardroublard

Pairing: Illya/Napoleon/Gaby

TW/TAGS: semi-implied consensual voyeurism, whump

Summary: Scenes from five kitchens.

The Untamed/CQL/MDZS: 

inclusions by keiyashi 

Pairing: Sòng Lán | Sòng Zǐchēn/Xiǎo Xīngchén/Xuē Yáng | Xuē Chéngměi

TW/TAGS: NSFW

Summary: “I guess I feel left out. And I’m asking you to show me how not to?”“Show you?” Xue Yang laughs, easing the tension the only way he knows how. “Daozhang, if you aren’t careful, I might think you’re implying something quite forward.”Xingchen blinks at him. “Xue Yang, I feel like you’re trying to embarrass me, but that is what I was implying.”

melting the glacier by keiyashi 

Pairing: Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo/Niè Míngjué

Summary: Wanting to be with Nie Mingjue is something Lan Xichen accepted about himself long ago. He wants only happiness for his friend, no matter what form it takes. Even if that form is quite lovely and possesses an enchanting mouth.

Teen Wolf: 

Feels Better Biting Down by callunavulgari, hiza-chan (callunavulgari)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale/Lydia Martin

TW/TAGS: Blood

That I See You by FiccinDylan

Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Jordan Parris

TW/TAGS: NSFW, abo, m-preg (non graphic), werewolves, triads are normal

Summary: Deputy Jordan Parrish and Chef Derek Hale are in the prime of their lives and ready to take the next step in their relationship by courting an omega. Everything seems to be progressing smoothly until the new omega (aka Stiles Stilinski, the sheriff’s son) surfaces some unresolved tension from Jordan’s past. Jordan originally had the benefit of amnesia to block out his harried background, but now with his amnesia behind him, will he be able to resolve his past before he ruins his future?

White Collar: 

Always Starts the Same, with a Boy and a Girl by lightgetsin

Pairing: Neal Caffrey/Peter Burke/Elizabeth Burke

Tags: AU 

Summary: Summer, 1998. Neal Caffrey robs the gallery where Elizabeth O'Dell is working late, and comes away with a lot more than art. Agent Burke has no idea what's about to hit him.

[iron-mum]

Hello hi how are you????!!!! I wish you would write a fic where Tony is jealous of the other avengers because Peter starts to spend some time with them instead of him. But like Tony's being all abandoned dad and trying to come up with solutions while Peter being all oblivious to all and being all sweet and polite boi? And maybe the other avengers are like secretly teasing Tony? Maybe? I dont know I think I'm just a sucker for some cute domestic hurt-comfort kinda thing. But like if you dont like it just ignore meeee ♡♡♡

Okay so firstly, thank you so much for the request. I’m really well thank you, I hope you’re doing okay! 💕 In true Kat form, me trying to drabble isn’t doing great - I did say I need the practice 😂 I didn’t want to leave you waiting too long so here’s a part 1 of Tony being jealous of Scott and Stephen. I already have a bunch of ideas for Bruce, Thor, Nat and Clint (I stopped there because I am also participating in two events and couldn’t allow too much side tracking). Ramblings aside, I can’t wait to write the others and perhaps try and get the word count down a little too. Thanks again ❤️

****

The music in Tony’s car came to a jarring halt for just a single ring of a phone call before cutting off and resuming. The genius raised a single brow, the action catching him by surprise.

"Fri?" he addressed as he slowed his speed ever so slightly, wondering if someone close to him really had the audacity to prank call him. It wouldn’t be Peter because he had a heart of pure gold. Rhodey had definitely outgrown the kinds of mediocre pranks that involved hanging up on someone. Bet it was fucking Thor as he’s just getting the hang of ‘Midgardian antics.’ No one could blame the God of Thunder for finding humour in the simplicity of hanging up on someone or whoopee cushions under sofa cushions when he’d been contending with a shapeshifting brother who regularly stabbed him whilst disguised as his favourite animal.

Before the AI could reply, an alert popped up on his dashboard that had his heart skip a beat. Doing his best not to slam on the brakes he quickly pulled over—lucky he was in a place to do so—to take a proper look at the vitals in front of him. Peter’s vitals. 

"Fri, what’s happening?" Tony’s voice was dangerously quiet as he watched the elevated heart rate climb, skin prickling with anxiety and thoughts dangerously racing.

“Peter doesn’t appear to be wearing the mask so I am unable to make contact. The last footage I’ve got is of him approaching an address from the back garden that has been labelled, The Nest.”

“Send a suit,” Tony demanded on autopilot. When it came to Peter, the codename ‘Nest’ could mean anything and there was no way he was taking any risks when he wasn’t in the area. A stakeout of some kind, maybe? He had left copious voicemails and texts about watching some gang. It wasn’t an outlandish thought that the teen would get himself knee deep in horseshit before asking anyone for help despite the epic number of pep talks and reasoning Tony had attempted. 

“Suit has been deployed, boss” the trusty AI informed. Tony placed a pair of trademark Stark glasses on and watched from the eyes of the armour as it made it’s impending approach. 

“Try and call his mobile. Are there any known Avengers in the area of his location? Any suspicious activity in that area on police comms?” Tony was gathering data. Preparing a plan. It’s what he did. The genius needed to ignore his pounding heart and the tightness in his chest and focus as the suit started its descent towards what looked like a reasonably pleasant townhouse on the outskirts of New York.

“What in the ever-loving Hogwarts fuc-” he whispered to himself when the terror that had been coursing through his veins wavered.

Jimmy Woo was nursing an injured ankle, his foot elevated as he lay sprawled across a sofa. Perched on the edge of the sofa was Wong, the pair cheering on something not quite within view until the armour shifted position slightly and then...

From an apparent crouched down position, Peter’s best friend, Ned hopped into view. His arms were in the air, hands waving dramatically. The familiar blue and red Stark suit popped up after a couple of seconds, Peter following Ned’s lead with flapping arms as his curls bounced at the movement. Scott Lang was next to jump up in a similar fashion, before a final competitor arose. Dumbledore himself, Stephen Strange, far taller than the others and moving just as ungracefully. They all started to hop on one leg, arms still up in the air, balance all over the place and all doing terribly at stifling their laughter.

“Let’s do the Time Warp againnnn,” Peter and Scott sang horrifically out of tune. 

“It’s just a jump to the left!” Ned called out as they all shimmied to the left and started to wiggle, Scott gleaming at the fact he was joint first with Peter on the starboard so far.

“And then a step to the righhhttttt,” Ned continued, an exaggerated long tone that was up far too many octaves for the kid to handle. Then the small group were all crouched down again and out of view.

Tony should’ve sent the suit back there and then, but something hit him hard at how happy Peter looked. He was buzzing with excitement and thriving in the company. As the song progressed the teen was attempted an uncoordinated ballroom dance with Scott, the pair pulling silly faces which would’ve been hilarious to Tony if he’d been there—and not feeling terribly jealous. 

The scene was so domestic. So homely. And, nothing like the environment he had ever provided for Peter. Ned hadn’t been to visit the Tower yet. Hell, dancing had never even been brought up, or video games for that matter. Not that Tony knew how to play video games but he’d damn well learn quickly if Peter would enjoy that. It was either workshop suit upgrades or the occasional movie and takeout night. 

“Dude, you smashed it kiddo!” Scott called out, grabbing a hold of Peter and barely managing to lift him up in the air. The use of the nickname had absolutely snapped Tony back into reality as he’d clearly zoned out and not even been aware of the song finishing.

“You weren’t too bad yourself, old man,” Peter jested as he stepped away to high five his best friend. They have nicknames for each other too? Stephen was next in line, receiving an awkward side hug for his efforts. Almost like the hug in the car that definitely hadn’t been a hug, but definitely was. 

“Call the suit off, Fri. He’s… All good.” Tony muttered in dejection, pulling the glasses off and tossing them into the glovebox. With a shake of his head in consternation, he checked his mirrors before pulling back out onto the road and continuing the drive home. 

The genius had this gut-feeling that he was the boring parent within the Avengers family. Not that he’d ever admitted to Peter he unconditionally loved him and that he could pretty much do no wrong despite the grey hairs and near heart attacks he induced regularly. And not that the Avengers had ever called themselves a family—particularly the likes of Stephen Strange. But the feeling was there. Deep in the pit of his stomach and he needed to change that. With a deep exhale, he started to formulate a plan of attack.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Chapter 13 - Alone Again

Word Count: 15,835

TW:  mentions of child r*pe, mentions of p*dophilia, mentions of self-harm, mentions of trauma, unconsensual biting, unprotected sex, mentions of mental breakdown.

A/N: Hey guys! I felt very bad for updating so slowly, so here it is early! Happy Valentine’s! Special thanks to those who has sent me fanart and kofis!! I appreciate them all, honestly, it’s really amazing. 

Masterlist

Kofi

The ding of his phone woke Jason up from sleep. Even during the grogginess of slowly regaining consciousness, Jason knew who it was.

He blinked his eyes a few times to get used to waking up, and cleared his dry throat. He laid there in bed for a few moments, staring at the tin roof of the safe house he was so proud of. He wondered whether the text would be business or pleasure.

He liked it when you were there with him at night.

But you were too fucking stubborn, and was still hesitating to continue seeing him. It had been a month since the first time you joined him, and since then you went out with him a couple more times, only to investigate the elite pedophile ring that plagued Jason’s mind ever since he found out that it existed, and that Bruce had kept it from him.

Your dilemma meant that you weren’t with him all the time and got upset every time he killed someone.

Jason wasn’t a patient person, but the two of you still texted and called. Discussions, or banter. It was as if you were his friend.

As if everything wasn’t as fucked up as it was.

And however hard he tried to separate his feelings from his goals, to keep you at a distance, to wall himself off, he had obviously failed.

Because now he was smiling to himself at the thought of waking up to your texts.

He had freaked out at first, confused as to why he had started to hate you less and less over time, but now he realised that it didn’t matter how he felt anymore.

As long as he could snatch you away from Bruce.

The fact that you made him feel like he wasn’t alone anymore was only a bonus.

***

To say that it was troublesome to have Dick around would be an understatement.

He had originally mentioned that he was only going to stay for a week, but one week became two, and a month later, he. Was. Still. Fucking. Here.

The fact that you were living under the same roof as Batman meant that you were almost constantly on your feet, but now Nightwing was added to the equation, it felt suffocating.

At least Bruce didn’t like to poke into your personal life as much. Dick Grayson on the other hand, loved to play the doting older brother. You weren’t fooled, though. You knew he was still suspicious of you, and was using his caring nature to his advantage, touching the line between concern and straight up paranoia.

You sighed out loud.

Michelle Myers turned her head to glare at you. You stuck up your middle finger to her, earning an audible gasp.

Shit, you hadn’t meant to do that. You forgot where you were for a second.

School was one of the ways to escape the prying and ever analytical eyes of your older brother, and a way to run from the feelings of growing distance you felt between you and your family.

It was all Jason’s fault.

You had let him get into your head ever since he told you that Bruce had kept a disgustingly huge and important piece of information regarding Gotham’s elite society- the society that you were a part of.

You felt as though there was an invisible line that separated you and Bruce now.

It wasn’t a nice feeling.

“What the hell was that?” Michelle came up to your desk as you were packing to leave.

“I’m sorry?” you feigned innocence.

“You bitch!” she hissed, “You know what you did!”

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Rob interjected.

“I have no idea?” you lied.

“Michelle?” Rob turned to her.

“She- she- she showed me the middle finger!” Michelle fumed.

“What?” Robert asked, “No way. That’s not something she would do. Would you?”

He turned to you.

You wondered if his parents were part of this human trafficking ring. You wondered if Michelle’s parents were.

“Of course not!” you defended yourself, “That would be unbecoming of me!”

“Michelle, it’s not nice to make up stories,” Rob rolled his eyes.

Rob’s father was the CEO of Gotham’s number one cybersecurity company, his mother inherited generations worth of wealth. Her lineage meant that she had an iron grip on Gotham and was often Bruce’s rival when it came to influence. If she were a man and didn’t take her husband’s surname, Bruce would probably have lost to her on countless occasions. The possibility of one or both of them secretly running an organized crime was high.

“I’m not!” Michelle snapped, “I’m telling the truth.”

Michelle’s mother was Gotham’s famous socialite in the 80s, her father a nobleman from England. Both very rich, but Mrs. Myers was new rich, and Mr. Myers wasn’t born and raised in Gotham. The chances were there, but probably not as high.

“Even if you were, and she did show you the middle finger, what’s the big deal? Stop being so uptight, Michelle,” Rob scolded her.

Michelle looked like she was about to pop a vein in her temple.

“Thanks Rob,” you said, “But really, it’s okay. I think Michelle might have made an honest mistake, that’s all. I’m sorry too, Michelle. Maybe I was brushing my hair aside and might have accidentally made a vulgar gesture.”

“There,” Rob smiled warmly at you, “Just a mistake. You going back now?”

“Yes, I think Alfred should be here already,” you nodded, “I’ll see you guys next week?”

“Good luck studying!” Rob wished you, “Though mocks would probably be a breeze for you.”

“I doubt it, but thank you Rob,” you made your way to leave. You turned your head to Michelle and gave her a knowing wink you knew would make her lose her mind, and walked away.

“Dick?” you called out to your older brother, who was attracting a lot of attention on the sidewalk. He had parallel parked his car on the side, and was leaning against it with his sunglasses on. He waved at you once he saw you approach him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Picking you up,” he shrugged.

“Where’s Alfred?”

“Home,” he simply said.

“And why did you come to pick me up?”

“Because why not?” he grinned, opening the passenger door for you to enter.

You narrowed your eyes at him and entered the car.

Dick had always made you feel comfortable, and you naturally felt at ease when you were with him, but lately, it was different.

You felt stiff, alert, and on guard when Dick was around because it felt like he was just waiting silently for you to fuck up, to let something slip. You hated it.

You hated how your family felt so far away from you because you had betrayed them.

“Hey, Dick?” you asked after five minutes of unusual silence.

“What’s up?”

“What does Bruce do when he’s on patrol alone?” you brought up.

Did Dick know about this elite pedophile ring? Was Dick keeping secrets from you as well?

“He patrols, I guess?” Dick answered.

“No, I meant during the nights when he tells me that he doesn’t need me around,” you explained, “What does he do then?”

You saw Dick frown.

“I don’t know,” he stated.

“Did he ever do that to you? Tell you he doesn’t need you and go off alone?” you probed.

“All the time,” he sighed.

“And you never found out what he was doing?”

“I- well- look, what’s this about?” Dick turned the question back at you, “Did something happen? Did you find something?”

“What am I supposed to find?” you interrogated.

“I don’t know!” he answered exasperatedly, “Sure, I wondered a lot back then, but that’s- that’s just how he is! He keeps secrets and leaves us out of a lot of things. Like Jason being alive for fuck’s sake. If he can keep something like that a secret for so long, God knows what he’s up to when he’s alone.”

“Didn’t you ever stop to question it?” you argued.

“Didn’t you?” Dick retaliated, “All these years as Robin, why are you only bringing this up now?”

You fell silent.

“Did something happen?” he repeated again.

“Nothing happened,” you insisted, looking at the cars zooming by outside the passenger window.

Silence again. And then-

“Jason used to question it all the time,” Dick sighed, calming down. “Even followed Bruce out. That was hilarious. Imaging trying to tail Batman.”

“He asked the right questions, then,” you grumbled.

“He did,” Dick admitted, “Didn’t get him anywhere, though.”

“Except six feet under,” you muttered bitterly.

Dick never replied to that.

***

“We still don’t know her identity, she pops in and out seemingly randomly, has mediocre tech, mediocre skills… I don’t know, Bruce. What kind of purpose does Jason have for her?” Dick stated.

You tried not to clench your jaw upon hearing that.

The three of you were in the Cave, discussing your next step for tracking Red Hood down. Bruce had suggested going after V instead and hoped that she would lead you to him. You were treading dangerous waters, and remained silent most of the time.

“The fact that she has still remained elusive shows some form of skill,” Bruce argued.

It was hard not to defend your alter-alter-ego. But, you were relieved. You had tried your best to ensure they wouldn’t suspect you, even changing your fighting style to something you weren’t too familiar with.

“Still doesn’t explain why she’s with him,” Dick shrugged, “Nothing on the traffic cams?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You had also made sure to avoid all cameras, even parking and changing blocks away before meeting with Jason. Jason, on the other hand, drove the same fucking car, or the same fucking bike, though he frequently changed plate numbers.

Still, this was Batman and Nightwing you were talking about.

“Only one thing,” Batman replied, before pulling up a security camera footage.

Fuck.

“This was taken along Jackson Avenue in Old Gotham,” Bruce continued and played the footage.

It showed a very low quality pixelated video of you wearing a black hoodie and a black cap covering your head. You had a surgical mask on to blend in better with the crowd instead of a black mask that would automatically made you suspicious. Your face was unidentifiable.

You walked into an alleyway and never came back out.

“How are you sure this is her?” Dick asked, “She wasn’t seen in Old Gotham.”

“Height and body type are a match,” Bruce justified, “That backpack could be carrying her weapons and clothes.”

You hid that backpack in an unused dumbwaiter of a guestroom all the way on the other wing of the manor that Alfred did not bother to dust.

“Or it could be carrying textbooks,” Dick scoffed.

“There is also this-”

Bruce pulled up another traffic footage. It was of you in the same clothes, with Jason next to you on a nearly empty sidewalk with shops already closed. Jason was also wearing a hoodie that covered his head, and the camera was far away. The two of you were walking away from the camera.

“This was three hours later on Schnappe Avenue, three blocks away from Caprice, where they were last seen together a week ago.”

You had followed Jason to Caprice, a bar that hosted many criminals, and was owned by the Italian mob. Red Who was simply there to take his profits and ask a few questions regarding their connections to certain politicians in Gotham.

Rendezvous with Jason was complicated, as you both had to protect your identities. You would leave the manor two hours early, park somewhere very far away, then walk or take a taxi to a location maybe 3 kilometres away from where you would meet Jason, duck into a dark alley to change into your gear, and then grappled to where Jason parked. From there, the two of you would grapple to your location. Once you were done, you would go to his car where you stashed your bag. You would then reverse your steps and go home.

That night however, Jason, the fucking dickhead, got hungry and insisted that you followed him to a diner, which was why the both of you were in casual clothes walking together in the streets. Good thing that by fucking sheer luck, no security cameras picked you up at the restaurant.

“There were no cameras to follow them after that,” Bruce grit, “They must have strategically chosen the route.”

No, Jason was just hungry.

Dick remained silent, so you turned to look at him. You frowned at his expression. Dick’s eyes were glassy and soft.

“Is- is that really him?” he whispered.

“High possibility. It’s too coincidental to dismiss.”

“Wow,” Dick breathed, “He looks- he looks different.”

Ah, it was Dick’s first time seeing new Jason without his helmet on.

“Yes,” Bruce nodded stiffly.

“How different?” you spoke up for the first time.

You were curious.

“Well, he’s much bigger,” Dick chuckled, “And taller. Good for him. He always complained about his height. Used to bet with me that he’d grow taller. Can’t see his face, though. He used to whine about how I was stealing all the girls too. Pretty sure he had a crush on Barbara.”

Dick gave a sad smile, and you saw Bruce had turned to face away.

“Anyway,” Dick cleared his throat, “How do you suggest we go about this V girl?”

“Uh,” you started, “Why not interrogate the guy they were meeting?”

Fat chance Elio Bianchi would spill anything with what Red Hood threatened him with.

“Already did last week,” Bruce answered.

You didn’t patrol last week. Bruce suddenly extended your “grounding”, but you suspected that he wanted to keep you away from Jason.

“And?”

“Refuses to speak. Red Hood must have something on him.”

Yes, the age, location, and photos of all three of his daughters.

“So what next?” you wondered.

“We wait for his next move,” Bruce sighed, “He doesn’t seem to be doing anything too rash lately since making Elena Ciobanu shoot Victor Ibenescu. He is waiting for something.”

“Or maybe he’s finally got control?” you suggested, “Over everyone? I mean- the reason why he did all those violent things were all gang-related, wasn’t it? Maybe now he’s made his point, so everyone is following his rules?”

“Maybe,” Bruce hummed, “But this wasn’t about taking control. Now we know who he is and what his motives are.”

“He did kidnap you,” Dick added, “It’s more likely that he’s planning to do something like that again.”

“Which is why,” Bruce continued, “I don’t think you should be out with us for now.”

“Oh, come on, Bruce,” you complained, “You already grounded me for an extra week!”

“It’s not about punishment. It’s about keeping you safe.”

“I wasn’t even in uniform the last time he kidnapped me!” you debated, “I’m the safest with you.”

“In the event that we do find him, I would need to talk to him,” Bruce insisted, “Having you there might trigger something in him. It’s best if you stayed away.”

“Dick!” you turned to your older brother for help.

“Sorry kid, but I’m with him on this one,” he gave you an apologetic look.

“He could kidnap me in the middle of the day!” you ranted, “He could blow up the school, the train, hell, even the library again!”

Both Dick and Bruce frowned.

“Again?” Dick repeated.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Yeah, I already lost one library, he could very well just find out where I am and blow it up or something,” you covered.

Bruce remained silent, just looking at you with intensity. You tried your absolute best not to recoil, not to give away that your heart was beating so violently against your chest that you could hear it in your ears.

“How important is your exam?” Bruce spoke.

“It’s my mocks, Bruce,” you grumbled, “Scholarships are waiting for mocks results. I’m not letting a delusional psycho with daddy issues get in the way of my future, no matter who he is.”

You intentionally aimed those words at the both of them. Jason was Bruce’s son, and Dick’s brother, and you wanted them to feel it.

“Then you’re only to go to and from school,” Bruce directed, “No staying back, either, and Alfred will wait outside the whole time.”

“Seriously?” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “Fine! Fine. I just- I just wanted to test myself. Whatever.”

“Test yourself?” Dick asked.

You looked at Dick straight in the eye and said, “I wanted to see if I could face him after he kidnapped and sexually assaulted me.”

With that, you stormed off after manipulating the people closest to you to make sure you throw them off of any suspicions of you.

You locked yourself in your room and collapsed on the bed with a frustrated huff. You took out your phone to send Jason a text.

You: What are you doing tonight?

Five minutes later, your phone dinged.

Sexy Hunk From Library: Usual. You coming? You: You have any leads? Sexy Hunk From Library: Possibly.

You stared at your phone, assessing the risks if you were to go out with him that night. Then, your phone dinged again.

Sexy Hunk From Library: Kill time with me?

The corners of your lips twitched upwards.

You: Miss me that much?

You saw that he was typing, then stopped, then typed again. Until finally-

Sexy Hunk From Library: Are you coming or not?

It was funny how you could still chuckle to yourself despite how fucked you were. You were fucked because you betrayed your family, you were fucked because your family was suspicious of you, and you were fucked because for the past couple weeks of occasionally seeing and texting him, you realised that you had begun to like him more and more.

The dangerous and violent parts of him still made you wary, but despite all that, you couldn’t help but want to be by his side. It confused the hell out of you, because sometimes he didn’t act like how you would expect him to act at all.

Sometimes he was actually nice.

For instance, he had treated you to that burger when he insisted that you went with him to the diner.

Or the time when he argued with you over pineapple on pizza, as if you were friends who didn’t hate each other.

And even when you almost got punched in the face by a massive brute who had been dealing to kids. The punch never landed because Red Hood stopped him, beat him half to death, and then shot him in the kneecaps, before turning to you and asking if you were okay.

You thought that was sort of nice of him.

Fuck, you wanted to see him.

You texted him back.

You: Time and location?

***

Jason waited impatiently for you to arrive.

He was tapping his fingers rapidly against the steering wheel. Somehow he felt like he was going to be sick.

Despite the gentle drizzle that fell against the glass windows and the cold wind blowing outside, Jason felt hot and stuffy.

He looked at his reflection in the rear view mirror, coming into contact with his tired, sunken, blue eyes. He tried to fix his hair, combing it to the side with his fingers then groaning before ruffling it up again.

Fuck, what was he doing?

He spent the next minute trying and failing to fix his hair, that he didn’t notice you approached the vehicle until your rapped your knuckles against the window. He jumped at the sudden sound, earning a raised eyebrow from you. He unlocked the door and you climbed inside.

“You’re late,” he grumbled, aware of his hoarse voice. It was the first time he had spoken to anyone in two days.

“Only by five minutes,” you pouted.

“Late is late,” he snapped.

“You’re okay with killing people, but will bitch if I’m slightly late?” you scoffed.

“Just be on time next time,” he grit.

“Fine, I’m sorry I’m late,” you rolled your eyes. “Now can we get to it?”

Jason gave you a glare, his jaw clenching in frustration. He took a few moments to calm down.

“You know Maria and Joseph Powers?”

“Of the Powers Group?” you frowned, “Powers Hotel? Sure, I know them.”

“I have reason to believe that they’re one of the people involved in this child trafficking business,” Jason revealed.

“W-what?” you gasped, “Do you have evidence?”

“Some,” Jason replied, “They’ve been investigated before. I guess Batman played a part in that, but everything seems to have been dropped. Document trails, eye witness statements, physical evidence- all disappeared.”

He saw that you were struggling to keep up, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, “Get a hold of yourself.”

“Bruce knew?” you whispered.

“What doesn’t he know?” Jason scoffed.

“I sat on the same fucking table as them last Christmas ball,” you growled, “I went to their kid’s fifth birthday party. Bruce shook hands and smiled at them and then invited them over for drinks.”

Jason resisted a smirk. He finally got you to understand. Your arms were crossed, and your face in a scowl, obviously pissed.

Bruce probably did all of that to keep them close so he could keep an eye on them, maybe even find some more details. But Jason wasn’t going to tell you that.

You still had a lot to learn, but Jason was willing to be the one to teach you.

“Where will he be tonight?” he asked.

“I… I’m not too sure,” you said quietly.

Jason raised an eyebrow at you.

“What’s this? He didn’t tell his beloved Robin his plans? Again?”

You remained silent, looking straight ahead.

“I was wondering about that,” he continued, “Friday night and you’re here with me instead. Something happened?”

This time, Jason waited patiently for you to respond, enjoying the way you were obviously uncomfortable with his interrogation.

“He…” you started slowly, “He won’t let me out with him.”

“You got into trouble again?” he smirked.

“No, it’s because of you,” you shot him a sharp glare.

If only looks could kill.

“He knows you have it out for me, so for my safety,” you spat, “He won’t let me out.”

Jason blinked at you once, twice, then let out a booming laugh.

“Oh, man. Oh, sweetheart,” he pretended to wipe away tears, “Look at you, all angry at me.”

He reached across towards you and booped you on the nose. You swatted his hand away violently.

Jason loved teasing you. It made his heart all warm.

You were looking away again, and had the mask covering half your face, but even in the dark alley, he could make out your long lashes, clumped together because of the rain, and the way your shiny hair framed your face, also damp.

Your smell was intoxicating, filling his car with a pleasant scent of vanilla and strawberries. The longer Jason spent time with you, the more he felt himself getting pulled deeper and deeper in-

“He’s investigating me,” you interrupted his trance. “Well, not me specifically, but V. He’s got footage of us walking to that stupid diner-”

You paused to shoot daggers at him.

“-good thing I kept the hoodie and mask on, and thank the fucking stars that there were no cameras after that leading to to the diner. We can’t be reckless like that again, Jason.”

Jason rolled his eyes at your lecture

“So now what? You gonna kill the Powers’? How did you find out about them anyway?” you asked.

“Through the Ibenescu problem,” he explained, “Whenever they trafficked girls, I’ve always found a few kids. Always not more than ten at a time. Didn’t add up. All this while I’ve made sure there were no kids involved, be it local or foreign. And after going to each and every single fucking brothel and threatening every single pimp in Gotham-”

Jaon let out a tired sigh at the memory of going all over Gotham to turn over every rock, paying and threatening people for information. He allowed sex work as long as they kept to his standards, and as long as they weren’t trafficked. He made sure all the girls were well taken care of, and he made it very clear as to what would happen to the pimps if they weren’t.

The girls all loved him.

“- no sign of kids. Which meant that Gotham was being used as a proxy and they were being transported outside of Gotham, or there were other powers at play. So I dug in deeper. Hacked into GCPD records, looked at the political scandals and allegations that got dropped and was never brought to court. The Powers and some others came up a few times, but not too heavy. Tax evasion and stuff like that. Until I hacked into the FBI.”

“The FBI?” you gasped.

He smirked to himself. You were paying careful attention. It made him feel like he was some sort of mentor.

“It’s really not that difficult when you know people,” he scoffed, “Anyway, the Powers’ were originally under investigation for money laundering because the Powers’ Group Executive Accountant, who mysteriously died of a suicide, reported large sums of money that didn’t belong there. Then they got an external auditor, who is also deceased, reported inconsistencies with signatures and accounts.”

Jason reached to the back seats of his car and passed you a thick file that contained the FBI investigation.

“After that, they checked emails. Nothing. Then they wiretapped them, and recorded conversations regarding child sex trafficking from all over the world, for other politicians and rich pigs in this goddamned country- whose names are redacted in the files. However, they didn’t keep the audio evidence. Everything’s been terminated.”

“Wait, this can’t be right,” you frowned, flipping through the pages. “This case is almost twenty years old and… dropped? In 2012!”

“Exactly,” Jason grit.

“How long have you been investigating this?”

“Over the last two months.”

“So you already knew the Powers’ were involved,” you looked at him in suspicion, “Why haven’t you killed them yet?”

Ah, you caught on quick. Not bad.

“Because of tonight, sweetheart,” he answered, “I wiretapped them myself. There’s a shipment tonight, and one of the Powers’ need to confirm it half an hour before docking, or else they won’t dock, and it’ll be a bitch to track down again.”

“Then this is great,” your eyes widen, “We catch them red handed at the docks, take photos, spread them online, make it go viral. They won’t be able to cover it up when there’s a public outcry.”

Jason started chuckling.

“What?” you demanded.

“Look through the files. Do you see any pictures? Videos?”

You frowned.

“Do you really think they would be stupid enough to physically be there, where the authorities can, and I quote, catch them red handed?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Even if they were there, pictures can be easily faked these days. Hell, even videos. Audios, easiest of the two. They would just claim that someone was slandering them, then move on. If the feds don’t want to charge them, do you really think the cops could? And what happens if they were brought to court anyway? They can easily pay off judges and jurors.”

Jason liked this. Educating you.

Just face it, baby girl,” he added, “The system is fucked. Batman’s been trying for over a decade, and the Powers’ are still having Christmas balls.”

You let out a sad sigh.

“Let’s just get to the docks, then.”

Jason put on his mask and helmet, and drove away.

***

You were sick and tired of Dixon Docks, but criminals just couldn’t stop choosing that location for smuggling. There was also Port Adams, but the port was located near Blackgate Isle, so the marine security was tighter.

Any normal city, a place like Dixon Docks would have much tighter security after countless cases of illegal smuggling, but this was Gotham.

The security that GCPD put out on patrol with what little resources they could spare were easily bribed. The dock security company themselves were probably owned and bought over by a crime lord, not unlike the one beside you right now.

“They’re here,” Jason pointed out. The both of you were on the rooftop of a warehouse on the docks.

You squinted in the distance and saw a ship coming nearer. You missed Batman’s tech whenever you went out with Jason. Your lack of state of the art domino mask made it harder to see faraway objects and in the dark.

The docks were quiet, except for the sound of the water currents and sea breeze, and the twenty or so hired guns grumbling about the weather. You theorized that this operation was usually similar in the past, where it went smoothly without much obstacles, judging from the lack of hired security. Jason also mentioned that the kids were usually brought in along with older trafficked victims from other operations to help cover up, but since his harsh crackdown on human trafficking, they were forced to operate alone.

You waited until the industrial ship dock amongst the other unoccupied ships, and then heard some voices yelling in the distance. From the ship came out 4 girls and 3 boys in tattered clothes, malnourished and with frightful eyes. Their ages ranged from about 12-15 years old.

Accompanying them were three armed men, shoving the children to walk faster. Your blood started boiling at the sight.

“This should be easy,”Jason stretched, getting ready to make a move.

“We shouldn’t underestimate them,” you advised, “We should think of a strategy to-”

Jason leapt from the age of the rooftop without warning.

“Wait! Red Hood! Fuck!” you whispered angrily, and followed suit.

Red Hood ran ahead of you with inhuman speed towards the children, guns out and firing at the men.

You heard the children scream, the men shouting, and more guns firing.

It all happened so fast, that by the time you reached there, Red Hood was standing tall and proud over more than a dozen dead bodies.

“What the fuck?!” you shoved Red Hood as hard as you could. He didn’t budge. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“What?”

“You opened fire when there are children right in the middle of everything!” you yelled.

“I’ve got an excellent aim and I caught them off guard,” he defended, “They couldn’t even respond on time.”

“The kids could have caught a stray bullet, you fucking dickhead!” you shoved him again.

This time, he growled at you and gripped your wrists tight, pulling you harshly to him.

“If you do that again, I’ll make sure you regret it,” he threatened you with a low voice that sounded even more hostile through the voice scrambler.

You wanted to say more, but then you heard a cry from one of the children. You wrenched your hand away from his grip and walked towards them.

They were kneeling on the ground, gripping each other tight by the clothes and arms. They were Asian. You guessed maybe South or South East.

“Hey,” you gently called out, slowly kneeling to their level. They recoiled at your approach.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” you said, putting your arms up in surrender to convince them. “See? No guns.”

Their expressions didn’t change. You were just another threat to them.

“Don’t any of you speak English?” Red Hood grunted.

You glared at him.

“What? It’d help,” he shrugged.

“Even if they did, do you really think they’d speak to you?” you snapped.

You turned to them again, and despite the risk, pulled down your mask and hoped that there weren’t any cameras nearby.

“Hey, we’re here to help okay?” you maintained a slow, low voice.

Two girls then looked at each other, and one of them spoke up.

“I- I can speak English,” she said in a shaky voice.

“That’s great,” you smiled sweetly, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Magdeline,” she whispered.

“Nice to meet you, Magdeline. I’m V,” you pointed at Jason, “And that grumpy tomato head there is Red Hood.”

You saw Magdeline and two others share a smile. They must have understood you.

“We’re not going to hurt you, okay? We just want to help.”

“Are you going to take us home?” another girl squeaked.

“No,” you winced, “But, we’re going to take you to the police, and they will help, okay?”

They nodded, wiping tears from their eyes.

“So what we’re going to do is that we’re going to call-”

You stopped mid sentence.

Suddenly, you felt a chill down your spine, as if someone dropped an ice cube down your shirt. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you hurriedly put on your mask again.

“What’s wrong?” Red Hood sensed. You stood up straight, your heart beating fast.

“We need to go,” you told him, hearing the blood rush to your ears, your eyes darting quick to every shadow, to detect any movements from the darkness.

“What?”

“He’s here,” you whispered.

Red Hood looked at you for a moment, and then-

“Fuck. Come on.”

“Please don’t leave us,” Magdeline fisted your clothes, “Please.”

She looked like she was going to cry again.

“It’s okay,” you told her, “Someone’s here to help you.”

“No! Please! I want you!” she wailed.

“Shh,” you tried to calm her down.

“V, we don’t have time,” Red Hood growled.

“He’s a hero,” you ignored him, “He may look big and scary at first, but he’s a hero, okay? I promise.”

She continued to wail. You forced her off you and stepped back.

At the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow in the sky, and felt your heart drop to your stomach.

So this is what it felt like to be hunted by Batman.

“Come on,” you told Red Hood, and the two of you ran in the direction of Jason’s car, swerving between shipment containers for more cover.

Then, in the distance, you heard a loud familiar boom.

“JASON!”

The man in question who was running ahead of you started chuckling, then raided two middle fingers up in the air.

You looked behind you, but Batman was nowhere to be seen. Not in the sky, not on the roofs, not on the shipment containers, not even in the shadows.

Perhaps he saw the children and stopped-

You ran into Red Hood’s hard back. He had come to a sudden stop.

Fuck.

You peeked from behind him, and was relieved when you only saw Nightwing standing about ten feet away from you.

“Jason,” he called out, “Hey, buddy.”

“Quit your Golden Boy act, Grayson,” Red Hood snarled, “You’re almost as guilty as he is.”

He took out a handgun and aimed it at Nightwing.

“Come on, Jay,” Nightwing tried, “You’re not gonna shoot me.”

“You wanna bet?” he growled and cocked it.

You remained behind Jason for cover in fear of being recognized. Half your face was covered and you were wearing contact lenses that hid your true eye color, but you couldn’t be too careful.

“Who’s your friend, Jason?” you felt Dick’s eyes on you, “We can helo her too.”

Jason responded with a dark chuckle.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s your name?” Nightwing stepped closer in your direction.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Jason fumed.

Dick stopped in his tracks and raised his arms back up in surrender.

“Okay,” he nodded slowly, “It’s fine. Let’s just talk.”

***

Jason felt a punch in his gut when he saw his older brother appear in front of him.

Grayson had aged slightly, his hair longer, face more defined. It was guilt that Jason was feeling. Grayson had always been there for him. Training him, teaching him, giving him advise on girls and on being a teen.

Yet, even at that time, he had felt immense anger towards him, jealous that he was constantly in Grayson’s shadow no matter how hard he tried to be his own man.

And now? Grayson didn’t do jackshit to Joker either, the person who took the life of his supposed younger brother whom he said he always loved and cared for. No, Grayson was the same as everyone else.

Once Jason was out of the picture, they all gladly moved on and replaced him with you.

So fuck talking.

“No,” Jason tried as hard as he could to not let the tightness he felt in his chest affect him. “Move. I won’t repeat it again.”

“We miss you, Jason,” Dick pleaded, “You have no idea how happy I was when I found out you were alive.”

His throat was constricting, his breath shallow. No, Grayson was lying.

“Alfred spent the whole night crying,” Dick chuckled.

Stop it. Don’t talk about Alfred.

He felt his eyes stinging with tears.

“He was saying that he couldn’t wait to make your favourite-”

BANG!

“Fuck!” Dick screamed out in pain, collapsing to his knees and clutching his left thigh.

Jason heard you gasp behind him, and he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to run with him to his car.

“You shot him,” you quietly whispered.

Jason was speeding away, the docks long behind him.

“He’s had a lot worse,” he grunted at you.

“You didn’t have to shoot him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he snapped, “Would you rather he caught the both of us? Unveil your identity? Show him how you were with me all along?”

“We could have taken him down together,” you muttered.

Jason let out a bark of laughter.

“You’re fucking stupid if you think the both of us can take down Grayson with just hand-to-hand,” he sneered, “Even if we could, let’s waste time and wait for Batman to catch up, right? Was that what you wanted?”

You remained silent.

“Didn’t think so.”

Jason gripped the steering wheel tight while he drove to the rendezvous point, selected carefully based on the absence of cameras in the area.

“I need to get back quick before they do,” you spoke up, “With Dick injured, they’re probably rushing back as well.”

“How do you plan on sneaking back in?” Jason asked out of curiosity.

“I deactivated the motion sensors.”

Jason frowned. Interesting.

“And I rented a motorbike a while back specifically for this. I park it outside the gate, hide it in some bushes so I don’t need to make noise opening and closing the gates every time I go in or out,” you explained, “I either play music in my room or play recorded noises of me doing things.”

“You’ve truly mastered the art of sneaking out now,” Jason teased, a small hint of pride swelling in his chest.

He made a turn into the same alleyway as before and switched off his engine.

“I need to go,” you moved to leave.

Without thinking, as if on reflex, Jason reached out and grabbed you by the wrists. You looked at him in question, an eyebrow raised, waiting for him to say something.

Jason looked back at you, the nauseous feeling returning again.

“Nothing,” he let go of you, “Sorry.”

You hesitated, as if you wanted to say something. In the end you nodded stiffly and left.

Jason took off his helmet and let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He leaned forward to rest his forehead on the steering wheel, coming to terms with the realisation that the nausea he felt was actually butterflies.

***

You tripped over your chair as you were climbing into your room from the window, causing some things on your desk to fall to the floor with a loud thud.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

You hurriedly took off your shoes and changed into your pyjamas, kicking the backpack full of your gear under your bed to be hidden in your secret place later. You ruffled your hair and then looked into your mirror, realising that you hadn’t taken off your contact lenses yet.

You heard footsteps approaching.

“Fuck, fuck, ow!” you accidentally poked yourself in the eye.

The moment you put in the last contact lens in its case, you heard a knock on your door.

“It’s me.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, then went to open the door.

“Yeah?”

Bruce looked at you with serious, tired eyes, still in his Batsuit sans the cowl.

“Dick got shot,” he stated.

“W-what?” you widened your eyes in shock, just as practiced. “Is he okay?”

You rushed out the room and hurried to the Manor’s infirmary where all of you went if there was a serious accident besides scrapes and cuts. Rushing out in panic would cover any body language that could reveal anything.

“He’s fine,” Bruce followed you from behind, “Lost a bit of blood, that’s all.”

You opened the doors to the infirmary to see Dick in a t-shirt and boxers on a bed, hooked to an IV bag. His left thigh was already bandaged. Alfred was adjusting the flow of the IV.

“Dick!” you rushed to his side, “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ve had worse.”

“What happened?” you repeated, sitting on the side of the bed.

Dick exchanged a look with Bruce.

“We were patrolling near the docks, then we heard gunshots,” Dick explained, “Turns out it was… Red Hood.”

“He… shot you?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he groaned, “I really didn’t think he would.”

“You have to stop thinking that this is the Jason you used to know,” you scolded, and then turned to Bruce with angry eyes, “Both of you. Don’t you think your judgement’s been clouded? That’s why it’s better if I’m with you. I never knew him, I’d be more objective and-”

“No,” Bruce said sternly, “End of discussion.”

You scowled. “What was he doing there anyway?”

Dick glanced at Bruce again.

“Weapons exchange,” Bruce answered, “He was hijacking a weapons exchange.”

If you weren’t there, you would have believed Bruce without a doubt. You clenched your jaw, making sure you don’t reveal anything.

“Why did he shoot at you?” you turned to Dick.

“He was probably being protective,” he said.

“Protective?”

“Yeah, the girl was there,” Dick recounted, “You should have seen him with her. It was like he was protecting her from me. His body language, stance and everything made it seem like she was precious cargo.”

You frowned.

“If I had to guess, she’s probably someone he cares about,” Dick smiled softly. “I’m sort of happy, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s… going through a lot,” Dick went on, “I’m glad there’s someone with him.”

Your mouth was dry. You turned and saw that Bruce was long gone.

“You don’t think she’s his prisoner or something?” you tried, “Maybe she’s being blackmailed or forced into staying with him.”

“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head, “She looked like she was depending on him to protect her.”

Your left eye twitched in annoyance.

“Really,” you grit.

“Yeah, I mean,” Dick elaborated, “She looked scared. I guess I can’t blame her. It’s Batman.”

You remained silent to recollect your thoughts. Then-

“What are you going to do once you catch him?” you pursed your lips.

“Help him,” Dick replied like it was the most obvious thing.

“What if he doesn’t want help?” you pressed on, “Are you going to lock him away?”

“Only as a last resort,” Dick said, “But maybe being with family will make him see sense. Hopefully.”

“I guess you and Batman defy your own system too, huh?” you scoffed, standing up.

“What do you mean?”

“If Red Hood wasn’t Jason,” you argued, “If he was just some random guy who wanted to take matters in his own hands using violence and murder, you and Bruce would just lock him up either in Arkham or Blackgate depending on whether or not he pleads insanity. But because you know Jason personally…”

“You’re saying we should just lock him up instead of helping?” Dick asked perplexed.

“No, I’m just saying it’s kind of hypocritical that just because you know him, you’re giving him an out that you wouldn’t give anyone else,” you shrugged.

“We don’t just know him, he’s family,” Dick reminded you, “We don’t abandon family.”

You remained silent.

“Look,” Dick sighed and looked at you sympathetically, “I know what he did to you was wrong, and trust me, Bruce will make sure he atones for that. I’m not suggesting that he automatically come back and live here, especially because, well, you won’t be okay with it. Which is fine. You don’t have to put up with him. And we’re not making up excuses for him either. Like I said, Bruce was… very upset when he found out what happened to you. And that’s putting it lightly.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. You really didn’t care much about all of that. You had since then voluntarily asked him to do more to you than just suck hickies on your neck.

“But, this isn’t Jason,” Dick went on, “I mean, yes it is, but, he’s not rational. He’s angry and lashing out, and needs help. I’m not siding with him for what he did to you and we’re not dismissing it. I just wanted you to know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled, “Get some rest. Text me if you need anything.”

At least Jason’s sense of righteousness was simple and straightforward. You harmed innocents? You get his gun. There weren’t loopholes and justifications and complicated principles.

Plain and simple eye for an eye.

You turned to leave, unsatisfied with the lies and hypocrisy.

*** From the first crack of lightning you saw in the dark sky, you should have used it as a warning to stay home that Saturday night. But somehow you couldn’t help but go out to see Jason, knowing what he was planning to do.

You could have been in your bed, studying for your mocks with a mug of warm green tea in your hands and a plate of cookies on your desk, but instead, you were clutching the leather of Red Hood’s jacket, slippery and glistening from the downpour as he zoomed on his motorbike, you seated behind him.

Unlike the Robin uniform, though it wasn’t waterproof, the clothing you wore on nights with Jason was not state of the art. At least your Robin uniform didn’t get heavy when wet, and at least it wasn’t as absorbent. The rain made the zylon even heavier, making it difficult for you to move around.

The sound of rain pounding hard on your helmet was almost as loud as the wind. Jason didn’t care that the ground was slippery, he was still going recklessly as fast as he usually would.

He made a sharp turn into a lonely, dark road, with nothing but trees surrounding it. The road was going uphill, away from the city centre. You were approaching a mansion- modern style with glass walls.

Right before the trees cleared up, Red Hood swerved the bike into the bushes without warning, and then stopped once the both of you were deep enough within the cover of the trees. He cut off the engine, and you hurriedly climbed off.

Red Hood followed suit then, and you tried your best to not let your eyes linger on the way the water trickled down his chest, past the the red bat symbol, and down again, dipping into his-

“Fucking Gotham,” he grunted, voice crackling through the scrambler.

“At least you have a jacket,” you grit, teeth clenched as to not let them clatter.

He turned to look at you for a moment, and then started removing his leather jacket.

“N-no, it’s fine,” you refused, “It’s too big and it’ll be hard for me to move in. It’ll just be a hazard.”

Inside, your heart fluttered at the rare display of kindness.

“Whatever,” he shrugged it back on. “You remember the plan?”

“Plan?” you scoffed, “You mean sneak in, look for the master bedroom, then kill the Powers’?“

“You’re not going to stop me, are you?” he came closer to you, “If you’re going to mess it up, I’d rather tie you to the tree.”

“My, Red Hood,” you smirked, knowing that he couldn’t see it underneath your mask, “I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I’m serious,” he growled, “If you try to stop me, I will make you pay for it.”

“Whatever, let’s just get inside,” you turned away, “I’m fucking freezing.”

It would have been tough for anyone to sneak past all the security, cameras, bypassing alarm systems and into the mansion. But you and Red Hood weren’t just anyone. Both being trained by Batman, plus whatever it was that Jason gained over the years he wasn’t with Batman, it was only trickier than average.

Once you were in, you had to admit that you always thought the Powers’ had good taste. The interior was minimalistic, with furniture that were all neutral tones that went with the glass walls and with marble tops of exquisite design placement. You glanced at the exit to the backyard, which was a glass sliding door that spanned all the way from the ceiling to the floor.

It had only been one year since you were last there for their daughter’s birthday, ignorant of what was going on.

What the hell were you doing there?

“Split up,” Red Hood whispered from behind you, “Look for the master bedroom. Let me know when you find it.”

He gripped your hand and forced an earpiece in it.

Both you and Jason went up the marble staircase and stopped at the top. The hallway stretched from one end to the other, nothing in the way but a few potted plants.

He went right, and you took it as an instruction to go left.

Fuck, what were you doing? Were you going to stop him?

But the Powers’ deserved it. There was no other way, or else Bruce would have done something already.

Still, were you just going to stand by and watch while he murdered people?

You peeked into the first room, and saw that the bed with pink sheets was occupied by a small figure, wrapped in the covers like a cute little burrito.

Carrie Powers. Sleeping soundly while her parents were about to be killed.

Oh, God.

But how could they do this? Traffick other children when they had one of their own?

“Down the hall, first door on the left,” Jason’s hushed voice appeared in your ear.

Fuck, you had to stop him.

You closed the door quietly, and went to the room Jason had mentioned. It was opened by a crack, and you pushed it softly.

The view you saw made your heart skip a beat.

Red Hood had taken off his jacket and dumped it on the white setee in the middle of the very large master bedroom. He was standing by the super king sized bed, pointing an oddly shaped dagger at Maria Powers, who was fast asleep.

The power he so obviously exerted as he was standing over her, muscles taut with anticipation, contemplating which angle was best to slit her throat- it made your breath hitch.

“What do you think, V?” he said out loud, “How should I do it?”

His voice stirred the Powers awake, but before they could react, he grabbed Maria by the neck and lifted her so she sat upright, immediately pressing the knife against her cheek.

“Any of you scream, I’ll carve a smile into her face,” Red Hood threatened.

Joseph Powers, who finally snapped out of his groggy state, scrambled to his feet.

“W-what? Who are you?” he panicked, “What do you want?”

“No sudden movements,” Red Hood ordered, “I’m thinking whether or not I should make this quick and easy, or have some fun first.”

“We have money,” Joseph started, “Please. We’ll give you anything. Just don’t hurt us.”

“Oh, it’s not money I want,” Red Hood said cooly, “No. I want names.”

“What? What names?” Joseph asked, perplexed.

“Names of every politician, judge, CEO, or beat cop who is in on this little operation of yours.”

“I- I don’t understand,” the man stammered, “I think you’ve got it all wrong. We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh?” Jason played along, “Maybe I’ll give you a little reminder.”

Red Hood snapped his head towards you, his red helmet glowing ominously in the dark.

“Bring the girl.” Despite being soaking wet in a weather that would usually make your bones clatter, hearing Red Hood say those words in a calm voice made a chill run down your spine for the first time that night

“No,” Maria whimpered, but silenced herself when her captor tightened his grip.

“What?” you gasped.

“The kid,” he growled, “Bring her here.”

“We’re not involving the kid,” you stood your ground.

“V,” he warned, “Don’t make me repeat myself. You better-”

“Mommy?” you heard a small squeak at the door and turned to see little Carrie, with her big chocolate eyes wearing her purple butterfly print pyjamas.

“Carrie, go back to your room,” Joseph ordered, “Please. She’s innocent.”

“And the kids you have kidnapped, shipped, and raped aren’t?” Red Hood fumed.

You saw the microsecond momentary realisation in both the Powers’ eyes, before they tried to cover it up again.

“Daddy? Mommy?” Carrie called in a shaky voice, “What’s going on?”

“Go back to your room, Carrie!”

“Carrie, do you want to help mommy?” Red Hood drawled.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Come closer, Carrie,” Red Hood persuaded.

“Red Hood,” you protested.

“If you’re not going to help, then shut the fuck up,” he snarled.

Carrie entered the room but stood quietly behind you.

Her father looked at you with desperation in his eyes, “Please help us.”

“You’re filth to me,” you snapped at him, enjoying the way he cringed.

Joseph was usually a proud man, handsome for his age, with a fit body and perfect salt and pepper hair. The man you saw then was pathetic. DIsgusting,

Filth.

“But I won’t hurt your kid,” you added.

You expected to see relief printed on his face, and clenched your jaw when you didn’t.

“I can’t promise he wouldn’t, though,” you nodded at Red Hood, feeling like shit for using his daughter as leverage, “So you’d better give us names.”

Joseph looked like his brain was about to explode, his eyes quickly darting back and forth from his wife, to his kid, to you. He was running his hands through his hair in obvious distress.

“You don’t understand,” he admitted, “If we give you names, we’re as good as dead.”

“Joseph!” Maria yelled.

She was furious at him- and you thought at first it would be because he wouldn’t compromise to save her. After observing the way he took a small step back and the way she was holding him by the eyes, you realised that she was warning him not to confess.

She was obviously the one calling the shots.

“If you don’t give us names, you’re good as dead,” Red Hood told him, “Or would you rather me convince you in other ways?”

He nodded at Carrie. You felt a little protective of her, standing up straighter to defend her from Red Hood.

Joseph and Maria ignored the threat and was looking at each other intensely, trying their best to communicate without words.

Then, Joseph calmed down. He straightened up into the proud man you always saw him to be, a smirk playing on his arrogant features.

“I’m sorry, but this is business,” he sneered, “And we swore our clients’ secrecy.”

Red Hood paused.

Then-

“We’ll see about that.”

He grabbed a fistful of Maria’s cropped blond hair and pulled her to the dressing table. You heard that Carrie had started to sob behind you.

“Put your right hand flat on the table,” he demanded.

“Red Hood-” you tried.

“Now!” he barked.

She raised her shaking hand and rested it on the table hesitantly.

The first thing you heard was Maria’s cry- muffled by Red Hood’s large gloved hand- before you registered what had happened.

In an instant, Red Hood had cut off her pinky finger, and then raised the dagger, which you now saw had a blade that was wavy from the bottom to the tip, glistening a sticky, sickly dark red.

“Mommy!” Carrie screamed.

With all the commotion, you wondered why the security still hadn’t heard you yet. Then you realised that the glass walls were probably shatter and bullet proof, making it thick enough to be almost sound proof.

That shook Joseph slightly, his smirk had been wiped off clean and his forehead had beads of sweat.

“I can do this another nine times,” Red Hood snarled.

You had to stop this before it went too far. Slowly, you approached him.

“Red Hood,” you cautioned, “Let’s continue this another time, when the kid isn’t around.”

“Stay out of my way,” he turned to you.

“Let’s think rationally here,” you went closer, trying to speak over Maria’s wails, “There’s no way we have the time to torture for information when there’s a dozen armed men outside who might notice that something is off.”

“That’s why you’re here,” he scoffed, “So you can deal with them.”

“Do you really want to deal with them in front of the girl?” you tried again, “She’s five. She shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“They were going to wait a few years before selling her off anyway,” he seethed, “I’m doing her a favor.”

“No!” Joseph denied, “Not her. Never her.”

“How sweet.” Red Hood hissed sarcastically.

“Red Hood, come on,” you persuaded, “We can pick this up again another time.”

“And what?” he yelled, “Wait for them to run to the other side of the world? Where I have to hunt them down all over again? I do not have the time or the patience to- what the fuck did you just do?!”

Red Hood shouted at Joseph, who had moved quickly to the bedside table. His eyes widened in panic, and so did yours when you saw he had pressed a button on the underside of the table.

“Fuck!” Red Hood swore, “This is your fucking fault!”

He brandished the blade at you. “Fine,” he pulled Maria up again, “Looks like playtime’s over.”

Without warning, you saw him raise the dagger to Maria’s neck, and as if in slow motion, you just looked on by as he carved a big red smile across her throat.

The next thing you felt was a gush of warmth spray all over your face and torso. The blood that had gushed out of Maria was like a pulsating fountain of red.

“Maria!” Joseph screamed, “You fucking bastard!”

Red Hood leapt across the bed and pushed the man violently against the glass wall.

“Names!” he growled, taking Joseph’s head and thrusting it against the glass, leaving a smear of dark red.

Yet you were there, just frozen and blinking on the spot as you stared at Maria’s lifeless body on the grey carpeted floor, blood still splashing from her throat in the rhythm of her slowly dying heart.

Everything was red, and smelled like metal, and tasted like metal. Ew, did some get in your mouth? But you were wearing a mask. Why was there so much of it?

Did humans have this much blood in them? It seemed endless. Are we all just bags of blood in the end?

Carrie’s wails snapped you back to reality.

You rushed to her and kneeled down.

“Hey sweetheart, listen to me,” you tried to get through to her, “You have to go hide in that closet over there, okay?”

You picked her up. She was light, her body fragile and weak, and you opened the closet to reveal a walk-in.

You set her down on the floor and tried to comfort her again, “I want you to close your eyes, and close your ears, and then sing a song, okay? Don’t stop singing until the police comes. Can you do that?”

All she did was cry.

Fuck, she wasn’t going to listen to you.

So you just closed the closet door.

Red Hood was still smashing Joseph’s head against the wall. You noticed that he was now missing an ear.

Then you heard footsteps approaching you fast. Lots of them.

You took out your escrima sticks and got ready to fight a dozen armed men while Red Hood tortured Joseph Powers for information.

***

“Did you even get any names?” you monotoned.

The both of you were at the rendezvous, with Red Hood leaning against his beautiful black superbike and you standing awkwardly, holding your arms.

The smell and sight and taste of blood still consumed you. You hoped that the rain would have washed it away, but against all your luck, the moment you escaped the mansion, the rain had stopped.

Red Hood and you left behind a crying kid in the closet, a woman with a slashed throat in a pool of her own blood, a man beaten to death so bloody that he didn’t have any recognizable human features left, five unconscious and seventeen dead men in that house.

Red Hood simply looked away from you and took off his helmet and mask. He looked clean, because even in the midst of everything, he had managed to take his jacket from the settee.

“No?” you smirked, “So all of that for nothing?”

He gave you a glare, cold blue eyes piercing yours.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” you sighed, taking off your mask as well. It was soaked in blood.

“What?”

“Were you really going to hurt the kid?”

You saw his jaw clench.

“I don’t hurt innocents,” he looked away from you again.

You felt a wave of relief alongside your nausea, but however relieved you were, it still didn’t get the image of him slitting a woman’s throat out of your head.

If the circumstances were different, maybe you would have been turned on by that, as fucked up as it was. By the power he exhibited, the precision, the danger - you knew that you had a thing for that.

But he killed her in front of her own daughter, who shouldn’t have had to see that. Hell, who shouldn’t have had to be there in the first place.

It made you question him even more than before.

“Nope, you just traumatize them for the rest of their life,” you scoffed.

In a flash, his hands were around your throat.

“Don’t fucking talk to me that way,” he growled, “I haven’t forgotten how you fucked things up for me.”

“Fucked things up for you?” you repeated.

“You distracted me,” he told you, “And that prick went and sounded the alarm.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for trying to convince you not to murder a mother in front of her daughter!”

“Sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, “You’re playing with fire.”

Jason’s pupils had started to dilate, as if it was a black hole that was eating away at the blue. Your eyes fluttered towards his lips, which were slightly parted.

And then he smirked.

“I guess I have to punish you for disobeying me,” he drawled.

You gulped loudly, trying hard to not let the warmth in your stomach spark for the man in front of you.

“You know,” he whispered, his other hand snaking around your waist and pulling you flushed against his chest, “I’ve always imagined what you would look like covered in blood.”

Oh, fuck.

So did you. You had imagined what he looked like when he was beating a person half to death, how the muscles in his back would ripple with every blow.

You were so fucked up.

“And what do you think?” you bit your lip, squeezing your thighs together.

You were just upset at him a moment ago, and now you were turned on? You pieced together that you had a dangerous coping mechanism.

The fingers that were around your throat were caressing your cheek now, his thumb brushing against your lips.

“Better than I imagined,” he grinned, dipping down to kiss you.

He pushed his wet tongue into your mouth without hesitation, fucking it while he grabbed your ass and squeezed hard, almost painfully. He would bite and nip at your lips before licking them.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, “You taste like blood.”

You felt him grind on you, though you knew the hardness was from the protective cup he was wearing. You still couldn’t feel much either, due to the soaked body armor.

“Bend over the bike,” he commanded.

“Wait, what?” you gasped.

“You heard me.”

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as you slowly approached the vehicle. When you were at its side, you glanced behind you. Jason had the most arrogant smirk ever while his arms were crossed.

After taking a deep breath, you tiptoed and winced in embarrassment when you positioned yourself bent over the seat, your ass jutting out.

Warm hands started rubbing your waist, going down to your ass and thighs.

“How do I take this off,” you heard him complain.

Your bottom was only latex tights.

When Jason finally figured it out, he pulled down hard, exposing your ass to the cool air.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his hand roaming to massage it.

“Jason, we’re in public,” you reminded him.

“So?” he responded, “It’s 2am, and it’s Gotham, baby. Public indecency is the least of everyone’s worries.”

You felt him shift behind you, and gasped when you felt a long, wet strip from your clitoris to your hole.

“Taste so good,” he groaned.

His tongue felt good.

He continued to tease you by licking your wet opening but never dipping inside, just making you wet with your own juices and his saliva. But suddenly you felt a sharp, piercing pain on your pussy flesh.

“Fuck!” you screamed and turned to look back at him grinning at you, “Did you just fucking bite me?”

“What did you think I was going to do when I said you needed punishment?”

“I don’t know, spank me or some shit?” you breathed, “Not fucking bite me!”

“Oh, but you would like to be spanked,” he told you, “And that wouldn’t be much of a punishment would it?”

He bit you again, but this time soothed the pain by licking you after.

Still, it didn’t stop the jolts of electricity that stung you every time he did.

“Fuck!” you gasped again, “Stop it- oh, fuck.”

He had slid a finger inside you- you noticed it was ungloved.

And then he started a barrage of confusing sensations, biting and nipping at your pussy to cause you pain, and then licking it away while pumping his finger inside of you to spark pleasure.

It didn’t take you long until you were moaning and panting and fucking sweating in the post-rain weather.

The warmth was building and building as he kept licking and biting and finger fucking you, twisting inside of you and touching your most pleasurable spots. You felt yourself start to tighten around his finger as the now familiar sensation of approaching orgasm started.

And then it was all gone.

Jason removed his finger and stopped licking. You turned around furiously to see him smirking at you with dark hooded eyes.

Oh, now you understood. The punishment wasn’t the biting at all.

He wouldn’t let you come.

You spent the next minute glaring angrily at him, refusing to say a word while he just stared back with intense eyes, breathing almost as heavily as you were.

And then he dove back in.

“Fucking hell,” you moaned as the pleasure built and built and built again.

And then stopped.

You wanted to fucking yell at him, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

He continued again, this time even harder with the licks and bites, harder with the way he fucked your cunt, even inserting a second finger that drew the most vulgar sound from your lips. You felt yourself building again, but when you expected him to stop, he didn’t.

This time, he kept you going higher and higher, your knees growing weaker, until you reached and were just dangling on the edge of-

And it was all gone.

���Jason!” you yelled, “Come the fuck on!”

You heard him chuckle behind you. And then you felt him grind against your ass, rough and heavy and desperate.

Probably because he was still wearing a protective cup, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to feel much. You wanted him to take his cock out already, so he could start fucking you senseless as you were bent over his bike.

But then, he stopped. And he pulled up your pants to cover you up, even giving you a small smack on the butt.

“What?” you straightened and turned around.

“What?” he pretended to be clueless, even though you saw the obvious lust that was etched on his handsome yet tired face.

“You- I- why don’t- fuck!” you stuttered, squeezing your thighs together. You were so wet that you felt yourself soaking through the tights despite it already being wet from the earlier rain.

“Oh, did you want to come?” he asked innocently, “Sorry, but girls who disobey my orders don’t get what they want.”

“You’re torturing yourself as well,” you grit, and to prove a point grabbed his crotch, earning yourself a hiss from him.

He grabbed your wrists to pull you closer, “We’re in public. Remember?”

Then he took a step back and gave you a shit eating grin.

“Whatever,” you sighed frustratedly, “I’m fucking covered in blood anyway. Fuck, I need to get PEP tomorrow. You should, too.”

“What?” he frowned.

“Post-exposure prophylaxis,” you explained, “We’re covered in blood, Jason, ever heard of HIV?”

He blinked once at you, and then broke into a fit of laughter.

“It’s not funny!” you defended, “It’s just for a just in case!”

“I’m pretty sure Maria fucking Powers does not have HIV,” he teased.

The mention of Maria brought the image to your mind again. The Jason in front of you had a twinkle in his eye, his expression soft after laughing at your logic. It was hard to imagine that under an hour ago, he had slit a woman’s throat.

In front of her own daughter.

Jason must have noticed your expression change, because he became serious again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, concern in his eyes as he held you by the waist.

Was he actually concerned? Or was he still playing mind games with you?

Why would anyone want a dirty whore like you?

And, there it was. Mother was back again.

“Nothing,” you looked away. “I just need to get all this blood off me.”

“We’re done here,” Jason informed you, “You can go back any time.”

“Well,” you started hesitantly, “I don’t think I can go back like this. All this blood- it’s too hard to cover up. My clothes, my shoes, everything is just covered in blood. Why is there so much fucking blood-”

“Hey, hey,” he stopped you, “Calm down. It’s fine. You can come back with me.”

“W-what?” you looked up at him. He seemed so genuine. Was it a trap?

He must have noticed as well, because his face immediately turned into a scowl, “I trust that you won’t tell Batman. After tonight, you’d be fucked along with me if it ever got to him. Take it or leave it, I’m not offering again.”

He let go of you and climbed on his bike, turning on the engine.

He looked back at you, who was still stunned on the spot.

“You coming or what?”

Oh, you were so fucked.

***

Your jaw dropped when you saw the interior of his safe house.

From the outside, it looked just like an abandoned shipment container amongst many other abandoned shipment containers in an abandoned shipping dock. You had expected it to be just a mattress, some pillows, with his weapons dumped messily on the floor.

No, his safe house looked like an actual safe house.

His bed was an actual Queen sized bed with matching bed sheets and pillowcases. His weapons were arranged in a glass cabinet display neatly against the freshly painted cream colored walls- the walls weren’t even the tin walls of the shipment container. He must have added another layer of plywood, with some sort of insulator in between which kept the room warm.

You noticed a beautiful katana resting on its stand. He had a wooden dining table with a fucking oriental tea set on it.

“The shower’s through there,” he pointed at the far corner of the room, which was separated by a wall. “Take off your clothes and just dump it in front of the washing machine.”

A fucking washing machine.

You nodded silently and followed his directions, turning into the corner. His bathroom was simple, yet still elegantly placed with tile flooring.

He had the time to put fucking tiles in his fucking toilet.

The white porcelain of his toilet and sink shined brightly in the warm lights of the bathroom. Next to the toilet was the shower, the segment separated by a curtain. The only thing that was out of placed in his entire makeshift home was the mirror over the sink.

It was cracked. You only saw glimpses of yourself in the pieces that were big enough to catch your reflection- a pair of tired eyes and skin that was covered in dried blood that had long ago oxidized and turned dark brown.

You stripped off your clothes, struggling to peel them off your skin, and then dumped them on the floor in front of the washing machine and stepped into the shower.

You turned it on.

The bastard even had hot running water.

You moaned at the relief and looked down on the floor, watching as the water turned brown, washing away the blood and sweat and filth on your skin. You reached for his shampoo and couldn’t help but giggle at his choice.

It was pomegranate scented with red packaging and labelled Long Term Relationship.

Well, it smelled divine. He had great taste in scents.

Look at you. So desperate to smell like him. Pathetic.

“Him and hundreds of other women, probably,” you muttered.

Once you were done, you stepped on the floor mat and saw a neatly folded towel and clothes on top of the toilet seat. You dried yourself off and put on his t-shirt.

It was too big on you, the sleeves went down to your elbows and the hem went down to your mid-thighs. You saw that he also set aside a pair of shorts, but there was no way you were going to be able to wear that without them sliding down.

You breathed in.

The combination of the shampoo, and the smell of his t-shirt made you smile. It was familiar, but you never really noticed it besides the fabric softener.

Yet, it was unmistakably him. Now all you needed to do was rub gun-powder all over yourself and voila.

You stepped outside to see he had shrugged off his jacket, and was sitting at the dining table, wiping his helmet down with hand sanitizer.

“Shower’s free,” you approached him, passing him your wet towel and his shorts, “Thanks for the shirt, but the shorts are too big.”

His jaw clenched when he looked up at you. You saw the way his eyes darted from your own and down to your body.

He snatched the items from your hand and got up. “Don’t touch anything.”

You heard the shower turn on.

And then you were alone, standing awkwardly in the middle of his safe house.

Everything seemed so normal.

There weren’t many personal things lying around aside from clothes and a few books that he had arranged on a bookshelf, but it didn’t scream ‘Go away’ or ‘Psychopath’. It was simple, homey, warm.

Until you noticed a pinboard that hung in front of his bed.

The nearer you got, you saw familiar faces. Mainly yours.

A blurred photo of you as Robin with Batman. A few articles regarding Batman handing Joker over to the authorities, a couple about Bruce Wayne adopting you following your parents’ deaths, and photocopied police statements about the investigation of your parents.

You frowned.

You knew he had done extensive research on you, you knew that he had shimmied his way into your life and manipulated you for his gain, you knew all that. But seeing everything out in the open made your heart ache.

A whole portion of the board had many of your pictures on it, as well. Stalker photos, as you liked to call it. Zoomed in from far away, candid shots of you in your uniform, swimming, smiling and waving at your classmates, walking in the mall, studying in the library.

“Like my photography skills?”

You jumped at his voice. He was so silent whenever he approached you. You should have noticed that much earlier on.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” you shook your head, still looking at the photos, “But I have to say, I didn’t know I looked this good in my uniform.”

“Oh, baby girl, if only you knew,” he chuckled.

“Please, I-”

You finally turned and choked on whatever words you were going to say.

Jason was standing at the foot of his bed behind you with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and dripping droplets of water down onto his bare chest, his arms crossed and accentuating even more the size of his biceps. He looked so clean.

So normal.

Well, his hotness was hardly normal, but he didn’t seem like some trigger happy crime lord.

He raised a knowing eyebrow at your expression. You didn’t realise your mouth was open.

“I should burn this fucking place down for what you did to my library,” you shot at him.

“It’s been months, get over it,” he rolled his eyes, and sat on the bed, back resting against propped pillows.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

“Why would I? I’m in my own bed.”

You gulped.

“Bruce- Dick- Everyone-” you stammered, “They’ve probably figured out that I’m not in my room. It’s three thirty in the morning and the music is still playing loudly in my room, I mean, someone has probably knocked and didn’t get an answer so-”

“Your clothes will only be ready in two hours,” Jason interrupted you, “Or would you rather go back home in just my shirt with no bra and panties?”

“I can actually think of an excuse if I did,” you chuckled nervously, “Dick thinks I’ve been sleeping with a guy named Carter.”

“Who’s Carter?” Jason demanded, his expression changing into one that was furious.

“No one,” you quickly explained, “He saw your stupid texts, so I told him your name was Carter and that we were going out.”

He relaxed at your explanation.

Wait a minute.

Was he jealous?

You smiled to yourself, entertaining the possibility.

“And I do actually have a change of clothes in my backpack,” you said, “Which is in your bike.”

“You’re not leaving me with the laundry, princess,” he scoffed, “Stay. Once your clothes are done I’ll even fold them for you.”

“How hospitable,” you snickered.

You stood there awkwardly again, not knowing where you’d be welcomed.

“The bed won’t slit your throat, you know,” he teased, “You can lie down and sleep until you need to go.”

You pursed your lips and played with the edges of the shirt. You knew what was going to happen in that bed.

You went to the opposite side of bed and sat down nervously. You put your feet up and stretched it, just like Jason’s .

The bed was comfy, the pillows fluffy and warm. You could finally feel yourself relaxing into it-

Jason grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, your back flushed against his front. And finally, finally you could feel the hardness of his cock pressed against your ass.

“I’ve been hard ever since you came out of the shower,” he breathed into your ear, grinding against you.

You wanted to moan at the feeling of his heavy length on you, you wanted to grind back onto him and turn him on even more, but mother started screaming.

ARE YOU A LADY OR A WHORE?

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“What?” Jason asked.

“Nothing,” you turned to him. “Kiss me.”

He granted your request and gave you a searing kiss.

Rolling in bed with a dirty criminal.

“Shut up!” you screamed.

“What the fuck?” Jason yelled, “I didn’t say anything!” “No,” you shook your head, “Sorry. Not you. I wasn’t talking to you.”

He looked at you suspiciously.

“I- I hear my mother sometimes,” you admitted.

You waited for him to call you crazy, but he never did. Instead, he looked at you seriously.

“Tell me more.”

“Not physically,” you started, “But I imagine what she would have said to me if she were watching me- which is why I never kissed a boy before this. Or masturbated. She stops me from doing anything filthy.”

“Filthy?”

“By her standards,” you elaborated, “Filthy or vulgar or inappropriate, she controls my actions.”

“How long,” he asked.

“Ever since they died,” you sighed.

“But you were fine all those other times,” he inquired, “Why now?”

“It gradually became less and less frequent,” you explained, “Like, when we did those things through video call, I felt comfortable and it just- it felt right. And it stopped completely during my first time with you.”

“So you saying it doesn’t feel right, right now?” he clenched his jaw.

“It’s not you!” you added quickly, “It’s me. No matter how much I want to, I just can’t help it. She’s there.”

“Look, I get it,” he sighed, leaning onto the propped pillows, “Fuck, I get it.”

“You do?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes.

“What? You think getting beaten to a pulp with a crowbar, getting exploded, and having to crawl out of your own grave wouldn’t fuck you up?” he growled, “You’re not special. Get over it.”

Even though he said it in a way that was harsh and definitely not conventional, he basically told you what you needed to hear- that you weren’t the only one that was fucked up, and if there was any comfort at all, it’d be the fact that you were fucked up together.

You smiled when you saw him, his arms crossed, eyebrows stitched together in a frown, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.

“Well, I really wanted to,” you paused, “You know.” Jason looked over to you then. “You said she screams in your ear, right?”

“Yeah?”

He smirked, then came closer to you again, caressing your cheek and tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear, where he leaned in to whisper.

“Then that just means we need to be louder.”

He gripped your thigh and forced your legs open, cupping your sex with his hands.

He’s defiling you.

“I hated you,” he slipped a finger between your folds and gently ran it up and down, gathering your slick, “But now I just can’t seem to keep on hating you anymore.”

Your heart fluttered at his confession.

He teased your clit, giving only light brushes on it, barely even touching you.

But everyone else will hate you.

“Talk to me, baby,” he instructed, “Tell me you don’t hate me anymore.”

“I-” you panted, “I don’t hate you anymore.”

A filthy man for a filthy girl.

“Mmm, good girl,” he purred, now adding pressure to your clit, making you squirm.

The praise did wonders to you. You felt your cheeks heating up, your heartbeat going faster and faster.

I raised you to act like a lady, not like a bitch in heat.

His other hand slipped underneath the shirt, trailing up from your waist to cup your breast and gave it a squeeze.

You moaned out loud when he started pinching them.

Vulgar sounds will only get you dirty men.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that,” he rasped against your skin, hot breath sending goosebumps all over. “I want you to moan for me, beg for me, scream for me.”

“Jason,” you sighed.

He started properly rubbing on your clit now, sending tingles right to your toes. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet. It makes your pussy look so fucking pretty,” he praised.

At least prostitutes get money when they sleep with other men, and you’re doing this for free.

It was so confusing. On one hand, you had your mother’s voice ringing in your head. On the other, Jason’s dirty, sexy mouth made you think you could actually die from sheer horniness.

He finally slipped a finger inside of you, eliciting a long moan.

You’re going to be loose before you hit-

“Mmm, you like that, baby?” he husked, “You always like it when I put my finger in, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

No one will want you after-

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

Ruined goods-

“Please,” you whined as you spread your legs further apart.

YOU BELONG IN THE-

“Please what, sweetheart?” he teased.

You could only mewl.

LISTEN HERE-

“Please stop?” he added a second finger, and started pumping in and out excruciatingly slow.

STOP IT-

“Please make me come?” he increased his pace.

HORRIBLE-

“Or just… please? .”

He suddenly switched into a brutally fast pace, causing you to scream.

“Jason! Fuck, Jason please just put your cock inside of me and make me come, fuck!” you begged.

He stopped finger fucking you and chuckled out loud. He was hovering over you, his towel long gone, aligning the tip of his dick at the entrance of your cunt.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, and then pushed inside in a swift motion.

“Fuck!” you cried.

“So fucking wet for me,” he panted, pounding into you. “So tight.”

“Jason,” you could only say.

He dipped down to push his tongue into your mouth, fucking your mouth the same rhythm he was fucking your pussy. You were in a state of desperation and euphoria, hazy to reality.

The only thing you were hearing at that moment was the wet sound of flesh on flesh and Jason’s loud grunts into your mouth.

The combination of his cock repeatedly pressing onto the spot within you and his tongue in your mouth made your pussy tighten in no time, closer and closer to orgasm.

“You wanna come, baby girl?” he whispered against your lips.

You nodded hysterically.

“Come for me then, come all over my cock,” he commanded, fucking you faster.

The tight coil in your core exploded, and you felt yourself pulsating all over his length which was still moving.

Jason didn’t give you time to rest.

“Get up on your knees and face the wall,” he growled.

You immediately obeyed, afraid that he would start biting you again if you didn’t. Jason pushed aside his pillows and you placed your hands on the headboard.

He took off the oversized shirt and his hands started roaming your body from behind, squeezing your breasts, running them up and down your thighs, all the while he was kissing your back.

He pushed his cock inside you again without warning, and in the post-orgasm sensitivity, you accidentally gave out and collapsed backwards against him.

“Woah there, baby,” he laughed, gripping you tightly by the waist to stabilize you. “I want to make you come again.”

“Please,” you rasped.

“Yeah?” he started moving slowly behind you, “You want to come again, baby?”

You nodded weakly.

“Tell me, baby girl,” he nipped your earlobe, “Tell me.”

“I want you to make me come again.”

“What a fucking good girl,” he licked your ear.

You could only whimper in response.

He hammered his hips into you hard and fast, all the while gripping your tits with one hand and your waist with other, fucking himself up into you.

And because you were so sensitive from the first orgasm, the fact that he was fucking you again soon after meant that you were already fast approaching your second one.

“Hold out for me just a bit more, sweetheart,” he breathed in your neck, “Please?”

That ‘please’ sort of made your heart melt.

“Anything, Jason,” you replied, trying your best to maintain a level head while he fucked you.

“Ah. fuck, baby,” he stuttered, his hips stuttered, his pace stuttered. “Okay, come with me. Come with me, fuck, fuck.”

The heat you felt before started spreading again, and this time you allowed it and let go. You reached behind you to hold Jason’s head, running your hands in his hair and gripped on it tightly for leverage as you came loud and long.

He withdrew from you so fast that it almost hurt, but then you felt warm splashes on your lower back, dripping down to the globes of your ass and to your thighs.

Your whole body gave out, and you fell down on your front, crashing into the soft bed.

You heard Jason chuckle, and then felt him get up. He returned with his towel and wiped your back, and then joined you on the bed next to you.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Better than okay,” you smiled.

“Mother quiet?” he frowned.

“Surprisingly so,” you yawned.

“Good,” he nodded.

The two of you just stared at each other, and soon enough you got lost in his face. His tired eyes, his crooked nose, his scarred skin. He gave you an odd expression. It wasn’t anger, or hate- hell he was hardly frowning.

He just looked… content.

You guess killing someone would take the energy out of you.

***

When Jason stirred awake, the first thing he felt was the warm body next to him.

For the first time in his entire life, he didn’t wake up alone.

He blinked his eyes open, and nearly laughed out loud when he saw your face next to him. You weren’t a graceful sleeper. Your hair was messy, your mouth hanging open with a little drool on dribbling at the corner.

Yet, he couldn’t help thinking about how absolutely gorgeous you looked.

He felt his chest tighten.

He shifted to the side to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was already 6am. Your clothes were long dry already in the dryer.

“Mmm,” he heard your voice, probably waking up because of his movements.

He turned back to you and saw that you were indeed already awake, facing tummy down with his blanket covering you up to your waist so he had a view of your beautiful, smooth back.

“What time is it,” you asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Six,” he answered, “Your clothes are probably dry.”

“Fuck,” you swore. He loved it when you swore. “I’m going to get into so much trouble.”

“You’re a teenager with a so-called boyfriend,” he snorted, “Make something up.”

“That’s the plan,” you grinned.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and laid on your back.

“I should go,” you sighed sadly, and then sat up.

“Wait,” he grabbed your arm.

Fuck, what was he doing?

“Don’t go,” he whispered, “Stay.”

“I guess I’m already fucked anyways, right?” you smirked.

“No, I meant-” Jason paused, his words catching in his throat. “Stay with me forever. Leave them.”

He saw the many phases of your thoughts written clearly on your face. You blinked with realisation, stopped yourself from smiling, but finally settled with a deep troubled frown.

Fuck.

“I can’t,” you croaked, “I’m sorry, Jason. I can’t do that.”

He felt like taking the keris and ripping out his heart.

“Fine,” he clipped, “Whatever. You want me to send you back, or what?”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll find my way back,” you got up and walked to the dryer to change into your gear. Jason reached for the shorts that you didn’t wear.

He walked you to the door silently, awkwardly. He had given you your backpack from the compartment in his motorbike.

“Jason,” you suddenly turned to him, the frown still evidently clear, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” he grit, his heart dropping to his stomach.

“This thing with you,” you explained, “I can’t see you again. The next time I see you, I’ll be on Batman’s side.”

He felt like someone was throttling him, squeezing every ounce of sanity he had left out. He felt his nails digging into his palms, fists closed, still refraining from doing something he knew he would regret.

“I’m sorry, Jason,” you said, “I won’t tell them about you. If they find you, it will be completely because of them, not me. Okay?”

He didn’t want to look at you. He didn’t want you to see through him.

“Just go,” he managed to choke.

You pursed your lips and then nodded, turning away from him.

He slammed the door shut, and then rushed to his room.

“FUCK!” he roared, grabbing the bed and flipping it over.

“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!”

He went to the dining table and swiped the tea set off, hearing it crash into tiny pieces on his floor before proceeding to flip over the table as well.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” he cried, aware that his cheeks were wet with his tears.

He couldn’t breathe.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He crumpled to the floor and picked up a broken piece of china, closing his fists around it and feeling the stinging pain as it cut into his flesh.

He was losing his mind.

He didn’t know what was up, or down, or what was real or wasn’t.

He wanted it to be all just a long, shitty fucking dream.

He wanted to just wake up back in his room in the Manor, fifteen years old, with the sound of Alfred knocking on his door, asking if he was alright.

It was a different kind of pain that he felt as compared to the one Joker had inflicted on him. It was the same hurt, the same stabbing feeling in his chest when he found out that Bruce had replaced him with you.

The same feeling when he found his mother on the floor with foam in her mouth.

In the midst of pulling his hair, and contemplating on whether he should really use the keris to carve his heart out or slit his own throat, he eventually calmed down after an hour of broken sobs and choking on air.

He sat there on his floor, the blood on his hands now sticky and brown, listening to the deafening silence of his room.

He was alone again.

[fandomlifechoseme]

hi! i i was wondering if you could write a damian wayne x reader where they are soulmates and he rejects her at first but dick finds out and fluff ensues

Hell yeah you can!

It was a fun day at school. All of the theatre kids put on a play while the sports kids played sports I guess, I spent the entire time chilling by myself. It was how I liked it. I spent the entire day drawing which obviously felt like heaven that was until he came around. Damian showed up in the art room I know he like to draw as well so I didn’t say anything against it. But then when I slightly got bored I decided to draw on my arm. I drew a little rose that Grew into a tree I thought it looks nice personally. When I looked up though, Damien was watching me with this disgusted look on as I obviously I thought he was just judging me because I was writing on my own. But then I looked onto his arm and they’re sat the exact same drawings. Shit. I wanted to talk to him about it but he just stood up and ran. Rude. Every day I saw him in the art room and I tried and tried and tried to talk to him. He never even let me get a single word in. One day I cornered him in the art room

“ we need to talk”

“ about what tch”

I quickly picked up my pencil and draw little smile on my wrist. It appeared on his quickly.

“That”

“Honestly I don’t want to be your soulmate either. but we need to talk about it”

He stood up from where he was sitting and gave me the most terrifying glare I have ever seen.

“ you don’t get it though, I’m never going to fall in love with a loser like you. You can’t be my soulmate because my soulmate would actually be good at something not mediocre at drawing”

He then marched out of The art room, leaving me there to just sit in sorrow. How can anyone be that rude. Let alone someone who I’m supposed to fall in love with and someone who I’m supposed to spend the rest my life with. I decided then and there that I would never conform to society is ideal soulmate. I didn’t need someone to be happy. Especially someone who makes me feel like shit. Months go by And every time I see Damien in the hallways I just give him a scoff. I just hope one day he’ll feel as bad as how I felt in that moment. no one in their right mind to get to treat someone like that and get away with it.

Art class was hard because Damian was in my class and Miss worked out they were trouble is between us. She took it upon herself to “fix” us. One day she decided that she would start a project. You had to paint someone you admired. And it was in pairs. So obviously she paired me with the asshole.

“ Who inspires that cold dead heart of yours?” Harsh. I know. But my parents had raised me to believe your soulmate is someone who makes you feel happy and get here. If it none of those boxes harsh. I know. But my parents had raised me to believe your soulmate is someone who makes you feel happy and giddy. Damian fit none of those boxes.

“my heart is very much beating, thank you and I guess Robin.”

Blah!

“Yeah I guess, I definitely prefer Nightwing though, oh! but Red Robin is awesome!” His face goes to pure disgust at the mention of Red Robin.

“Drake would never let me forget it. I’d rather do Nightwing”

At least we came to an agreement? Yano he’s not that ba-

“ oh and stop with the drawing on yourself. I don’t need that on me”

Nope. I take it back he is a 10/10 butthole. I take out my pen and start drawing red robin all over my arms.

“ fine, keep drawing. Just no Red Robin.” I can make this arrangement work out. Missed calls out to everyone, that we have five minutes and it would be best if we work a bit at home.

“My house or yours?”

“Tch, my Manor. obviously”

TIME SKIPPY!

After school ended I started heading over to where Damian was waiting. He offered me a ride begrudgingly. To which I accepted. I expected to be riding home in a simple car. But I did not expect a freaking limo. We get into the car and Damian calls to the driver.

“Pennyworth! This is my partner I was telling you about, We will be working on our project at the home today” pennyworth? That’s a weird name. Maybe it’s his last name.

“ good evening Miss/Mr L/N my name is Alfred pennyworth. You may call me Alfred” I gave Alfred a small smile and thank him for the ride.

“You can you call me Y/N!” We went through most of the ride in complete silence. The only noise was the rare chatter between Alfred and Damian. When we pulled up to Damian’s house immediately recognised it as the Wayne Manor! I forgot he was a Wayne sometimes. He just acts so different to his father. We walk up to the door and hear gunshots. Obviously this scares me a little bit so I asked Damian what it was.

“That’s just Todd. You don’t need to be afraid of him” He says in a comforting voice? When we open the door I recognised Dick Grayson immediately. He may or may not of been my childhood crush, you’ll never know.

“ Grayson. This is my partner L/N. We will be working on a project from 4 to 8 pm. I expect no disturbances throughout this period of time.”Oh so he’s like that at home as well. Dick Grayson turns to me.

“Hi! And what is your name?”

“Y/n! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Out Walks Tim Drake. A distant friend of a friend.

“ honestly, I didn’t even know I’d be here until period four. It’s nice to see you Tim”

Tim then sees my arm Which still is covered with Red Robin

“ you are a fan of Red Robin?” He had an unnatural smile on. Like it looked like pure amusement mixed with doubt and a hint of sleep deprivation.

“Ye-“ before I could finish the sentence Damian grabs my arm and starts leading me to his room I think. Or the art room.

Dick’s POV

I noticed it when Damian grabbed their arm. I noticed the red robin drawn all over his arm too. Oh man. That explains when he came home awkward and semi Upset. I know he has a crush on them maybe they doesn’t have a crush on him. He would come home every day and just talk non-stop about them. Then one day he just stopped. He said at the start of that day that he would finally talk to them. And yet nothing happened. I turned to Tim to ask him

“Did you see what was on his arm?”

“Obviously, how could I ever miss this opportunity. He has red robin written all over his arm and drawn. I’m gonna have to thank Y/n”. After smacking him lightly. I go and try to find out what happened from Alfred. Tim goes back to his lair And does whatever he does when he’s hiding. I had to convince Jason to stop shooting so that Y/N would not think we are under attack. After a lot of digging and talking to everyone including Bruce and my lovely Barbara. I found out what happened. As the great big brother I am I had to get involved. I made a few calls and within minutes I had everything I needed.

“Damian! Y/n! Come downstairs we’re gonna watch a movie!” Obviously I picked out the most romantic movie we owned. It wasn’t really romantic but was the best thing we had.

“Grayson! We are working on the project! We are not watching a movie.” Okay time for plan b. I quickly run up the stairs and slam open the door. It turns out they were doing more than making a project. They were making a painting of me. There’s nothing more romantic than painting me. Well I think I still need to help out a bit. So I leave the movie there for them and ask if Y/N wanted to stay the night.

“I can’t, sorry, my mother would never agree.”

Y/n’s pov

I didn’t want to stay over because, my mother is a murderous people who does not like the idea of staying over boys house and I guess that’s the only reason. I mean Damien‘s bad but we have great conversations. Like before Dick came in we were having a fun conversation about why we admired night wing. Dick looked sad but he left.

“ anyway. Why do you not like Robin?”

“It’s not like I don’t like Robin. I just think he’s just a bit scary you know?” He nods.

“ why do you not like red robin?” This lit a fire in his eyes.

“ where do I get started. First of all he is incompetent, he thinks he’s great but he’s very shit.”

“Reminds me of you”

“ do not compare us”

“ or what?” He just laughs and as he was about to answer. Dick kicks open the door and starts talking about how he convinced my mother to let me stay over. I mean He probably could convince anyone anything. If he came up to me one day and said that the joker was actually Batman I’d immediately believe him.

I agree to stay over. And as I turned around I heard the door slam shut again. Sounds like dick had left. Damian looks at me with a sincere look.

“I want to apologise. I panicked and in the heat of the moment I said things I didn’t mean. One. I’d be honoured if you are my soulmate. Two. I don’t think your mediocre at drawing.”

Can’t say I expected that. But I don’t think he expected though was for me to forgive him.

“ Damian. I really like you and I think we could definitely work out as soulmates. If you are willing to try?” He smiles. this is the first time I’ve ever seen them smile and we have been in class together for almost 3 years.

“ can I, can I kiss you?”

I nod and lean into the kiss. Before our lips could touch though. Loud gunshots rock through the building again.

“Dam Todd.”

“ so I take it that the Waynes aren’t a normal family?”

“Nope” Tim says falling out of the ceiling.

[reddrobins]

I have you [d.wayne]

Request: “you’re shaking” and “please let me help you” for Damian Wayne please 🤍

Summary: After a grocery trip gone wrong, reader meets her knight-in-shining-kevlar at the Gotham mini mart.

Warning: Attempted rape :/

No matter how much you did not want to go to the minimart on 3rd street, here you were. You searched through the aisles looking for the specific beverage your parents had requested. “(Y/N) go pick up some beer.” You mimicked your father saying. God, why couldn’t you just have a normal non-alcoholic father.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, you found your father's favourite brand, ‘Gotham Guzzlers’. Going to the checkout, you patiently waited online while you checked your phone.

Jesus, you thought to yourself, how could it already be 10 o’clock?

You could’ve sworn it was light out when you left your apartment but looking out of the large front windows, you could clearly see the night sky.

“Next!” the big burly man at the counter called.

You jumped, surprised at the sheer volume, and placed the six pack on the counter.

“That's eight dollars and 50 cents.” he gruffed out.

You frowned, “Hey, that was only six dollars last week.”

He gave you a sick smile, his teeth were crooked and yellow, “Prices change, sweetheart.”

You scrunch your nose at the nick-name, “Since when?” You asked, then, “Can we just call it even, I only have six bucks on me.”

The man, whose name tag reads Stuart, leans in close, allowing you to smell his reeking breath. “I can think of other ways you can make it up to me.”

You cringed and moved away from the counter, “Uh, haha I have to go. Sorry for the bother - enjoy your night.”

Quickly, you rushed over to the exit and pulled on the handle.

It didn’t budge.

Your eyes widened in panic, “Um, excuse me sir, Could you possibly unlock the door. I - I really need to get home now.”

The man, Stuart laughed and walked out from behind the counter, “What’s the matter, little girl?” He questioned.

This was not happening. You couldn’t believe it. A swarm of ‘why me?’ rang throughout your head.

Turning away from him, you swiftly walked to the back of the store, where you saw an emergency exit.

Just as you were about to open it, someone pushed the bar from the other side and you became face to face with another equally as burly man.

This is it you told yourself. This was how you were going to die. In a Gotham minimart of all places.

The two men were closing in on you as you froze, no place to turn to.

Stuart’s friend grabbed your arm, pulling you into him. You squired, trying your best to get out of the grip. To say you were panicking was an understatement, at this point you were anticipating death. You weren’t Batman, nevermind a good fighter. What’re gonna do, throw food at them?

A lightbulb went off in your head. Of course! You thought, making eye contact with the beer bottles. The only question was, How were you going to get over there, with Stuart closing in on you and this guy holding you back.

You felt his hand snake up to grab your neck and you thought fast. Ducking, you rolled out of his grip and away from the two men, running over to grab a bottle in self defense.

Stuart saw your attempt at protection and let out a loud sinister laugh, “What are you going to do sweetcheeks, drink us to death?” He asked sarcastically, “You’re not going anywhere. Not until we’re done with you.”

You took a bottle out of the pack and smashed it against the counter, breaking it in half. You pointed the dripping shard at the two assailants, “Back the fuckup.” you said shakily.

The two men looked at each other and laughed, then continued to stalk towards their prey.

Raising the broken bottle higher you glared at them both, tears stinging your eyes, “I’m serious!” You said, this time with less confidence.

The mystery man was the first one to reach you, ripping the bottle from your hand. You screamed as he spun you around, smashing your face into the counter.

Struggling, you kicked your legs, trying to kick at least one of the men. To no avail, all of your kicks missed, and you felt hands move to your waist.

“No,” You cried, “No please, I’ll do anything just please don't.”

The two men didn’t listen and kept holding you down. Your sobs grew louder as you heard a zipper. Stuart's hands went to the front of your jeans, tugging at them to come off. You cried more.

“Robin, I’m getting intel that there's been a new missing persons report down on 3rd street. Last seen at the minimart. I need you to check it out.”

Damian grumbled, this was the nth time this week tha Bruce gave him some mediocre task, though he knew he could handle so much more.

“I’m not a child anymore, Batman, I can handle the larger cases.”

Bruce knew this, he trusted Damians growth, he was now 17 after all. “I know Robin, that’s why I’m sending you to do this.”

Grumbling, Damian begrudgingly asked for the coordinates of the minimart. After Oracle messages them over, he ran into the night.

“Now this is where it gets fun. Isn’t that right Mark?” Stuart said as he began to take his jeans off.

The mystery man, who you now knew to call Mark, laughed in agreement, pushing your head into the counter harder.

You squirmed more, screaming and crying for any type of help you could get.

Hands came up to your hips and you felt something small press into your lower back.

You laid still, too emotionally drained to fight back. Awaiting the intrusion, you continued to cry.

Only, it never came.

Shattering glass exploded throughout the store, shocking Mark and Stuart off of you.

You crumbled to the ground, tugging back on your jeans, shaking as you rocked yourself back and forth, trying to sooth the trauma.

As you had your head in your knees, an onslaught of punches and groans were heard. And then silence.

You felt a hand on your knee and you scored away. Oh god they’re back.

“Are you alright?”

This was a different voice, one that wasn’t gruff or sinister or loud. No, this one was assertive, caring and exactly what you needed in this time of crisis.

Your tearing eyes peaked up from your knees. There before you crouched the boy wonder, Robin, in all his glory.

Damian almost gasped when he met your eyes. He knew you.

You were his partner from last year's school History project. The two of you had gotten a hundred on it. He hasn't talked to you much since, but always made sure you were alright, if anything he had grown a small crush on you over the months you spent working together. Though he was often perceived cold by his brothers, his heart ached at the sight of you.

“You’re shaking.” He said. You knew you were, I mean how could you not be after that encounter.

Damian unclasped his cape from his uniform and draped it over your shoulder, though you shuffled away from him. “Please let me help you.” He said, almost desperately.

You shook your head no and backed yourself further into the counter.

The young Wayne sighed, but obliged with your reluctance and put his cape back on. “What can I do for you right now?”

You shook your head, mumbling ‘nothing’ and put your head back down.

The vigilante's heart was sore at the sight, god, how bad he wanted to help you. “(Y/N), I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to help you be okay.”

Your ears perked at the mention of your name. How did Robin know your name?

“How did you know my name?” You whispered, moving your head up slightly.

Damian's face turned a rosy-red. How could you be so stupid? He scolded himself.

He contemplated what to do next. Clearly you were still in distress, not even he could help you out. Sighing in defeat, Damian took off his domino mask.

Your eyes widened, “Damian?” you asked.  You wanted to ask how, question why Damian stood before you in the Robin costume, but that was for another day. All you could focus on right now were the charming green eyes staring down at you

The teen nodded, “It’s me (Y/N). I’m here to help you. Will you allow me to be of assistance. I promise I will keep you safe.” He said, stretching out a hand towards yours.

Slowly, you placed your palm in his and he helped you up, taking you away from the nightmare that has just happened.

And just like that, you were safe, Damian had you.

[galahadwilder]

Hey! I'm following you for ML stuff, but I finally figured out you were into Batman as well, took me awhile. Do you have any advice on where to start for people who want to get into it? I just want to know which Robin is which when I read fanfiction hahaha. Thank youu

So the first thing to know is that there is no single Batman comic that will explain the entire Batfamily, because there are so many of them that the Manor must be running out of bedrooms by now. The second thing is that I’m not great at figuring out a starting place—a lot of comics are sort of aggressively mediocre and I can’t exactly tell the standout ones from the bad. Anyone who has any suggestions for anon, feel free to comment with them!

(In terms of fanfic recs: read literally anything by @unpretty. They are a wizard. Their fanfic is so good it has literally won awards.)

Now, a brief introduction to every member of the Batfamily that I can currently remember—save Alfred and Batman, who I am assuming you already know.

The Robins

Dick Grayson (Robin I, Nightwing II, and Batman IV). Richard John Grayson was a former child acrobat, member of the flying Graysons, and the first child adopted by Bruce Wayne. He is a human disaster of a Hufflepuff who makes terrible life choices, leaves his Nightwing costume on the floor of his apartment where literally anyone can see it, and doesn’t know how to cook anything but cereal. Despite his terrible lack of self-sufficiency, actually gives amazing life advice and is the heart and soul of the Batclan. There are villains who are willing to kill to protect him.

Jason Todd (Robin II, The Red Hood II, Red Robin I, Batman III). Jason Todd is the ballsiest Robin, having met Batman while attempting to steal the tire from the Batmobile, and, upon being confronted by the Goddamn Batman, decided the best course of action was to attack him with a tire iron. Jason is passionate and impulsive, but also extremely studious and intelligent. Well-liked despite his abrasiveness. He is the first Robin to die in the line of duty; when he came back, he and Bruce had a falling out over not killing the Joker, and now their relationship is rather shaky. Jason uses guns and has moonlighted as a crime boss in order to better control Gotham’s criminal element from the inside, which works mostly because he has nerves of steel and the ability to spin stunningly convincing bullshit at the drop of a hat.

Carrie Kelley (Robin II.5): See “Elseworlds and Future.”

Tim Drake (Robin III, Red Robin II, Drake I, Batman Beyond II): Tim has the greatest intellect of the Batclan; however, unlike Barbara (see “Batgirls”), Tim’s wisdom score is through the bloody floor. He figured out Batman and Robin’s identities on his own, and after Jason died he walked up to Bruce and basically told him “I know who you are and I’m Robin now,” which... worked. Tim is the least physically gifted of the Robins, but he makes up for it in detective skills and tactical intelligence. He was the only Robin to still have living parents outside of the Batfamily, though they were murdered soon into his career. He dropped out of high school and was acting CEO of Wayne Enterprises for a time. He has crippling depression and is implied to be suicidal.

Stephanie Brown (Spoiler I, Robin IV, Batgirl III): see under “Batgirls.”

Damian Wayne (Robin V): Damian is the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, and was raised—unbeknownst to his father—by his mother and grandfather to be an assassin, as well as to be the best at literally everything (for context: despite being a young teenager, he technically holds multiple unaccredited PHDs). However, this stunted his social development, so he is rude and abrasive almost constantly, though he has been getting better and his closest friends and family can see that he’s covering for a superiority/inferiority complex a mile deep. Damian has a constant need to prove himself and has taken up his father’s adoption habit, though he prefers animals. Animals are better than people.

Duke Thomas (Robin ??, The Signal): Duke Thomas was the first metahuman Bruce allowed into the Batfamily. Originally decided to take on The Riddler by himself at the age of... seven or so? Eventually joined a collective called “We Are Robin” and fought crime, unsanctioned. After his parents were driven mad by Joker Venom, Bruce took him in. He now fights crime in the daytime, unlike the rest of the Batfamily, using his nebulously-defined extrasensory abilities to augment his Batfamily training.

The Batgirls

Barbara Gordon (Batgirl I, Oracle I): while Tim may be the most intelligent member of the Batclan, Babs is the all-around smartest. Her intellect is damned high, and unlike most of the Batfamily, Barbara is actually capable of making good decisions. She just... decides not to, most of the time. Barbara is the daughter of Commissioner James Gordon and was the first Batgirl; she lost the use of her legs when Joker shot her in the spine, but refused to take a backseat in the Batclan’s war on crime and became Oracle, hacker extraordinaire who directs the activities of every single vigilante in Gotham from her clocktower lair. She has since regained the use of her legs and reclaimed the Batgirl mantle, turning Oracle into a living AI.

Helena Wayne (Batgirl I.5, Huntress I): see “Elseworlds and Future.”

Cassandra Cain/Wayne (Batgirl II, Black Bat I, Orphan I): Cassandra is the daughter of assassins Lady Shiva and David Cain, and had what is hands-down the worst childhood of the entire Batfamily (her father would shoot her in the leg, and if she flinched, he’d shoot her again). She was raised without spoken words, and as a result the language centers of her brain are more adapted for body language than words. This gives her a kind of combat clairvoyance where it’s nearly impossible for a human combatant to surprise her. After her first murder, she swore to never again take a life, and joined the Batclan to atone. I personally believe that she is Bruce’s favorite child and the true heir to the mantle of the Bat.

Stephanie Brown (Spoiler I, Robin IV, Batgirl III): the daughter of Arthur Brown, a criminal known as Cluemaster, Stephanie became a vigilante specifically to oppose her father and then just had a bunch of mission creep. She is brash, sarcastic, and reckless, but has oodles of passion and natural talent. DC editors hate her, so she ends up screwing up or getting pushed aside a lot, but she is much more competent than she appears and is extremely good at getting people to underestimate her.

Others

Kate Kane (Batwoman I): Kate Kane is Bruce’s cousin, dishonorably discharged from the military under “dont ask don’t tell,” though this has likely been retconned thanks to DC’s sliding timescale. She is actually specifically not connected to the Batfamily, being more of an auxiliary member by her own choice—as a military woman, she dislikes their methods and considers them sloppy. She uses guns, has her own rogues’ gallery unconnected to her cousin’s, and is extremely competent.

Jean-Paul Valley (Azrael I, Batman II): Jean-Paul believed himself to be an ordinary college student, but was in fact a genetically modified super-soldier created to punish the wicked through the use of magic and advanced technology. He eventually broke his conditioning thanks to Batman and joined the family, even taking over for Batman briefly after Bane broke his back. (This proved to be a terrible decision.) He fights using powered armor and enchanted medieval weaponry.

Harper Row (Bluebird I): I know very little about Harper except that she is openly bisexual and uses hilariously oversized sci-fi guns.

Claire Clover (Gotham Girl I): a metahuman with Superman-like abilities; however, the more she uses them, the faster her lifespan burns away. Last I checked, she was working with Bane for some reason to do bad things to Batman. Don’t know why. She’s odd.

Lonnie Machin (Anarky I, Moneyspider I): may or may not be the son of The Joker. Lonnie is a genius Anarchist, but not of the “bomb-throwing” variety—in fact, he detests bombers. Briefly acted as Tim’s Oracle, since, thanks to extensive neurological self-modification, he’s one of the few people in Gotham who is actually more intelligent than Tim is.

Helena Bertinelli (Huntress II, Batgirl briefly I think?): daughter of a crime family that got wiped out by a rival crime family. However, she didn’t know her family was mafia, and as a vigilante in Gotham ended up trying to operate under Batman’s rules. Wasn’t very good at that—she’s a bit too vicious and brutal, despite her attempts to rein herself in. Uses crossbows primarily.

Elseworlds & Future

Terry McGinnis (Batman Beyond I): the definitive future Batman. Thanks to Amanda Waller and superscience shenanigans, Terry is the biological son of Bruce Wayne. He wears a highly advanced batsuit that is closer to powered armor than a costume, which gives Iron Man a run for his money. Unlike Bruce’s obsessive preparedness, Terry’s skillset lies in improvisation.

Carrie Kelley (Robin II.5): the Robin of the dystopian timeline of The Dark Knight Returns. It’s been a while since I read DKR, so I don’t remember much about her.

Helena Wayne (Batgirl I.5, Huntress I): Bruce and Selina’s daughter from another dimension.

[robertdowneyjjr]

thoughts on endgame

if you haven’t seen endgame yet please turn away now because this is full of spoilers.

seriously spoiler nation here. turn back now while you still have the chance.

are you still here?

okay then.

here i go.

it’s gonna get long.

it’s been about seven hours since i got out of the movie theatre and overall? i’m upset. and i’m fucking pissed.

also, if you don’t know this by now, i’m a tony stan. my thoughts are biased. sue me.

listen. it’s not an awful movie. overall it’s an okay film. the shots were beautiful. the actors were all excellent. there was lots of fan service and there were tons of moments where it felt really fun. we laughed. we cried. we cheered. but as much as the filmmakers would like to insist that the film is satisfying, i just don’t agree, mainly because of how they decided to end the story.

the good and the mediocre

to start off, rdj’s acting is great. of course it is. it’s rdj. he did amazing with what he had to work with and most of my crying was because of him.

tony and nebula on the ship was great. he was already so fatherly with her, teaching her how to play paper football and encouraging her. and she was looking after him too. there was so much mutual care there that i loved, and i wish that we got more interaction between the two of them throughout the movie.

that little tear he shed when he closed his eyes to go to sleep on the benatar after recording his message for pepper killed me.

when joe russo said that the film was cathartic and evans said that it’s satisfying i can only apply these words to the one scene where tony finally gets to have his outburst and tell the others off for not believing him when he said a threat was coming. he deserved that moment. his anger was completely justified. and when he called steve out specifically, saying that he said that they’d lose together but they ended up not even doing that? when he called steve a liar? that was cathartic.

nat talking about how she used to have nothing and then she got this job, got this family. when she was crying over clint and what he was doing as ronin. that hurt.

MORGAN STARK. oh my god she is a cutie and all of her interactions with tony are just the best. this is the most valid part of the entire movie and that’s that on that. tony is so soft with her and it’s clear just how much he loves her and cherishes the family that he’s managed to have despite the tragedy that happened five years ago. this relationship is perfect and instead of the rest of the movie we should have just gotten three hours of tony and morgan’s father/daughter shenanigans.

tony being domestic and doing the dishes is all i ever wanted

doctor hulk was an interesting concept and i’m glad that bruce finally managed to find a balance between bruce and hulk and melded the two together. but there were times i do feel like he was played off as a joke too much.

the stevetony content is okay, i guess. i honestly wish we got more between steve and tony settling their differences beyond tony just handing the shield back and letting steve know that he figured out the issue with time travel that they’d been having. i wish we had more of them talking and working out their differences from the past. it jumped from tony telling steve that the trust is gone to him asking steve if he trusts him a little too soon without anything ever being discussed.

like really for a film that was marketed to basically be a stevetony event it didn’t really end up with that many interactions between them so it was disappointing.

i love that in the five years since the snap the remaining heroes managed to become friends. nebula and rhodey is an especially great one. and carol and rhodey’s brief interaction at the start of the film got my carolrhodey heart fluttering.

i do like the team interactions we got, even though there weren’t as many as i expected. it does feel like they’re finally seeing each other as a team again for the first time since the party scene in aou. i especially liked when they were working together to figure out when to travel back to in order to find the infinity stones, and that scene with tony, nat, and bruce together on the conference table. i wish we got more of the tony and nat friendship throughout the mcu.

the entire travel back to 2012 new york sequence was a trip. getting to see these characters interacting for the first time again was great. to see the aftermath of the battle was fun -- how they all got drinks from tony’s bar together. they seemed immediately comfortable with each other which was nice. all of them getting into the elevator together but telling the hulk to take the stairs. and speaking of hulk, bruce pretending to be 2012!hulk and smashing things halfheartedly was kinda hilarious.

the blatant ogling of steve’s ass. oh, sorry. america’s ass. that was great. thank you for servicing the stevetony shippers. and steve’s own comment about it after he got in a fistfight with his past self was funny too.

the excessive use of the word “shit” was a great callback to aou and i enjoyed it immensely.

mark 85 is sleek af and i love a shiny gold thotty boy

the cap scenes in 2012 were nice fan service. steve getting into that elevator with the strike team -- everyone thought it was going to be a reenactment of the scene from tws. but the fact that steve said “hail hydra” instead to throw them off was genius. he looked so proud of himself for that.

i like the rhodey and nebula team up. their dynamic is really great and rhodey has some of the best lines in the movie tbh. i love him.

i’m iffy on this but i don’t like that they validated howard stark’s shitty parenting. call him abusive and leave it at that. sure, he admitted that he didn’t want to turn out like his dad, but uhh i guess he did because look how his relationship with tony turned out. but i mean i’m happy for tony that he sort of got the closure he needed?? idk. i’m not sure about this.

it was really touching getting to see thor be able to talk to his mother again. i love frigga.

tony’s version of the gauntlet is fucking badass. it’s ten times sleeker than thanos’ gauntlet and just cool as hell. and dude! think about it. thanos had to travel to nidavellir to get a gauntlet made that could harness the power of the infinity stones. tony didn’t need to do that. he made his own gauntlet with his own tech and he didn’t need to go to any other planet for that. i love one genius.

steve wielding mjolnir was amazing in that moment. it was super cool, you know. he seemed so natural with it and he was even able to call lightning with it. awesome! but once we got to the ending i was like 😒 was he really that worthy. i’m really salty, okay.

the scene when all the undusted come back, and the other heroes scattered around the world join in, and they appear at the compound for that final battle -- it was incredible and very moving. thanos thought he was gonna win but nah!!! avengers assemble!! dope.

RESCUE. we waited so long and finally we were fed.

peter and tony’s hug got me bawling like a baby. i’m so distraught.

that scene with carol coming in and getting the gauntlet from peter, and all the women coming together and saying, “she has help”?? i nutted. that was amazing.

the bad and the ugly

THE SUPREME LACK OF TONY AND RHODEY CONTENT, WHAT THE FUCK. when they landed back on earth and rhodey didn’t get a chance to hug tony...hm. did not like that! let these best friends hug, ffs. and why didn’t we get to see rhodey interacting with morgan?? this is fake as hell.

it was kinda shitty that steve and co. had to show up right when tony was having a good time with his daughter to deliver the news about the quantum tunnel and time travel to tony. because of course tony would never sit idly by when there’s a problem he can solve. especially not when he’s reminded that he lost peter in that awful decimation five years ago. it’s not in his nature to not help. so that’s what he does. he solves a problem and he goes to suit up again because he would never forgive himself if he didn’t even try.

thor......they really turned him into a depressed alcoholic that’s just playing fortnite at home instead of a ruler looking after himself and the people he was supposed to protect.....they really just erased all his development from ragnarok huh. i’m mad.

also, a lack of tony and bruce interaction?? where are my science bro moments?? they were supposed to be the two biggest brains of the team working on mechanics of time travel but we really couldn’t have seen even a brief montage of them working together to science things out? wow fake!

also now that i think about it, where were dum-e and u?? where???? where were the best bots in the world?????

idk why clint and nat were the ones to go to vormir. definitely was not expecting this at all, but fuck. okay. this is where the anger really starts. okay. i get it. i get that nat sacrificed herself so that clint would have the chance to reunite with his family after this shitshow was all over. but nat had family too. she said it herself. she found her family with the avengers. but they really decided to throw another woman off the cliff to fuel more man pain. great! just great!!

seriously, nat deserved better.

they really. they really fucking killed off tony. they really did that and they had tony sacrifice himself. and all for what? shock factor? it wasn’t necessary. they didn’t need to kill him to end his arc. he could have been permanently injured instead, to the point where he wouldn’t be able to suit up again. he would have happily accepted this as his last mission. his priority was always to get home to his wife and daughter. despite the trauma he went through over the last ten years, the ptsd he came away with after sending a nuke through a wormhole, his team’s falling out, watching his best friend fall from the sky, being betrayed by someone he thought was a friend, getting stabbed by his own weapon on an alien planet, and losing a kid that he treated like his own, he managed to find a sliver of happiness with pepper and morgan. he had a happy ending. the happy ending he had wanted for the last several years. but the filmmakers took that away from him. they took away his happiness, and not just that. they took away a woman’s husband. they took away a little girl’s father. it was unnecessarily cruel and it sends a shitty message. it’s a disservice to tony, a disservice to the iron family, and a disservice to the fans that have stuck with the mcu from the very beginning, when iron man first came out and we decided to hop on for the ride.

tony deserved better.

also, rhodey should have been able to say something to tony before he drifted off for the last time. i was glad that he was the first to find tony, but they should have had their moment. this man had been with tony through thick and thin and he deserved to say his proper goodbyes.

or at the very least, they should have had a moment during tony’s funeral where the important people delivered their eulogies and spoke the words that needed to be said about tony. an explicit acknowledgement from the characters about how much tony had done, how integral he was to their success and survival, and how he made the ultimate sacrifice to get rid of their biggest threat so that the world could be put back together.

the only consolation i get from this is that tony made that sacrifice and died on the battlefield where the rest of the team could see. that the undusted and the living both are aware of how selfless tony is (and has always been), and he gave up his happy ending to make sure that the rest of them got theirs.

well his “i am iron man” was badass too so i’m glad he got to go out with that.

TONY DESERVED BETTER.

MORGAN DESERVED BETTER.

IRON FAMILY DESERVED BETTER.

(cheeseburgers broke me)

speaking of happy endings, lmfao what the fuck @ steve? i’m pissed at this ending. that was honestly the most selfish thing that steve could have done, all because the russos have always had a permanent boner for steve’s story with peggy. it’s just so sad. they won’t let him move on. his character development is stifled. it’s so backwards. peggy had a family and lived a full life without steve, but after seeing her for thirty seconds while he was in the past, he really decided that he needed to go back and spend the rest of his life with her. he threw away everything he worked for in the present -- his teammates, an unfrozen and recovered bucky, his running buddy and overall great guy sam -- for a relationship with a woman that he shared one single kiss with and that he knew for, what, like two or three years? jesus. let him move on! let him find happiness in the present! he never gave love another chance just because he thought he thought he met the love of his life 70 years ago. who’s to say he wouldn’t have found love in the present, huh??

they did him dirty. they did peggy dirty. and tbh they did sharon dirty from the very beginning. but that’s salt for another day.

so here we have tony, dead at 53 who really only experienced true happiness for five years with the woman he had been in love with for over a decade. then we have steve, who was on this earth for 105 years, then went back in time and got another 40 or so odd years of happiness with a woman he had only known for a few short years.

sure. that sounds fair. totally fair.

fuck no, it’s not. it’s a terrible fucking ending.

that’s just shit storytelling and if this was done all for the shock factor to make sure that we couldn’t guess what happens to these characters then it was a poor decision and it completely ruins tony and steve’s story arcs.

what kind of shit ending is this.

i didn’t like it.

[northsideblaine-archive-blog]

HOLY SHIT IS THAT [ DARREN CRISS ]?! Oh, wait it’s just [ BLAINE ANDERSON ]. Damn, [ HE ] looks good for [ 18 ], good thing that they’re [ GAY ], I might have a chance. I hear that they call them the [ PRETENDER/HOPELESS ROMANTIC ] of the [ SOUTHSIDE/NORTHSIDE ]. I guess that’s because they’re [ BRAVE ] and [ KIND-HEARTED ]. But I don’t think a lot of people know that they’re also [ INSECURE ] and [ DISHONEST ]. Can’t wait to see what kind of trouble [  M/25+/PST ] will bring.

01.  BASICS

Full Name: Blaine Devon Anderson

Nickname: b, bee, bumblee, banderson, b-man, shrimp, hobbit

Sex/Gender: Cismale

Birthday: February 14th

Age: 18

Astrological Sign: Pisces

Occupation: Part-Time music teaching assistant (basically just plays the piano and organizes the sheet music for Riverdale’s choir/band)

Spoken Languages: English, High School Spanish, self-taught conversational Tagalong

Sexual Orientation: Homosexual

Romantic Orientation: Panromantic

Birthplace: Southside Riverdale

Relationship status: Single

02. PHYSICAL TRAITS

Hair Color/Style: Dark brown, well gelled down to tame unruly curls.

Eye Color: Hazel

Face Claim: Darren Criss 

Height:  5′6

Weight: 152lbs

Tattoos: None

Piercings: A secret serpent tattoo that matches his Dare’s, he got long before transferring to Riverdale high and long before he expected to assimilate into the Northside. It’s always covered.

Unique Attributes: back dimples,

Defining Gestures/Movements: Very expressive face, enthusiastic hands. prone to jumping on tables/furniture when excited.

Posture: Generally very proper and upright as though he’s afraid one slouch might give away the fact that he doesn’t belong.

03. PERSONALITY TRAITS

Pet Peeves: Ignorance and people who are rude or cruel just for the sake of being edgy. Having to go to the Southside for any reason.

Hobbies/Interests: Music, acting, cooking and watching movies.

Special Skills/Abilities: taught by Darius to play various instruments, including violin, guitar, and piano. Singing and dancing, though his moves are often outdated.

Likes: Classic music and movies. Football, singing, cooking, a good cup of coffee, pasta, the scent of rain, autumn, the leaves changing colors, clouds. strawberries (though he hasn’t had one in over a decade due to Dare’s allergy), raspberry/cinnamon/warm vanilla scents. people who are kind especially people who are kind for no reason.

Dislikes: the smell of cigarettes or beer. seeing anyone he knows from the trailer park. his dad. his own hypocrisy.

Insecurities: Never truly fitting into the Northside or winning his mother’s approval. Being irrelevant or mediocre. People knowing he’s from the Southside.

Quirks/Eccentricities: very bad at flirting. get flustered easily.

Strengths: Kind. He’s always kind. Imaginative. Selfless and willing to do anything for a friend. Encouraging.

Weaknesses: Always looking so hard at the good in a person that he misses the knife. Falls in love with strangers 100 times a day. Unsure of who he is. People pleaser.

Speaking Style: Soft-spoken and rarely raised his voice in anger. 

Temperament: Up-lifting and encouraging as though he’s afraid to upset anyone for any reason.

04. FAMILY & HOME

Immediate Family: Bruce Anderson [ father ], Pam [ mother ], Darius Anderson [ twin brother ]

How do they feel about their family? Nothing but dislike for his father -- due to his dad’s alcoholism, abuse and homophobia. Admiration and desperation for acknowledgment from his mother since she left him as a child. Mixed feelings for his brother because they used to be so close. When they were younger, Blaine looked up to Darius and felt safe/secure/protected by him, would have done anything for Dare but as they got older Blaine became more insecure being compared to his twin and that grew into mild resentment and guilt.

How does their family feel about them? His father was never a loving man or particularly parental but his anger got much worse after Blaine came out in junior high. He doesn’t have many memories of his mother, so most of how kind and loving she was is something Blaine built up in his head. Darius has always been very protective over Blaine and always the person who was on his side. He was always encouraging, though often stoic, he became the main caregiver in Blaine’s life.

Pets: None.

Where do they live? A very small apartment on the Northside, close enough to walk to work.

Description of their home: Just a step above a studio apartment, Blaine furnished most of his place by visiting yard sales and the second-hand store, trying to pass it off as a hipster/DIY style choice but it’s still a step up from the trailer he used to live in on the Southside.

Description of their bedroom: A platform bed sitting on up-cycled wooden pallets that he painted. A vanity that he repurposed into a desk and decor that he made himself by getting great deals on fabric or odds and ends.

05. THIS OR THAT

Introvert or Extrovert?

Optimist or Pessimist?

Leader or Follower?

Confident or Self-Conscious?

Cautious or Careless?

Religious or Secular?

Passionate or Apathetic?

Book Smarts or Street Smarts?

Compliments or Insults?

Pajamas or Lingerie?

06. FAVORITES

Favorite Color: pale yellow and powder blue

Favorite Clothing Style/Outfit: Blaine took a lot of his style inspiration from the 50′s. He likes things to be form-fitting and cheerful. The bolder and brighter, the better.

Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: Being a music lover, it’s hard for him to pick a single favorite. Generally, anything that speaks to his soul, emotions, and heart tend to make their way into his libraries/playlists.

Favorite Movies: Classic generally but also a sucker for a Nicolas Sparks film or a good romance. Anything as long as it isn’t a horror film.

Favorite Books: Old detective books from the 20′s/30′s. 

Favorite Foods/Drinks: Pasta, always pasta. Loves food in general, especially sweets and coffee.

Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: The Patriots.

Favorite Time of Day: the moment just as the sun is rising.

Favorite Weather/Season: chilly or rainy Autumn days

Favorite Animal: Dogs

07. MISCELLANEOUS

Fears/Superstitions: not wildly fond of bugs, especially spiders.

Political Views: Liberal

Addictions: Does hair gel count? Maybe coffee. Useless before coffee. Also self-sabotage.

Best School Subject: Music and English. But was good at every subject.

Worst School Subject: Didn’t have any subject he was particularly bad at.

School Clubs/Sports: All of them. Literally belonged to every club he could join.

How does he get money? Works as a teaching assistant which sort of pays the bills. He’s also sent money from his brother every month but promptly returns it every time.

How is he with technology? semi-decent. Not a tech genius but good enough to figure things out.

08. PAST & FUTURE

Fondest Memory: The Christmas that Dare brought home a tree and presents to surprise Blaine.

Deepest, Darkest Secret: He’s not nearly as perfect, innocent or put-together as he pretends to be. Blaine puts on a front of wanting to wait for the perfect partner or holding out for his soulmate but he has gone into the woods under the guise of running the trail but it was really to hook up with strangers.

Dream Vacation: Somewhere in the Italian countryside or anywhere outside of Riverdale to be honest.

Best thing that has ever happened to this character: Being born a twin.

Worst thing that has ever happened to this character: His mother leaving. In the 8th grade after Blaine came out, some Ghoulies started targeting him, bullying and eventually ganging up on him in the locker room.

What do they want to be when they grow up? Someone and something important.

Perfect Date: Staying up all night talking and effortlessly getting to really know each other deeper.

[stellaseas]

Gather round, and I’ll tell y’all the tale of my very first try at a comic-fic (the one that finally got me to break out of anime, yes there was a time when I couldn’t imagine writing fanfiction (or writing at all, really) for anything but anime). It was a Damian Wayne fic. I never finished, never even posted the first chapter because about three weeks into writing (all on paper), I walked into a theater with my roommate to celebrate graduating and we saw Thor. And...yeah, everything else I was working on pretty much went out the window when I saw Loki in that suit.

But! Before I became a Marvel or die girl, I was obsessed with the Bat Family. Not the one now, I haven’t even kept up with it. Actually, the “new 52” had a lot to do with my DC abandonment as much as the MCU did. I was all about cutie Tim Drake and his cute relationship with Lucius Fox’s daughter. But I was even more into Dick “Batman” Grayson and Damian “Robin” Wayne and their relationship as they navigated Bruce’s “death” and formed a family unit. When that all changed, I was out. But before it all, I started on a pretty good fic in my opinion (for the novice that I was) and it’s been on my mind the past few days...all because youtube suggested a batman beyond clip to me...yeah that’s all it takes for me to plunge headfirst down the rabbit hole. So to save myself...I’m just spewing it out here so I can get it out of my system and move on to you know...my v.e.r.y. Neglected wips.

I definitely messed with canon-timeline related things (something I never do now), a aged Damian up cause...yeah it felt weird writing an OC fic with a kid...obviously. And I’m sure there’s some slight OOC bits on the part of the big bat and Talia but...hey, it was fun.

Description under the cut...cause boy did this turn into a ramble.

Before his disappearance, Bruce Wayne had floated the idea of enrolling Damien in the prestigious Gotham Preparatory once he was of age. To Damien’s dismay, both his mother and Dick agree that it would best in Bruce’s absence; not only to keep up appearances but to offer him some semblance of a normal childhood, if only for a little while. More than a little reluctant, Damien begrudgingly accepts only after Dick threatens to permanently ground Robin. The young Wayne, now 16, is certain that it will be nothing but a dredging waste of his time.  He’s surprised to find the ancient halls are fraught with tension and backstabbing, as the students, each one of them a product of Gotham’s infamous (and man corrupt) elite, vie for academic and social bragging rights using every trick they have buried in their well-resourced arsenals., But amongst the grimy sea of cutthroat heirs who live and die by their parents ambitions, there is a small crop of scholarship students who keep to themselves in order to survive through each year. One of these students is Molly Mackenzie, a student in many of Damien’s classes. Although she seems a gentle soul on the surface, she hides dangerous secrets.

Though she dreams of being an artist, and fights to make time to study and practice, she’s constantly distracted by her father’s failings. Once a mediocre fixer for the mob, he’s fallen onto hard times. Molly and her older sister, Christine, try to make due, but the debts their father has amassed are great and while both of them work, they know there is no way to keep on top of it all. Desperate, Molly turned to Elijah Cain, a fellow student and son of the very mob boss that holds her father’s debts. Before Damien’s arrival to the school, she struck a deal with the crime lord in training without her family’s knowledge and a complicated, heady alliance exists between them. Things begin to change however, when Damien catches on to her suspicious doings and discovers another similarity he bears to that of his missing father: a fondness for troubled, cunning women.