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k1ranishf4 · 2 months ago

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☆ Ink and Instinct ☆

☆ Jason Todd x Female Reader

☆ His muscles were screaming, his bones aching and he wanted nothing more than to collapse in bed—or to end up in a coma, preferably. Tasteless joke, he knew, considering that he had literally died and came back, but oh well. None of that mattered when he saw his fiancée, though. Or rather, when he saw the pretty black ink on her radiant skin, right where her womb was.

☆ Content tags/warnings: 18+ content, engaged couple, explicit language, horny Jason Todd, explicit content, soft smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, NSFW, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl (1x), my love), praise, reassurance, reader got a womb tattoo without his knowledge, information broker!reader, shameless Jason Todd, newfound breeding kink and its consequences (don’t worry, no pregnancy in this), Jason’s thinking with his dick, momentarily shy reader, ticklish reader, humorous and sweet atmosphere, no beta we die like everyone in DC at some point

The fire escape groaned beneath his boots as he landed on the creaky metal, right in front of your shared bedroom window. It became a routine for him to enter the apartment through the window after patrolling, considering that the front door would raise too much attention to him. No one was supposed to know who the Red Hood was nor where he lived, thank you very much. He checked his surroundings again, like he always did, and then slid the window open to climb inside.

Patrol had been complete bullshit, in his opinion. Chasing down an amateur thief who ended up knocking himself out by running into a brick wall because he had looked back at Jason, disrupting a drug deal by the docks, gunning down Penguin's goons after one of them had spotted him—he was tired. And sore. He didn't even know anymore if the dried drops of blood on his jacket were his or someone else's.

He wanted nothing more than to get rid of his clothes, take a shower and melt next to you in bed. You, his perfect, smart fiancée who entered his life as the best information broker of Gotham's underworld. He sometimes still had moments of realization that, yes, he was, in fact, going to marry you. His heart felt way too heavy with love.

Jason thought you might be asleep by now, cuddled up in the warm sheets and sprawled out over his side of the bed again, despite your insistence that you always stayed on yours. He never asked you to wait up for him and you were out like a light by eleven o'clock sharp most of the time, so it was a surprise to see you still awake, music filling the air from the loudspeaker at a volume that wouldn't disturb your neighbors.

He closed the window gently, not wanting to announce his presence just yet. You were oblivious that he was even there, in the middle of changing. He leaned back against the windowsill and crossed his arms as he watched you, still in his whole Red Hood getup. Sure, okay, it might have been creepy of him to watch you change, but he didn't really see how anyone could blame him.

To him, you were the hottest, most sexiest woman in all of Gotham, hell, in the whole world. Smart, witty, beautiful, and so kind, he could die again and be much happier in his grave this time around. His gaze raked over you behind his helmet's white lenses, taking in every inch of skin you were showing as you stood there in nothing but black lace panties, pulling a shirt over your head and humming along to your favorite song playing in the background.

He smirked with amusement when you turned and yelped, jumping like a scared cat.

"Jason!" You threw the nearest object—an empty deodorant bottle that he didn't know why you still kept—at him and missed, the aluminium bottle clattering on the hardwood floor. "Don't just stand there, asshole, you scared me!"

He smiled at your indignant tone and looked you up and down again. "Calm down, baby. You know it's me," he mused smugly, his voice changed by the voice modulator. He didn't even make a move to take his helmet off or to put his guns inside the safe in the closet, still leaning against the wall.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You asked with a huff, walking past him to pick the empty deodorant bottle up and putting it back on a shelf instead of just throwing it away, then pausing the music. "Watching me like some creep, instead... Idiot."

But he wasn't listening. His gaze was on your stomach, which was hidden by the shirt again. He could swear that he had seen something there. He watched you reach up to the shelf inside the closet, his eyes still on your stomach while you rummaged through your clothes. For what, he didn't know, nor did he care, because now he could see it clearly.

"Lift your shirt," he said without any kind of context, not even looking at you. His arms were still crossed, but he felt tenser.

"Huh?"

He met your gaze, white lenses meeting hypnotizing but confused eyes.

"Your shirt," he repeated, still making no move to get out of his grimy clothes. "Lift it up."

He kept watching you as you looked at him with confusion for another moment before grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it up to your stomach.

His breath caught in his throat.

"I was gonna show you eventually," you started rambling, but he wasn't even hearing the words. "I thought it'd be cool, I guess, and I was waiting for it to heal properly, but then you became busier and—"

He called your name softly, so soft it could as well have been deadly. His head slowly lifted, looking into your eyes again. "When did you get it?"

The 'it' in question being a womb tattoo just above the waistband of your panties, a tattoo of his name. Cursive, elegant, the J underlining the rest of the letters and dipping beneath your panties.

He felt his heart race, his head tilting when you didn't answer. "Baby, when did you get that?" He asked again. Exhaustion who? He was more concerned about not jumping your bones right then and there.

Jason slowly got closer to you, gloved hand gently tilting your head up. "Don't be shy now, pretty girl. I just wanna know when you got it without me ever realizing," he reassured.

His thumb gently rubbed circles on your jaw, silently encouraging you not to get all shy on him now. "A few months ago," you mumbled. "Three, I think."

He paused. Months? Months of his name engraved on your skin, on your womb, and he was only seeing it now?

Taking a deep breath, he finally reached up to get rid of his helmet, tossing it on the bed carelessly. His eyes were dark, once emerald now appearing black. "You got my name tattooed right above your pussy and never told me?"

"Don't say it like that!" You slapped his chest, but he only smirked. His pretty fiancée, flustered about a tattoo she had gotten on her own volition.

"It's the truth, no? Fuck, baby." His hands went to your waist, his pants painfully tight. "C'mon. Let's get rid of this, hm?" He lightly tugged at your shirt.

"You haven't even put your guns away—"

"I know." He looked into your eyes. "I'll do that as soon as you're out of this shirt. Promise."

"Jason..." He could hear that you didn't believe him. Which was fair, considering that all of his thoughts were on you. Your body. That tattoo.

He felt dizzy from simply remembering that it was his name. His name. On your perfect body.

How would it look like if you were pregnant?

The thought made Jason pause.

Neither of you had ever brought up the topic of having children, not when you were dating, not now. But fuck, if it wasn't an appealing idea.

He never thought of himself as father material, nor did he have any intention of fantasizing about something that you might not even want, but the thought of your stomach becoming round and full of his child, with his name literally on your skin and claiming you, both of you—shit.

"You'll be the death of me," he told you hoarsely, voice thick with lust. "Get on the bed, baby. I'll put my guns in the safe, I promise, but I need you on that bed."

He'd throw you on it if he had to, but he was forcing himself not to go completely caveman on you. It was the last thing you needed, he could tell from your uncertain expression.

"C'mon." He gently guided you towards the bed, walking slowly with you until the back of your knees hit the edge of it. "Just like that. Sit down, baby."

Only when you were sitting did he go to the closet, helmet in hand, and put it along with his guns inside the safe that he had put there for this purpose. Aside from the things he personally needed as Red Hood, there were also some document files and USB drives that belonged to you—all filled with information about various criminals and crime lords.

You never stopped being his information broker and neither of you intended to change that.

"You're not mad, right?" The uncertainty in your voice made him pause, the fog of lust dissipating just enough for some rationality to return. He locked the safe and looked at you again.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Jason asked, confused. He stood up and walked towards you, sitting down on his knees in front of you and peeling his gloves off.

"I don't know, I just—" He watched you huff, his hands gently running up and down your thighs. "I never told you. I thought..."

"What?" He tilted his head, looking up at you with patience and so much love. His eyes flicked to your throat as you swallowed.

"I thought you might think I'm insane," you confessed quietly, avoiding his gaze.

Jason couldn't stop the smile that spread on his face. "Insane? Baby, the only one going insane right now is me because I'm trying very hard not to fuck you right this instant."

He laughed when you paused, looking at him like he was crazy. His heart swelled when he saw you getting out of that unsure headspace. Insecurity never suited you, in his opinion.

"You're so disgusting," you huffed, and his smile widened at the relieved humor written all over your face.

"That's what you do to me," he grinned. "Now take this shirt off. Please. I wanna see the ink again."

He looked at you with a mix of lust and adoration, not wanting to rush you but also feeling like a feral dog that's hurling its toy across the room.

With a sigh, you took the shirt off and set it aside. "Don't be weird about this," you muttered with faux sternness, making him smile.

"No promises," he winked at you, his hands traveling up your thighs to your hips. "Spread your legs. I need to get closer to you."

"And people say romance is dead," you mumbled as you spread your legs, making him chuckle softly while shifting closer, his lips immediately pressing a gentle kiss on your lower belly.

"You don't know what this makes me want to do," he breathed against your soft skin, his eyes fluttering when he felt your fingers run through the raven strands.

"You mean other than fucking me?" You asked teasingly, tilting your head.

"Oh, you..." He met your grin with his own and stood up, making you lie on your back in the middle of the bed before taking off his boots and settling between your legs.

His heart swelled when you giggled as his lips met your neck. He loved it, loved that you were sensitive and easily ticklish. It made sex even better. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, chuckling when you squirmed.

"Hey, now," he murmured against your neck. "No squirming, I haven't even started."

"That tickles!" You protested with a smile as more kisses were littered on your skin, down to your shoulder.

He smiled and pulled back, looking into your eyes. "Let me worship you, baby." His hand went to your lower belly, gently caressing your skin. He took a deep breath, feeling like he might combust.

Jason looked at you when your hand reached for his cheek. "What are you thinking?" You asked, your eyes looking like gems to him.

"You," he rasped. "This tattoo." He took a deep breath. You were his fiancée, sure, but he was still so afraid that he might scare you away. "I'm thinking about what it would look like if you were pregnant."

A crazy thing to say, he knew, as he watched your eyes widen. You weren't even married yet and he was already thinking about knocking you up. Just to see your skin stretch with his baby, with his name on your body.

"Jason—"

"I know," he interrupted, not even giving you the chance to finish speaking. "I won't do anything you don't want me to, I swear to you. But... Fuck, baby, I can't stop thinking about it. What it'd look like if your stomach was round with my name literally on it and our baby inside you."

He hadn't even been aware that he was hard. But he could feel it now, the unbearable tightness of his pants. He swallowed. "We don't have to talk about babies or anything right now. I just..." His hand gently rubbed your womb again. "Let me worship you, baby. Please. Let me show you how much I love this tattoo. How much I love you."

He watched you swallow before nodding. "Words," he murmured. "Give me words, my love."

"Yes," you breathed. "I.. I want you to show me."

That was all he needed.

He leaned down and kissed you deeply, but without urgency. This wasn't like the countless heated make-out sessions the two of you had had or the rough sex whenever both or one of you was too pent up to release the emotions verbally.

No, this kiss conveyed all of his love for you, the adoration he felt for you. One of his hands cupped the back of your head when you let out a small noise against his lips, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

He hummed against your lips when your arms locked around his neck, pulling away with a soft intake of breath before his lips went to your neck.

He smiled as he pressed kisses on your neck, hearing your soft laughs. "You're still ticklish," he murmured against your skin, amusement in his voice.

"I'm blaming you," he heard you say, and laughed.

"Of course you are."

His lips traveled from your neck to your shoulder, down to your collarbones. Both of you started breathing more shallowly as he littered your perfect breasts and stomach with soft kisses, until his lips were on your womb. On that damn tattoo.

He heard your breath hitch when his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, but they stayed there. He looked at you, pupils blown wide. "Can I?"

He watched your throat work as you swallowed. "Yes," you whispered. "Please."

"You don't have to beg me. Never beg me, baby." He inhaled sharply as he pressed a kiss on your clothed mound before pulling the black lace off of your body and tossing it on the floor. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

He felt hot. Too hot. His skin was burning as he leaned down and pressed another kiss on your mound, on the small extension of the inked J. His heart was racing, especially when he heard you gasp softly.

"Jay—"

"Shhh, I've got you," he whispered. "Just lie down and let me take care of you, baby." He had to take his jacket off, the leather landing on the floor too. His body was on fire, molten lava coursing through his veins.

He let his eyes wander over your body again before shifting a little further away. "You're perfect," he whispered as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your glistening cunt. He pressed a kiss on your flesh before licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, his eyes fluttering as he heard your breath hitch.

He looked up at you. "Tell me to stop if it becomes too much or if something feels wrong," he told you before his mouth closed around your clit, his tongue swirling around it.

The sound of your breathing becoming heavier only turned him on even more as his hands went to your thighs, moving your legs over his shoulders. Death by suffocation wouldn't be a bad way to go if this was how it happened.

"Jason—mmm..." Your breathy moan went straight to his cock, still straining painfully against his pants. He had half a mind not to dry-hump the damn bed while eating you out.

His right hand left your thigh and went up to your wet entrance, slowly easing his middle finger into you as he kept lapping at your clit. The pleased sigh that left your lips made him moan in response, muffled by your flesh.

He added a second finger when you started rolling your hips against his mouth, meeting his fingers with your own movements. He let out a muffled groan and put his free hand on your hip, to keep himself grounded and not to pin you in place.

Jason didn't mind the movement, in fact, he took it as a sign that he was doing a good enough job. He kept his mouth on your clit as his fingers pumped faster in and out of you, your moans and sighs filling the air.

It was over for him when your hands landed in his hair as you arched your back. He could feel your legs trembling while you clenched around his fingers, greedy cunt sucking them in. He kept his ministrations up as he listened to you moaning his name, his eyes on the very tattoo of it on your belly.

"Jay—Fuck, Jason, that feels good—Mmmm—!"

He couldn't see your face from down here, but he didn't need to. His eyes were locked on the tattoo, watching it ripple with your skin as he curled his fingers against the spot that he knew made you see stars, listening to you moan with satisfaction as he repeated it.

"Jason—Jason, Jay—," he heard you mewl and whimper. "I'm gonna—Fuck, I'm gonna—"

It didn't take too long for him to groan in pleasure as he felt you pulling his hair, coating his fingers with your release while your thighs clamped down on his head. His nose was pressed against your skin, the flowery scent of your body lotion mixed with the musky scent of your cum filling his senses.

He worked you through your orgasm, his own body practically vibrating from the lust coursing through his veins. Only when you stopped squeezing his head with your thighs, did he sit up and slowly pull his fingers out of you.

"Shit," he breathed as he watched you pant and come down from your high. His clean hand rubbed your hip and thigh gently, wanting to soothe you as you caught your breath. "Easy, baby. No rush, take your time."

"Jason," you breathed, your eyes meeting his.

"Shhh... Take your time. We can focus on my issue later."

He kept his hand on you until your breathing was relatively normal again and your legs weren't shaking so much anymore. He helped you sit up, letting you use his arm to pull yourself up.

"You okay?" He asked softly, adoration and concern in his eyes as he watched you nod.

"That felt good," you breathed. "Was...really good."

He smiled as you leaned against him, his arm snaking around you and holding you close. He was still uncomfortably hard in his pants, but that wasn't going to stop him from making sure you were okay first. He rubbed your sweaty skin soothingly, letting you take all the time you needed to fully recover.

"Next time," he murmured, "tell me before you get a tattoo. Might save me from having to process it before I can fuck you."

He chuckled when you slapped his chest, muttering something about him being "a filthy animal", and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

He had come home wanting to sleep, but the red light of the digital clock showing him that it was 3:47 A.M. told him that neither of you two would be getting much sleep tonight.

Tomorrow would have to be a lazy day, he supposed, smirking as he watched your hands reach for his belt.

☆ A/N: Let me know if there’s something I can do better, constructive criticism is always welcome. Hope you enjoyed!!

☆ 3.4k words

#english is not my first language #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #soft smut #jason todd #red hood #dc #dc jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female reader #fanfiction #dc fanfic #jason todd fanfiction

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 months ago

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baby daddy (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Some blood and stuff

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: I'll be so honest, this was way better in my head lol my execution needs work because aint no way this is 7k words and im still not satisfied perhaps this would be best as a series? but tbh i dont think i can write much more than this

It's based on this post from @batbusiness-schooldropout

"Alright, who the hell snitched?"

Jason stormed into the Batcave, helmet tucked under his arm, pissed.

Tim barely looked up from the Batcomputer, "What are you talking about?"

Jason gestured wildly, "I just had a fun little run-in with a couple of GCPD officers who very politely informed me that I have an outstanding legal matter that needs my attention. Which is news to me because I don’t exactly file taxes or have jury duty, so what the hell are they trying to pull?"

Tim blinked, "You have a warrant?"

"That’s what I’m asking you!" Jason snapped.

Tim, now curious, spun back to the screen, "Alright, let’s check."

He typed in Red Hood and cross-checked it with Gotham’s legal system. A few minor infractions came up—nothing serious—but then…

There it was.

Tim frowned, "Huh."

Jason narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"It’s… not a warrant," Tim said slowly, "It’s a summons."

Jason crossed his arms, "For what?"

Tim clicked on the file. A scanned document popped up, the words 'LEGAL NOTICE' at the top.

"Looks like someone filed you as a legal guardian," Tim muttered, "Gotham’s courts have been trying to notify you for a while now. They probably flagged it to GCPD just to get it on your radar."

Jason scoffed, "Guardian? Of who?"

Tim clicked again, "A kid named Aria (L/N)."

Jason frowned, "That name means nothing to me."

Tim went still.

Jason’s stomach sank, "...What?"

Tim very slowly turned the screen toward him.

Jason stared.

Child’s Name: Aria (L/N) Mother: (Y/N) (L/N) Father: Red Hood

His brain just stopped working.

Dick, passing by with his coffee, glanced at the screen, "Oh, damn. Jay, you finally settling down?"

Jason whipped around to glare at him, "I don’t know this woman! I don’t have a kid!"

"Legally, you do." Tim pointed out.

Jason turned back to the screen, rubbing his temples, "Why is my life like this?"

Tim scrolled further, "Looks like the mother put your name down instead of the real father’s. And since Gotham courts don’t do DNA tests without permission from both parents… that guy got screwed out of custody."

Jason clenched his jaw, "And now they’re trying to find me because I’m on record as the dad."

Tim squinted at the file, then choked.

Jason looked at him warily, "...What?"

Tim covered his mouth, trying so hard not to laugh, "There's a comments section."

Jason leaned over his shoulder, eyes scanning the document. Then he saw it.

Additional Comments: "He kept the helmet on the whole time."

The Cave went dead silent.

Jason stared. Tim bit his lip. Dick was turning red trying not to lose it.

Then—

Tim wheezed.

Dick howled.

Jason smacked his forehead against the Batcomputer, "I hate everything."

He then exhaled sharply, cutting off his mental breakdown before muttering, "Okay. Fine. I’ll go find the mother and figure this out."

Dick snickered, "Tell Aria Daddy’s coming home."

Jason threw a batarang at him.

***

"Hi, honey, I'm home."

The distorted, robotic voice from his helmet made you freeze in place. Your pulse thundered in your ears, dread settling like a stone in your stomach. You knew exactly why the Red Hood was in your apartment.

You turned slowly, keeping your hands in sight as if that would make a difference, "Please, don't. My daughter is in the next room. She only has me."

"Don't you mean our daughter?" He bit out, sarcasm cutting through the voice modulator.

Despite whatever anger he held toward you, he hesitated, feeling pity. You must have looked terrified.

"I'm not here to hurt you," He said after a beat, "I just want an explanation."

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm, "Her father is an asshole. I couldn’t let him have any rights over her, so I wrote your name down on all her documents. Gotham has no way of verifying, so they just had to take my word for it."

You met his gaze, your voice steady despite the situation, "I’m sorry if I made things complicated for you, but this was the only way I knew to keep his hands off her."

Jason exhaled sharply, shifting his weight, "How long did you think this would go unnoticed?"

You hesitated before answering, "Well… 'our' daughter turned five last month, so I figured you weren't going to find out anytime soon. Guess I was wrong."

You knew of Red Hood. You knew what he stood for. No matter what, he would never hurt a child. Ever. And if the rumors about him were true, then he would realize that you had only been acting in Aria’s best interest.

He studied you, the lenses of his helmet unreadable, but you could feel the weight of his scrutiny. This was an invasion of privacy—probably illegal, even—but instead of anger, he seemed... intrigued. You weren’t what he expected. You were clever, maybe even reckless, but clearly devoted to your daughter.

And—if he was being honest—pretty. Definitely pretty.

"Why me?" He finally asked, "Why not any of the other Bats?"

You shrugged, "Of all of them, you seemed like the least likely for civil court to track down." That much was true—any time someone tried to drag Red Hood into Gotham’s legal system, he either ignored it or laughed in their face before firing a warning shot.

"You're also the scariest, aside from Batman. And I didn’t want him getting any ideas about recruiting Aria for his next child vigilante project once Robin retires again." You smirked, "Lastly, having a baby daddy without a no-kill rule seemed like a great way to keep that deadbeat asshole far, far away from us."

Jason flat-out laughed at that. The sound, even through the voice modulator, carried warmth.

"You make an excellent argument," He admitted.

You relaxed slightly, "I am sorry. If I knew it was going to bother you, I never would have done it."

He shrugged, completely unbothered, "Doesn’t bother me. You were doing right by your kid. I can respect that."

Relief washed over you, and you smiled. You didn’t push the conversation further—if he wanted to be taken off her documents, he’d ask.

Instead, he surprised you.

"Can I meet her?"

Your breath caught, "Who? Aria?"

"I mean, legally, she’s my kid, right? That means I have visitation rights."

Apprehension prickled at the edges of your mind. Had you just swapped out one danger for another? You had gone to great lengths to keep Aria safe from one man—had you unknowingly invited another into her life?

Jason seemed to sense your hesitation. "You can say no," He said, almost gently, "But I just found out I have a daughter today. I’d like to meet the girl who made you pull a stunt this reckless and brave."

You could say no. You probably should say no.

And yet, as you looked at the masked man standing in your too-small living room, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

"...Okay," You said at last, "But you might want to take off the mask. She scares easy."

Jason chuckled, low and amused. You half-expected him to refuse, to make some offhanded comment before declining the invitation and leaving, but instead, you heard the soft click as he unlocked his helmet and pulled it off.

Dark, slightly messy hair with a single white streak. Stormy blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones and full lips.

"Wow," You breathed before you could stop yourself.

He raised a brow.

You cleared your throat, cheeks warming, "I can see where our daughter gets her good looks from."

Jason snorted, shaking his head.

"Aria, honey!" You called, turning toward her room, "Come out for a second, please!"

The door creaked open, followed by the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet. Aria emerged in a pink tutu, a plastic wand in her hands, and a sparkly tiara perched on her head.

She blinked up at Jason with wide, curious eyes.

"This is Mommy’s friend, Red Hood," You told her, "He wanted to say hi."

Aria beamed, "Hi, Mr. Hood!" She grabbed the edges of her tutu and curtsied, just like the princesses in her favorite cartoons.

You glanced at Jason. His expression had softened, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For a man who had probably seen the worst the world had to offer, he looked completely in awe.

Jason, the Red Hood—the most terrifying name in Gotham’s underworld—cleared his throat, gripping his helmet a little tighter.

"Uh. Hi there." He said, voice definitely shaking.

You bit your lip, looking down to hide your smile.

This huge crime lord, who had probably seen more murders tonight than you had in your entire life, was nervous talking to a five-year-old.

Aria giggled, "You talk funny."

Jason blinked, "I do?"

She nodded, "Your voice is all rumbly! Like Batman!"

Jason made a very undignified sound, "I am nothing like Batman, princess."

Aria gasped dramatically, "You know Batman?!"

***

Jason didn’t know exactly how he ended up in this position.

After that first meeting with Aria, he’d been more than ready to let you both get back to your lives. You had only put his name down as Aria's father to scare off her real father; he had no place here.

And yet.

When he found himself alone in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, or in the rare moments of silence while working on cars, his mind drifted. He’d think about Aria—her wide, innocent eyes staring up at him, the way she had curtsied like a damn princess, completely unafraid of the man Gotham whispered about in fear.

An unfamiliar squeeze tugged at his heart.

He had a daughter.

And the more he thought about her, the more he wanted to protect her—to keep that innocence untouched, to make sure she was safe and happy. He wanted to be a father.

Then, inevitably, his thoughts turned to you.

You hadn't spoken for long, but somehow, you’d managed to stick in his mind. Despite it being the end of the day, exhaustion tugging at you, there had been a light in your eyes—something warm, something alive. He found himself drawn to it.

The confidence in your posture, the way you had no trouble meeting his eyes, the sheer sass you had thrown his way despite knowing exactly who he was. And above all, the love and protectiveness you had for Aria.

You were nothing like anyone he had ever met before.

A couple of days later, he found himself knocking at your door again.

He had told himself it was just to check on Aria after a Joker attack. That was reasonable, right? He had to make sure she was safe. That’s all it was.

You had offered him dinner. He declined.

Then, a couple of days after that, he found himself there again—this time after a Poison Ivy incident.

You offered him dinner again.

This time, he obliged.

That night, he sat at your dinner table with you and Aria, listening as she excitedly told him about school. He learned about your job, about the little details of your life, and—much to his amusement—was introduced to what Aria called the greatest meal in the entire world.

Hello Kitty-shaped pasta.

He raised a brow at you.

You shrugged, "It’s expensive, but it makes her happy."

Jason huffed a small laugh, "What’s the special occasion?"

Aria beamed, practically vibrating in her seat.

"I got made line leader today!" She announced proudly.

You glanced at her with a mix of amusement and pride, eyes warm, "It’s a big deal."

Jason turned to Aria, his chest tightening at the way she puffed herself up with pride. Without thinking, he reached out and ruffled her hair like it was second nature.

"Good job, princess," He murmured.

Her entire face lit up.

And just like that, Jason Todd was done for.

It had been two months since Jason first met the both of you, and now, sitting at the dinner table, he was experiencing his first real parental crisis.

It was obvious that Aria was in a bad mood.

She barely touched her food, half-heartedly pushing it around her plate. Even when you suggested ordering takeout—usually a foolproof way to lift her spirits—she just shook her head. You and Jason exchanged a concerned glance over her head.

Something was clearly wrong.

You sighed, resigning yourself to the hope that she’d tell you before bed or at least over breakfast tomorrow.

"I'm just gonna go take a shower, do you mind?" You asked, gesturing toward Aria.

Jason didn’t hesitate before nodding.

You smiled gratefully, pressing a kiss to Aria’s crown before leaning over and doing the same to Jason.

A month ago, that would’ve made him jump out of his skin. Now, after two months of shared dinners—some planned, others happening more naturally—he only sat there, heart racing in his chest, pretending that wasn’t the highlight of his day.

When he heard the shower turn on, he turned to Aria with a mischievous grin.

"Okay, Mom’s in the shower. What do you say to ice cream for dinner?"

Jason liked to pretend you had no idea whenever he and Aria snuck ice cream together. But ever since he convinced you to let him make homemade ice cream with protein shakes and sneaky healthy ingredients, you had stopped putting up much of a fight. Besides, he wasn’t exactly subtle. If he didn’t outright tell you, the dirty dishes in the sink were more than enough of a giveaway.

More than anything, though, he just wanted Aria to eat something.

But tonight, instead of the excited little gasp she usually gave, Aria just frowned.

"Mommy doesn’t like that."

"Princess," He said more gently, shifting in his seat, "is something wrong? You love ice cream. And Mom made one of your favorites tonight, but you’re not eating, and…" His voice softened, "That makes me sad."

Aria hesitated for a few seconds before pushing her plate away and sliding off her chair. Jason tensed, heart thudding slightly faster. Shit, did I upset her? Is she about to cry?

But she didn’t.

Instead, she ran off, returning moments later with her pink Barbie backpack. She unzipped it and rifled through its contents before pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper and handing it to him.

Jason smoothed the paper out.

And felt his stomach drop.

Daddy-Daughter Day!

"My teacher told us to give it to our parents," Aria said quietly, her lip trembling, "So our daddies can come visit one day."

She fidgeted, looking down at her hands.

"But… I don’t have a daddy."

And just like that, Jason Todd’s heart broke in two.

***

When you came out of the shower, towel-drying your hair and now dressed in your pajamas, you immediately looked around for Aria.

"She didn’t really want to eat, so I just put her to bed," Jason informed you.

You sighed, sinking into a chair at the dining table, "Do you think I should call her teacher tomorrow and ask if something happened? Maybe someone was being mean to her at school?"

Wordlessly, Jason slid a folded piece of paper across the table toward you. You furrowed your brows and picked it up, unfolding it to read.

Your face immediately darkened.

"This can’t be right!" You hissed, voice sharp with anger. "I thought schools had outfashioned practices like this! What happened to inclusivity and all that crap? What about kids with two moms? Or no parents at all? I’m calling up the school. I’m gonna be a full-blown Karen. I’m gonna—"

"(Y/N)—"

"No, Jason, this isn’t okay!"

Despite your fury, you kept your voice down for Aria’s sake. Jason wasn’t sure if you were about to explode or just strain your vocal cords with your whispered screams. But then, just as suddenly as your anger had flared, you seemed to fizzle out.

You slumped back into your chair, rubbing your face with trembling hands.

"I’ve done everything I can to make sure Aria never feels the absence of a father," You murmured.

"I’ve tried. I’ve—" Your voice cracked.

You let out a shaky breath and shielded your face with your hands, "My poor baby. I can’t believe she held onto this all day without telling me."

Jason think twice before he pulled you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his neck as you composed yourself.

After a moment, he spoke, "Look, I know it might not be the same, but… I was thinking. What if I attended the event with Aria?"

You stiffened, then slowly pulled back, meeting his eyes. Your expression wasn’t hopeful—it was guarded.

Jason’s stomach soured.

"Jay, I know we’ve been having a good time lately, but you can’t do that to Aria," You said, shaking your head, "If you go to this event as her dad, she’s going to see you as that. And you can’t—you can’t do that to her."

Jason swallowed hard. His voice was quieter when he asked, "What if I wanted to? To be seen as her dad? Would that really be so terrible?"

You didn’t answer.

You just stood up from the table and walked away.

Jason almost would have laughed at how much you resembled Aria in that moment if he didn't feel his stomach sinking to his feet.

But just like Aria, you also came back.

Clutched in your hands was a camera. You placed it in front of him, watching as he stared at you with unsure eyes.

"I record all of Aria’s school events," You said softly. "Don’t miss a second of it."

Jason blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

Before you could react, he grabbed you and twirled you around the kitchen.

You let out a surprised squeal before bursting into giggles, clinging onto his shoulders. But then, realization hit.

You were definitely not wearing a bra.

Your giggles faded, and Jason froze as well, both of you suddenly very aware of how close you were. You stared at each other, identical blushes creeping up your cheeks.

You cleared your throat.

"You can—um—you can put me down now."

***

It was almost comical how small the classroom was.

Jason had to duck his head to step inside, barely squeezing through the low doorframe. The room was packed—about fifteen other dads crammed into tiny plastic chairs that looked like they could barely support one ass cheek. Jason didn’t even bother trying. Instead, he just lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs as he settled in.

The dads around him nodded politely as they all waited for the teachers to finish setting up and taking attendance.

"I don’t think I’ve seen you around before," A man beside him said, shifting his son in his lap, "I’m David."

"Jason," He replied, shaking his hand with a firm but polite grip.

"This is Harry," David continued, gesturing to the little boy who peeked up at Jason shyly before quickly burying his face in his dad’s shirt. Jason chuckled.

"So, which one’s yours?"

Jason glanced across the room, "Over there, in the book corner."

David followed his gaze. In the far corner, a little girl in denim dungarees rifled through a stack of picture books with a very serious expression, clearly determined to find a specific one. Jason had picked out her outfit today—he’d even let her wear the tiara she refused to take off, despite your insistence that it was an inside toy.

No doubt, she was making a mess that her poor teacher would have to clean up later.

David frowned, "Who?"

"The one with the tiara," Jason said.

David's confusion deepened, "Aria?"

Jason’s brows furrowed, "Yeah."

"Aria (L/N)?"

"Yes."

David blinked, "I—I didn’t know you were—I thought (Y/N) was single."

Jason’s expression darkened. A phantom of a scowl flickered across his face before he forced himself to relax. He wasn’t about to scare off the other parents at an event that was supposed to be important for Aria.

"She isn’t," He said simply.

David paled, "Oh. Uh—sorry." He quickly bowed his head, clearly embarrassed.

Jason smirked, barely hiding his haughty attitude. So what if he told a little white lie? It wouldn’t do any harm for Dave—or Dan, or whatever his name was—to keep his sights off you.

Really, you deserved better than some average, boring guy who probably filed his taxes early and grilled chicken without seasoning. Someone like that wouldn’t know how to handle you. He wouldn’t know how to make you laugh when you were stressed, wouldn’t know how to handle your sass, wouldn’t know how to love you the way you deserved.

No, you needed someone confident. Someone strong. Someone who could protect you and Aria. Someone with a soft side, sure, but also someone who wasn’t afraid to fight for you. Someone who would go to hell and back if it meant keeping you both safe.

Someone like…

Oh.

Jason's smirk faltered for half a second before he recovered, clearing his throat and forcing himself to focus on Aria, who was still knee-deep in her book hunt.

Well. That was something to unpack later.

***

"Now, all together, everyone! On the count of three—one, two, three!" the teacher announced cheerfully.

A chorus of tiny voices rang out.

"I love you, Dad!"

It was loud, chaotic, a jumble of high-pitched shouts that somehow blended into something warm and sweet. Parents chuckled, kids giggled, the room filled with laughter and joy.

But Jason’s heart sank.

While the other kids beamed up at their fathers, Aria clutched the handmade card in tight fists, her knuckles white. She kept her head down, lip wobbling, shoulders trembling as she struggled to say the words.

Jason knelt in front of her, his heart twisting. God, she’s so small. Both of her tiny hands barely covered his palm as he gently took them in his own.

"You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, Aria," He told her softly, "I’m not going to force you to do anything. Just know that I love you very much, princess. That’s enough for me."

She finally looked up at him, somehow seeming even smaller despite the fact that he was kneeling. Her big, glassy doe eyes searched his face.

"You really love me?" She asked in the quietest whisper.

"More than anything, baby."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, before he could think about the weight they carried. About what it might mean for a little girl who had spent her whole life without a father.

For a moment, she just stared at him. Jason barely had time to register the emotion in her eyes before she launched herself at him, tiny arms wrapping tightly around his neck. She burrowed against him, her small frame pressing against his chest as she whispered into his ear—

"I love you, Daddy."

Jason felt his breath catch in his throat.

Oh. Oh.

He squeezed her tighter, pressing his face into her soft curls, "I love you too, princess," He murmured, voice thick with something he wasn’t ready to name.

And for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd felt like he belonged.

***

Aria had been absolutely beaming after Daddy-Daughter Day, her excitement carrying her through the evening—especially since Jason had taken her to the park afterward. She had barely managed to get through telling you about her day, slurring her words sleepily as you tucked her into bed.

You pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, smoothing down her hair before stepping away, only to find Jason waiting for you in the doorway.

You smiled at him, reaching for his hand and leading him back to the living room. Without a word, you poured him a glass of wine, knowing that, even though he wouldn’t admit it, the day at her kindergarten had probably exhausted him. The proof was in the way he let out an almost comically heavy sigh the second he sank onto the couch.

You settled beside him, resting your head on his shoulder like it belonged there, both of you staring at the very much off television in comfortable silence.

“She has a lot of energy, doesn’t she?” You murmured, amused.

Jason huffed out a laugh, “Yeah. I like to think I’m somewhat athletic, but Aria put me to shame today.”

You smiled, tilting your head slightly to look up at him, “Thanks for going today. It meant a lot to her. And to me, too.”

There was a beat of silence before Jason reached for your hand, his fingers threading through yours like second nature. His grip was warm, grounding.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

Living in Gotham, you considered yourself one of the lucky ones.

Sure, you weren’t immune to the constant calamities that plagued the city, but you had managed to avoid being caught in the worst of them. Your bank had never been robbed while you were there. You had never been held hostage. You were one of the few people left who had never fallen victim to Joker venom.

Sure, your house had been broken into before—before Aria—but you were never home when it happened.

Really, you should’ve known your luck was going to run out eventually.

You had gotten too comfortable with Jason’s late-night visits, so when the knock came at your door, you didn’t even hesitate. You didn’t check the peephole. You didn’t ask who it was. You just…opened it.

Rookie mistake.

The man standing on the other side was a stranger. Tall. Built. And he made no effort to conceal the gun in his pocket.

Your blood went cold.

A smirk curled at his lips, sending goosebumps crawling up your skin. Your throat tightened.

“Hello, sweetheart. Did your baby daddy stop by?”

Your voice barely came out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The man tsked, stepping forward, making you instinctively press yourself against the doorframe.

“Now, now. Don’t lie,” He murmured, “It won’t end well for you—or the little runt back there.”

Your heart stopped.

Aria.

Terror clawed at your chest, your breath shuddering. Tears burned your eyes.

“Please,” You whispered, “Don’t hurt her. She’s just a child.”

“The child of the infamous Red Hood.” He tilted his head mockingly, “You can’t possibly think that means nothing.”

You shook your head violently, “She doesn’t know anything. I don’t know anything. Please.”

Your hands were iron on the doorknob, but it meant nothing.

With a single sharp shove, he flung the door open.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

***

Jason had been having a good night.

He had just finished his patrol and was on his way to your place, eager to see you and Aria. Maybe he’d bring her some hot chocolate, tuck her into bed, and spend the rest of the night with you, pretending—for just a little while—that the world outside didn’t exist.

Then he saw the door.

Wide open.

His blood ran cold.

Jason didn’t think—he moved. Gun drawn, he stormed inside, heart hammering against his ribs like a caged animal. The second he stepped into the apartment, his stomach dropped.

The place was trashed.

Aria’s toys were scattered across the floor, your coffee table overturned, and the framed pictures on the wall had been knocked down, the glass shattered.

There had been a struggle.

Jason’s throat tightened as his eyes landed on a streak of blood smeared across the hardwood floor.

His world tilted.

No. No, no, no, NO.

His hands shook, but his grip on his gun only tightened. His pulse was pounding in his ears, deafening, drowning out everything but the rage that ignited in his chest like an explosion.

His vision blurred with fury.

Someone took you. Someone took Aria.

His family.

Jason turned sharply and stormed out of the apartment, his movements lethal and precise. He going to hunt down the bastards who thought they could take his girls and live to tell the tale.

They were going to pay.

***

"I need you to find two missing people."

That was the first thing out of Jason’s mouth the second he entered the cave. His urgency didn’t seem apparent enough to anyone, judging by the way Dick and Bruce didn’t even look up from sparring.

Tim, who didn’t bother glancing away from the Batcomputer, simply asked, “Who?”

“(Y/N) and Aria (L/N).”

At this, Dick perked up, “Your fake baby mama and kid? She might not be missing, Little Wing. Maybe she’s just at Superman’s baby shower.”

Dick wasn’t expecting boisterous laughter, but at least a huff of breath or a chuckle would have been appreciated. Instead, he suddenly found himself grabbed by the collar, yanked forward until he was forced to look Jason in the eye.

Jason’s expression was thunderous—fury on the surface, but something even more unsettling lurked underneath.

“The mother of my child and my daughter are missing, and you want to make jokes?”

Dick raised a brow, forcing himself to stay calm, “I thought you didn’t know them?”

Jason’s grip tightened for a second before he let go, stepping back. His voice was low, unwavering.

“I do now.”

***

The world felt like it was spinning in slow motion. Every breath was a struggle, your head pounding from the blow you’d taken earlier, your body screaming in pain with every movement. You tried to focus, tried to tell yourself it was going to be okay—that Aria was okay—but you weren’t okay.

You had been firm in your resolve, refusing to reveal anything about the Red Hood, willing to die on the hill that you knew nothing. But you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up. So far, they had only hurt you—because when they had turned to Aria, demanding answers, she had wailed and sobbed until she peed herself. The memory made tears well in your eyes.

Your poor girl might walk out of this untouched, but she wouldn’t leave unscathed. This would haunt her for years to come.

And you knew—the second they turned back toward her, the second they so much as raised a hand in her direction—you would break. It didn’t matter how much you loved Jason. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever put anyone above Aria’s safety.

Her terrified little eyes stayed locked on you, watching as a trail of blood ran down the side of your face.

Then the door slammed open.

The sound echoed in the empty space, sharp and deafening. Your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat. The man holding you captive turned toward the entrance, a sneer curling his lips.

“Well, well,” He drawled, his voice sickeningly amused. “Looks like Daddy's finally joined us for the party.”

Your heart leaped in your chest. But you couldn’t show it. Not when Aria was still in danger.

With the momentary distraction, she crawled into your lap, and despite the blinding pain searing through your body, you pulled her in. She trembled against you, clutching onto you as if her life depended on it—and in a way, it did. You shielded her, wrapping your arms around her tiny frame, covering her eyes with your bloody hand.

You whispered sweet nothings into her ear, pressing weak kisses to her temple, hoping—praying—that it would be enough to comfort her.

Then came the first gunshot.

You didn’t dare look. You knew what was happening. You could hear it in the crack of bone, the dull thuds of bodies hitting the floor, the sharp gasps of dying men. Jason was swift. Merciless. Tearing through the people who had dared to lay a hand on you and his daughter.

He was here.

He was going to save you.

Another body collapsed nearby, and your breath hitched. You felt yourself slipping, your limbs numb, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

Then, his voice cut through the haze—low and desperate, but still gentle.

“Sweetheart?”

You wanted to look up at him, to reach for him, but your body was betraying you. Your vision blurred, the pain making it impossible to move.

His hand cupped your face, his warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you. You tried to focus on that, tried to hold on.

“Talk to me, baby,” He murmured, his voice tight with worry.

But you couldn’t. You could barely breathe. The only thing keeping you tethered to consciousness was the familiar scent of leather and gunpowder—the scent of Jason, of safety, of home.

You felt him shift, carefully lifting you into his arms, cradling you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You instinctively leaned into him, letting his presence surround you.

Aria clung to him just as tightly, her tiny voice muffled against his chest.

“Daddy!”

Despite everything, despite the agony consuming your body, your heart swelled at hearing her call him that. When had she started calling him Dad?

Then Jason’s fingers brushed against your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His voice was softer now, almost breaking.

“Stay with me, sweetheart.”

You forced your eyes open, locking onto his—those intense, unwavering blue eyes that had pinned you to your place the first time you had met in your apartment.

That day you had been apprehensive at best when he had asked to meet Aria, second guessing every choice you made but in the end choosing to follow your gut when it said it had a good feeling about him.

Now, you were sure of it.

“Jason,” You rasped, barely above a whisper. His head snapped down toward you instantly, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip through his fingers.

“I need you to promise me something,” You murmured, your breath shallow, your chest tight.

His brows furrowed. “Anything,” He said, but the hesitance in his voice told you he already knew where this was going.

“I need you to promise…” You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to keep going, “If something happens to me… you’ll take care of Aria. Promise me, Jay.”

He froze.

For the first time since he’d stormed in, tearing through your captors like an avenging angel, he looked terrified.

His lips parted, but no words came out. You could see the battle raging inside him—the part of him that refused to believe he could lose you and the part that was too afraid not to make that promise.

“Don’t you dare say that,” He finally whispered, voice trembling, “I’m not losing you. I won’t—”

“Promise me,” You urged. You barely had the strength to grip his jacket, but you pulled weakly at the fabric anyway, needing him to understand.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, his breath coming out in uneven bursts. But he wasn’t crying. Not yet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he swallowed hard and nodded.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” He swore, his voice breaking. “I won’t let her grow up without you. I promise.”

The relief that washed over you was instant. Even as your vision darkened at the edges, even as your body started to give out, you felt… safe. At peace.

With your last burst of strength, you reached for Aria’s tiny hand, wrapping it in your weak grasp. You gave her a faint squeeze, managing the smallest of smiles.

“I love you,” You whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, “Both of you.”

Jason's breath hitched. His grip around you tightened, as if he could physically keep you here, tethered to him, to Aria, to the life he couldn't bear to lose.

“No, no, sweetheart—stay with me," He pleaded, his voice cracking, raw with panic. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky, "You don’t get to say that like it’s the last time. You don’t—Please (Y/N)—" His voice broke completely, and for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd was afraid.

Because he knew what loss felt like. Knew it too well.

And he couldn't—wouldn't—survive losing you too.

Aria let out a whimper, squeezing your fingers with her tiny hand. "Mommy?" Her voice was so small, so scared, and it shattered something inside him.

He shifted you in his arms, holding you closer, keeping you upright even though your body was limp.

“I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered, but the words felt hollow, like a plea rather than a promise.

Aria began to sob loudly, little hands grabbing at your sleeve, trying to shake you awake, “Mommy, wake up! Please!”

Her wails were raw, desperate, but Jason had to hold her back, had to keep her from accidentally hurting you any further. His grip on her was gentle but firm, even as his own body trembled with barely restrained terror.

He buried his face in her hair, biting back the sob threatening to claw its way out of his throat. He held you tighter, as if he could physically keep your soul tethered to him, as if just holding you close would stop the light from fading from your eyes.

He had never felt this helpless.

Jason Todd, the Red Hood, the man who had clawed his way back from the grave, who had survived horrors most people couldn’t even imagine—he was useless when it mattered most.

He was holding the broken pieces of this family.

A family that had been good, that had been safe before he came into the picture. A family that had welcomed him with open arms, treated him as though he had never been missing in the first place.

And what had he done in return?

He had ruined it.

He had brought his war, his bloodstained hands, his cursed existence into your lives, and now you were paying the price for it.

If he had never been selfish enough to stay, to want this, to think—even for a second—that he could have something good, that he could deserve you, this never would have happened.

This was his fault.

It was always his fault.

His mother’s betrayal. His death. His resurrection. The people he killed. The people he couldn’t save.

And now you.

Jason clenched his jaw, his breath coming out in ragged, uneven gasps. His heart slammed against his ribs as guilt and fury warred inside him. His hands, hands that had broken men, hands that had torn Gotham’s underworld apart, could do nothing but hold onto the only two people in the world who had ever made him feel like he was worth something.

But what was he worth now?

What good was he if he couldn’t even protect the people he loved?

Jason let out a shaking breath, pressing a kiss to Aria’s head, squeezing his eyes shut as he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

He never should have stayed.

***

Jason kept his head down as he exited your hospital room, feeling his heart break under the weight of his own resolve—to stay away from both of you.

He spotted his father waiting at the reception, handling the paperwork and payment. As much as Jason felt like the lowest he had ever been and didn’t want anyone to see him like this, he was a little relieved. At least Bruce was here. At least he could leave knowing you were taken care of. He could go home, lock himself in his apartment, and spend the next few weeks trying to forget you. Trying to convince himself that he had been an idiot for ever thinking he had a place in your family.

Because thanks to him, your family had almost been destroyed.

With his head down, he walked up to Bruce, hands stuffed in his pockets. His father gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, but Jason didn’t want to talk. If he opened his mouth now, if he let himself breathe wrong, he knew the lump in his throat would break, and the tears would come pouring out.

"Daddy!"

The sound of Aria’s voice snapped his head up just in time for her to crash into him, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck in a desperate grip. Before he could even think, he was holding her, hugging her tight, feeling her little body shake.

"Daddy, don’t leave! Mommy and I need you! Please don’t go!"

Jason looked at her tear-streaked face and felt something deep inside himself crack. He beat himself up for even considering walking away. How could he? How could he leave while you were still lying in a hospital bed? How could he abandon Aria when she needed him most?

His baby girl.

She needed him. And the truth was—he needed her just as much. He needed both of you.

Right then and there, he made a promise to himself. He would protect you both more than anything. He would love you both more than anything. And he would stop at nothing to make sure you were happy and safe.

Pressing his nose against Aria’s wet cheek, he kissed away her tears, "I’m not going anywhere, princess. Daddy’s not going anywhere."

He stole a glance at Bruce, who gave him a small smile and a nod. With a steadier heart, he carried Aria back to your hospital room.

The second she saw you, Aria gasped, "Mommy!"

You gave Jason a tired smile from your place on the bed, the cut on your lip making it painful to do so, but you still reached out for his hand.

"I thought you would’ve left, wallowing in your guilt. Your masochistic streak and all that," You teased softly.

Jason let out a shaky breath, giving you a glassy-eyed smile before pressing another kiss to Aria’s temple.

"Our girl knows how to keep me grounded."

You grinned at that, exhaustion clear in your features but warmth shining in your eyes.

"She’s her father’s daughter, alright."

***

State of New Jersey Department of Family and Child Services Official Adoption Certificate

This document certifies that on 17/03/2025, Jason Peter Todd has legally adopted Aria (L/N), hereafter known as Aria Todd, and is recognized as her father with all parental rights and responsibilities.

Adoptive Parent: Jason Peter Todd Child’s Name (Amended): Aria Todd Birth Mother: (Y/N) Todd Previous Father Listed: Red Hood (Alias) — Amended

Additional Comments: "I’m not the stepdad. I’m the dad who stepped up." — Jason Todd

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@tchatso

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

@that-one-fangirl69

@el-hrts

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sixeyesonathiel · 1 month ago

Text

what happens when satoru gojo fakes vulnerability and someone responds with actual care?

a/n: reader using a male avatar so she doesn't get underestimated and satoru using a female avatar to scam his way through life is literally the silliest dynamic i’ve ever cooked up. like hello??? gender who??? one’s silently carrying the whole server with raw skill and the other’s sobbing in sparkles for loot he doesn’t even need. peak clownery. I LOVE THEM.

satoru didn’t play the game to be noble. he played to win.

he lounged on a mossy ledge in aethergate online’s emerald forest, legs swinging above luminous roots, beams of late afternoon light dripping through the tree canopy like syrup. his avatar—a petite girl with tousled silver hair in a wispy bob, watery blue eyes wide with a kind of fragile wonder—sat delicately beside him, barefoot, skirts artfully dirtied, wand trembling in her small hands. she looked like she’d burst into tears if you so much as raised your voice.

and she was him.

he’d picked the flattest chest size the game allowed, for maximum "innocent lost fairy" effect. her voice—filtered through a pitch-tuned modulator—was airy and lilting, like a tearful anime side character two seconds from fainting. her idle animations were rigged to sparkle when she wasn’t doing anything. a helpless deer stuck in traffic. a damsel in distress.

who also happened to be capable of obliterating an elite raid squad with one broken staff and an accidental crit chain.

in real life, satoru slouched deep into his gaming chair, hoodie collar bunched beneath his chin, white hair curling in a sleepy cloud around his head. his bangs hung low over a pair of gleaming, mischief-fueled eyes behind the visor. he stretched, knuckles cracking, before lazily adjusting the mic attached to his cheek. a bowl of half-finished cereal sat nearby, forgotten. his room glowed faintly with neon strips and a flickering holographic map of the game world plastered to one wall.

he was, objectively, the worst.

and today, he was feeling particularly theatrical.

the forest shimmered around him—twilight casting gold against the thick moss, background players flitting through with cloaks trailing behind, the soft ding of system notifications blending into birdsong. a sprite child NPC chased a floating pet butterfly near the stream, while two players argued over loot nearby, their chat bubbles popping like comic panels. satoru squatted in an overgrown fox den, triggering a scripted ambush, and let a swarm of level thirty wolves drag his health bar down to red. he screamed through his girl voice like a starlet in an old movie. “aah~ not againnn~ i’m sooo scaaared~ someone heeelp~!”

just in time, the brush behind him rustled.

you stepped out.

no fanfare, no slow-mo entrance. just calm, heavy steps. armored boots pressed moss flat as you walked into the fray, blade already swinging. three clean arcs. no wasted motion. the wolves fell without even a snarl. your avatar—broad-shouldered, practical, with short dark hair and a jawline like it was carved by someone very tired—stood tall against the dappled light.

satoru’s avatar blinked slowly up at you. perfect mark.

he mashed the sparkle emote.

“waaah~ thankyuuuu~ i was totally gonna diiie~ you saved meee~ teehee~”

you stared. then crouched, dropping a low-tier potion by his feet.

his real grin stretched wide. “ehhh? you’re sooo nice~ i ran out of everythiiing~ do you maybe have a few moreee?”

you paused. then dropped three more. silent.

he squealed for real. in real life, he kicked his feet against the desk.

“i love you,” he breathed through the mic, voice mod still on. but you just nodded once.

and left.

or tried to. satoru scrambled after you like a glittery barnacle. every time you stopped to check your map, his dainty avatar would sit cross-legged behind you, hands folded in her lap. if you set traps, he’d walk directly into them with the most tragic whimper you’d ever heard.

you always helped.

he couldn’t believe how easy it was.

on the third day, he managed to scam your epic raid-earned sword out of you with a long, high-pitched plea and a sparkly spin.

“n-noo~ i feel sooo baddd~ i’m scamming youuu~!!!” he cried, while pressing confirm before you could blink.

and you just... nodded.

no mic. not once had he heard your voice.

but you always turned to face him. always healed him. always gave a little wave at the end of a dungeon. sometimes you’d do a silly dance emote if he pretended to cry hard enough.

he was on top of the world.

until the boss hunt.

he was half-tempted to ghost you when the invite came in. but... he liked the attention. and the freebies. so he showed up, sparkles and all. actually tried a little. even dodged once or twice.

afterward, when the rare loot dropped, he waited for you to start dividing it.

instead, you traded it all to him. the legendary cloak. the mount egg. the enhancement cores. he stared at the trade window, then at your avatar. you stood still, like a sentry carved from obsidian.

his fingers hovered over the confirm button.

“w-wait, are you sure? i don’t— i don’t deserve all this—”

he flicked on the sparkle emote again, panicking.

but you only bowed gently. then waved.

then disappeared.

he stared at the empty space where your avatar had been.

“…what the hell,” he muttered, voice modulator still on.

then, real voice: quiet, almost pouting. “what the hell.”

he sat down in the same mossy spot, skirt fluttering in the still forest air. around him, players sprinted past in the distance, gear clinking, birds chirped lazily, a low-level bard sang off-key to a party of two, while an animated slime NPC bounced in slow circles nearby. the world went on, coded and infinite.

satoru stayed frozen.

then, slowly, he typed.

“did u mean to give me all that stuff?”

an hour passed. the sky dimmed from golden dusk to violet evening. fireflies blinked in and out between fern leaves. his cereal had gone completely soggy.

then:

“yes. u looked happy.”

his visor fogged a little. his fingers paused on the keyboard.

he didn’t log off for another four hours. just sat there, tiny legs swinging off the ledge, face pink.

slightly smiling.

719 notes · View notes

darling-gemini · 2 years ago

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I've got dungeons and dragons on the brain

#thinking about running this fun module ive found #i think it'd be neat #the idea of DMing is so strange to me but goddamnit somebody's gotta do it #(i want my friends to get into dnd)#(so I can get back into dnd)#and maybe it'll lead to lifelong bonds and stuff😤#(fingers crossed)#i want them to like it so bad #this one's a little ooky spooky which i love actually #i just hope my players will also enjoy it #speaking of which tyler if u see this mind your business #love u #anyway #yeah the dnd brainrot is so strong tn

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electricgg · 13 days ago

Text

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 10: Do You Wanna Hear About The Deal That I’m Making?

Masterlist Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 (Here!) / Chapter 11 /

A morgue is always cold.

Morgues are cold to slow down decomposition and preserve bodies until they are needed for autopsy or other procedures. Refrigeration helps to reduce bacterial growth and enzymatic activity, which are the main causes of decay.

Jason hated the cold. And morgues.

But he was sucking it up for the sake of finding answers.

That encounter with her had left him with questions. Many questions.

Jason hadn’t expected Dick’s rambles of delirum to be true, just some exaggerated tantrum over not having attention him for more than a five minutes. But now, he was starting to understand some of the fuss running rampant amongst the family.

He knew she’d be different, that she would become angry. Resentful. Full of spite.

Just like him. Finally. Someone who knows the same pain. The same resentment. The same anger.

But it wasn’t like that with her. It wasn’t the same.

Jason had some expectations set the moment he found out about the murder attempt. That all of those involved would be killed by his hand (because it’s what he she would have wanted). That he would shove it all over Bruce’s face (what he should have done for him her). And that he would be the only person to truly understand him (because she thinks like him, feels like him, she needs him-)

He had accomplished the first two.

The third one, however, was coming on a bit more complicated than expected.

Jason expected fury, fists flying, screaming, crying, yelling, biting. He expected fingers pointed at the old man, claims of revenge, a need for blood and justice to be served.

Instead, he got a sleepwalking fugitive who looked at him with the same fear as before.

That same weary look was on the corners of the manor whenever he visited. That tremble of shoulders whenever he spoke, as if his voice spooked her. Those flinches whenever he stepped a bit closer in her direction.

The only thing that was gone was the quietness of her voice, now replaced by a firmer, louder tone that lessened the boiling frustration underneath his skin.

Where was the anger? Where was the thirst for revenge? She was supposed to be like him now. Broken and hurt. He was supposed to pick the pieces and rebuild. Be like him. Because she is like him now. They are the same, and he wants her to act out and yell and stop lookiNG AT HIM IN FEA-

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Red Hood?”

…That’s right. He’s here for answers.

And for those answers, he had to get them from the only person who was able to provide them.

Dr. Rio Vidal was an unsettling woman and more. She had been the one to do the autopsy on the bastards that bullied his sister (after dumping what was left of the bodies right in front of the station with incriminating proof tapped on their chests), and just one small talk was enough for Jason to decide that he would not spend more than it was necessary around that woman.

He didn’t like how every hair underneath his armor stood up when he crossed looks with that woman.

Something about her wasn’t… right.

But he would ignore the knot in his stomach that twisted tighter and tighter with every second that passed in her presence until he got what he wanted.

“I need a medical file on one of your patients.” His modulator hid very well the tension in his voice.

The doctor turned around, locking one of the small metal refrigerator doors in the wall with a fake smile. “And instead of taking it from my office, you came straight to me? I am very flattered, Red Hood.”

He did not like the dark glint in her eyes when she drawled out his name.

“Didn’t find the patient that I’m looking for.” His fingers gripped the holsters strapped to his belt.

“And that would beee?” She blinked repeatedly with a sharp, unsettling smile.

Jason felt cold sweat dripping down his temple, the longer he continued to keep direct eye contact with the woman. He could feel the smugness coming out of her when he diverted his gaze towards the fridges.

“The Wayne girl.” He uttered, ignoring the exaggerated gasping of Dr. Vidal as she clutched her hand to her chest.

“How silly of me! I was carrying it with me today!” She boasted, turning back around towards a table that had neat, clean files. Flipping through them until she grabbed a thick file and waved it eagerly at him. “They were requested to be taken out for comparisons of blood analysis.”

That got his attention, grabbing the file, but Dr. Vidal’s grip on it caught him off guard. “Who requested such a thing? Was it the commissioner?”

He tried to take the file from her, but she held onto it with a tight smile. “No, that would have been me.”

“What for?” Jason didn’t like the fact that this person, in particular, was going around doing tests with his sister’s samples.

“Easy, Red,” she eased, finally letting go of the documents and crossing her arms. “I was just curious about how advanced her healing was coming along. Not everyone heals from a deadly head wound that fast, and I’m sure you are well aware of that... due to your line of work, hm?”

There. That was it.

Healing. His sister had sleepwalked from Wayne Manor to Chinatown in the middle of the night while barefoot and in pajamas, and there wasn’t a single scratch on her feet, nor woken up the next day sick (because last time he checked, she got sick easily. He remembered the various times she got sick for staying outside in the rain for a bit. It was ridiculous-) by what Alfred told him when he called to check up.

Most people would have put it as luck, but Jason knew better than that because of various reasons.

One of them being how the hell did she make 12 miles in less than five minutes.

He had a theory, multiple ones, actually.

One of them being that the water of the pool she fell into when she was attacked was lazarus’ pit water. It was far fetched and proved wrong when he ran some tests with the samples he had gathered from her old school bag.

There was another one that it could be related to the pool as well. That it could have some odd chemicals and had altered her or something amongst that line. But it was also discarded when all the test showed that it was just old still water that could only have given her a nasty virus.

Which lead to the next theory that none of what was going on with her was happening because of outside elements or sources.

But it could something more internal.

Bodily kind of internal.

And that was just a whole new pipeline he wasn’t sure he was ready to go down by.

“Any changes I should keep an eye on, Doc?” he pried, gloved fingers tightening on the edges of the file.

Rio hummed out loud with pursed lips, before shrugging. “Nothing special. I’m pretty sure all of her progress is tied to her bloodline. She certainly has quite the strong family. Strong genes, if you catch my drift.”

‘Definitely from Old B’s side,’ he thought bitterly, nodding at the woman and making his way out as fast as possible without bringing attention to himself from the cold freezer.

The green witch simply shook her head, grinning from side to side as things finally started to get more intense.

She needed to plant that small seed of doubt so everything could start to grow and stretch out some roots of chaos on the too comfortable Maximoff. It was very exciting for her to see how her new favorite pet would be able to manage the new obstacles coming on her way.

But nothing that the girl couldn’t handle, she even had some help on her side without noticing.

And, Rio still needed her to find her things.

All according to the plan.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

“I’m honestly surprised he’s still standing.”

Conner scoffed, scraping out his food plate in the trash can. “More surprised that Damian didn’t hose him down the moment we got here.”

Barbara smiled as she sipped her coffee, sitting at the main table that was low enough for her wheelchair, letting her gaze wander off to the young man who began to clean up his dirty dishes in the sink.

Both of them had arrived early in the morning at the manor, with Barbara getting there first and then followed by the younger titans.

She had gotten asked by Dick yesterday to meet up for a relaxing outing that day in the evening along with his sister, thinking it would be a great way to bond and spend more time with the younger girl.

Since said girl seemed to prefer talking with Barbara over Dick himself, judging by their last interaction earlier that week. Barb found it hilarious how Dick was clearly trying to get her attention just to get ignored by a very talkative girl that was set on asking Barbara tons of questions.

If Barbara was being honest, she thought Dick was making the wrong move.

He couldn’t just force her to spend time with him, especially if he was using Barbara as a middle ground, which pissed her off to no end. Did he honestly believe he wasn’t being that obvious?

Was she going to follow along with his plan? No, obviously. If he wanted to fix his relationship with his sister, he would have to do it on his own and earn her trust back with his blood and sweat.

She was not helping him out in this, not this time.

Besides having sent Dick a text saying that she was going to be busy during the day, Barbara had also come to the manor with other intentions.

Something was up with Cass, and she was worried.

The girl had been acting odd on patrol, something that seemed to only be detected by Barbara and Bruce.

Looking over her shoulder every minute. Her vitals spiking on the screen whenever a noise was heard in the background. Hearing the sharp breath intakes as she heard a group of girls passing by on the street. Sudden moments of stillness on her tracker, and when Barbara pulled on the body camera, Cass’s position showed her the view of a music store where a soft piano melody played to attract customers.

Maybe she needed a break, to get some time out of the house. And Barbara was more than willing to offer that if it meant avoiding strangling Dick by the neck.

“Don’t you think the case has been taking too long?” Conner’s voice got her attention, responding with a hum. “Usually, they would have been done with it after a few days.”

The young Kryptonian had gotten here about half an hour after Barbara, with a muttering Tim in tow, going directly to the Batcave with most of the recently made coffee in his giant mug and leaving his friend without another word in the kitchen.

To which Alfred extended him the invitation for breakfast, trying to excuse his master’s rude behavior. Conner refused at first, knowing the dark knight wasn’t exactly fond of his presence, but the butler had already served him a plate and disappeared into the halls without another word.

Barbara shook her head, a wry smile on her lips as she leaned back on her chair. “They’re a bit… focused on other issues at the moment.”

Conner gave her a short look before biting inside his cheek, eyes focused on the sink. His fingers flexed on the edge of the counter. I took a few moments of silence before he decided to just be straightforward.

“Is it about their sister?” his tone was hesitant and low. Taking a glance towards the hall and looking back at Barbara with expectation.

“Did Tim mention anything?” She asked, shifting her body a bit towards Conner.

The boy shook his head, drying his hands by wiping them against the rough material of his jeans (like a heathen-) and walking towards the table. “No, but he seems to forget that I have sharp ears, and he has a habit of muttering to himself out loud.”

Barbara nodded, sighing softly as her fingers wrapped around the warm cup while Conner leaned his crossed arms on top of the back of one of the chairs.

“It’s complicated,” she offered with a shrug. “I’m not sure if I should say it, but she was recently in an accident. It has been a bit tense, as to say-”

The squeaking of sneakers running down the hall made both of them look towards the source of the noise. An understanding look between them, making it clear that their conversation would have to wait.

Then, the same person they had been talking about made her appearance, her excited manner settling down for a moment when she realized there were people in the kitchen.

Connor’s first thought, from the moment he set his eyes on her, was that she looked completely different than what he had pictured in his mind.

There were very few articles on the internet about the blood daughter of Bruce Wayne. Most of them were from tabloids that made sure to put her in a bad light for the public. He had heard many rants from both Lois and Clark about how unprofessional and cruel it was for Gotham media to hound such a young girl from an early age. And he had heard even more angry rants from Lois about Bruce’s lack of action on the situation.

Most of the pictures taken of her were either blurry, unflattering, or showing a spooked expression due to the flashes of the cameras.

Much of what Conner imagined about her was a very socially awkward girl who probably preferred to avoid the spotlight.

The girl in front of him was brighter than the spotlight.

Wild, long curls pulled in half-up style with a few strands purposely framing her face on the sides. Her roots with faded black hair dye, letting him wonder what her true hair color was like. A white short top, accompanied by an open green track jacket and wide-leg pants. White old sneakers that stood out because of the silver tape surrounding the bottom and edge of the shoes.

“Didn’t know we had visitors today.” She muttered, a smile returning to her face once she realized Barbara was there. The redhead returned her smile, motioning for her to come closer, and both of them hugged quickly.

“I like the style! Going out today?” Barb asked, holding back a tick in her eye as her mind began to put some pieces together.

“Yeah,” she answered, glancing at Conner for a moment and going towards the kitchen to serve herself a plate before Alfred appeared to do it for her. “I’m gonna hang out with my friends today.”

Connor could hear Barb’s heart rate going up, her smile tightening. He could only imagine what was angering her so much that it made her act like that.

That was when his ears picked up a sound similar to the fluttering of the wings of a hummingbird. Fast paced, almost like a buzzing sound.

“Any plans you guys have?” Barbara’s question snapped him out of concentration, his eyes landing once again on the girl as she took a seat with a serving of eggs almost as big as his daily meals.

She shrugged, taking a few quick bites from the plate as if it were her last meal. “Shopping at the mall. Bobby and Warren are picking me up in a few minutes.”

“Which was why I insisted on getting you up early, my dear,” Alfred’s voice took their attention. An amused look towards the girl’s plate as she grinned at him with a shrug, diving once again into her food. “I would prefer you go out with a full stomach, since who knows what ungodly hour you plan on coming back.”

“I promise to be here around ten, Al.” She recited as if it had been something she had heard multiple times, making Barbara and Alfred chuckle.

“As long as you give daily updates, I don’t mind the hour.” He said, bringing her something to drink as she finished up her plate. “Just be mindful and careful of your surroundings.”

“Will do,” She nodded, giving him her plate and drinking from her cup of juice.

“Didn’t take you as the shopping type…” Conner muttered, gathering the girl's attention, her eyebrow quirked in confusion.

“And you are?” Her tone wasn’t hostile, but it was sharp enough to make Conner adjust his posture, flushing as he took his arms off the seat and offered his hand.

“I’m Conner.” He uttered, smiling when she took his hand. Ignoring the sudden rush under his skin when she let go, that hand went directly to rub the back of his neck. “I’m Tim’s best friend.”

“Huh,” she nodded, getting up from her chair. “Thought you were new sibling, since you kind of fit in all the requirements…”

She gestured at him, making Barbara snort and Alfred call her in an exasperated tone to which got a laugh out of everyone. The girl took her drink and walked to the sink.

“No offense, but I think this family has enough testosterone for a lifetime.” That made Conner snicker, avoiding the pointed stare from Barbara by getting closer to the kitchen counter.

“I’m not exactly Wayne material.” He offered, noticing the short and quiet scoff under her breath. Along with the muttered lines ‘neither am I’ that got him frowning and intrigued to ask her more questions.

But that was pushed aside when the sound of beaten-up speakers blasting some Ariana Grande song from the outside was heard pulling up to the front of the manor.

“I believe that would be Mr. Drake, my dear.” Alfred pointed out after a moment of silence, handing her a small towel to dry her hands.

She quickly dried herself, giving Alfred a short hug and then giving Barb one as well. “I’ll text as soon as I get to the mall,” she promised, starting to walk towards the hall.

“Remember,” Alfred pestered, his voice rising. “Be mindful and be-”

“And be careful, I got it!” She laughed, turning around and walking backwards and blowing him a kiss. Alfred shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Then, she waved at Conner. “See you around, Conner. Don’t become a Wayne while I'm gone.”

Conner looked at Barb in disbelief, sputtering before speaking in a higher pitch. “I’m actually a-”

The sentence died in the air because she was already gone from the hall. The front door closing echoed on the walls, just as the loud music from the outside started to pull away, along with some laughs and cheers.

“...Not sure what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting that,” Conner muttered, making Barbara sigh with a smile.

“She is like a whirlwind now.” She mentioned. “It wasn’t like this before, it's a new development.”

‘Yeah, so I figured.’ Conner’s mind exclaimed.

She just came in, ate, made an impression that Conner was sure would stay in his mind for a while, joked around, and left without another word.

A tornado would be a more accurate description.

“Word of advice?” He nodded at Barbara, shoving his hands in his pockets as Alfred cleaned up the kitchen, pretending he wasn’t listening to the conversation.

“Keep your eyes to yourself. Especially for now.” Barbara’s gaze became serious, making Conner tighten his jaw.

He tried not to feel offended at the implication of her words. He knew he had a reputation of being a bit of a flirt (all in fun! He had never actually gone beyond flirting with anyone. Not enough time for commitment to relationships.), but he had respect. And he respected Tim a lot. He was his best friend and trusted him completely (No matter how odd he had been behaving lately), and Conner wouldn’t dare mess around with his sister of all people.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about her. Intrigued, even.

Why had Tim never talked about her? They were around the same age, if he was judging well. They probably shared something in common.

Was she in the family business? It didn’t seem like it, she looked like a normal civilian from his point of view.

Why wasn’t she in the family business?

Now that he thinks about it, the whole family barely mentioned her in the past.

Barely, as to say never at all.

Something was up, but he was smart enough to know that it wasn’t his call to make.

“I'd rather keep my eyes in my head for now, thank you.”

For now.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Around 1:30 pm, Maximoff had decided that the mall was one of her favorite places to hang out.

Gotham Mall was like a time capsule, stuck in the glory days of the eighties, by the state of the artificial lights and that distinctive smell of cherry cola and bubble gum that got stuck on your nose and made you dizzy until you got used to it.

Stores of all kinds: clothes, shoes, high-end and low-end brands, jewelry, sports, toys, swimwear, video games, and even movie rentals. There was also a movie theater, a roller skating rink, a few music and record shops, an arcade, and a whole top floor filled with food places.

Warren had taken the role as their guide since Bobby had only gone to a few stores, and Maximoff… well, she was another case.

Wayne had also decided to stay back at the manor once again, malls were not really her thing. And, she had another ‘unfinished task’ that she had to do by herself.

Maximoff knew exactly what that meant, and she was more than okay with staying away from the manor while her companion did her own thing.

Just because she was friends with a ghost, it didn’t mean she liked being around spooky, haunting stuff.

Wayne had her hobbies, and she respected them… from afar.

“What about Aquaman? He’s kind of cool.”

Warren gave Bobby a deadpan stare, who was sipping on his milkshake with an expectant look. “Do I look like the type of guy that would be a fan of Aquaman of all people?”

Bobby shrugged, stealing fries from Warren’s plate to dip them in his sugary drink. “You’re asking the wrong person to judge by appearance.”

“Right,” Warran nodded, dragging his plate closer to him. “Should have known by your horrible taste in pants.”

That got him a pout from the freckled boy, “I have good taste in pants!”

“You only wear jeans, Bobby.”

“They’re comfortable!”

After visiting stores for almost the whole morning, the trio finally decided to eat at the food court. They settled on Bat Burger. Sadly for Bobby, Chili’s was way too full, and Maximoff was halfway through a low-sugar episode and needed food fast.

They sat in a booth, all their bags shoved on the corner of the side where Warren had taken his spot, plastered against the crystal window that gave a view to the sidewalk of the mall just by the electric stairs, while Bobby and Maximoff sat on the other side of the booth.

She had dozed off by staring at the view, her headache settling after scarfing down around ten orders of burgers and fries, two jumbo sodas, and three vanilla milkshakes.

The boys could only stare in amazement and disbelief while she basically inhaled the food as if someone was going to steal it away from her.

They started some small conversations about mindless themes. About school work, the current films in the theater, the amount of clothes that they bought (well, more like Warren bought for everyone. The moment he found out Bobby was going to use the savings from his scholarship, and that she forgot to bring her credit card [Apparently, Wayne did not have a credit card. Alfred was the one doing all of her money transactions, which was… weird. He had given her some cash for the trip, but she had forgotten the money back in her bedroom.] Warren had slammed down his black card without another word and even dragged them to the high-end stores and went nuts with paying them new sets of clothes.) and many other things.

Which led to their current subject.

Favorite superheroes.

Bobby had brought it up first. Since he was from New York, Metropolis, to be specific, he had a very obvious preference for The Man of Steel. He had even gushed about getting to see him fly by once because of a nearby fire in his neighborhood.

It would fall short to say that Bobby was a huge Superman fanboy. (As if those ten minutes of probably the longest description ever heard about the hero’s appearance weren’t clear enough.)

This put Bobby on the hunt to figure out who Warren’s favorite hero could be, since the blonde wasn’t interested in giving out such information so easily (meaning, he was making Bobby guess).

“We already discarded the local heroes,” Bobby groaned, “and Flash, Green Lantern, and Aquaman are also out. You’re giving me nothing, War!”

“Get creative, Boo,” He snickered, drinking from his soda with a smug look.

The brown haired boy sank into his spot with a grumble, crossing his arms and glaring at Warren, who winked at him with a cocky grin while biting the plastic straw of his cup.

Bobby then gave his attention to the now food-coma girl beside him, sipping on her milkshake absently with a faraway look as her head lay back against the red cushion of the booth. “Give me something to work with, babes. I need content!”

She rolled her head towards Bobby, still sipping from her drink. “What could I possibly offer?”

“What about your favorite hero?” Warren asked, his eyebrow quirking while Bobby jumped on his seat and grinned with expectation, his attitude switching once again.

He did not wait another moment to begin listing off heroes. “Any of the Bats? Maybe a Supe? Oh, how about Wonder Woman?!”

She stayed silent for a few moments, humming to herself while biting on the plastic straw with a frown.

It hadn’t crossed her mind. The whole hero thing.

Her mind was still very muddled. She knew certain things. Basic stuff. And even more, because of all the show references and quotes she says on a daily basis. But where did she learn them from? It came and went, however, it felt like it. Most of the time, it sat on the tip of her tongue. So close to saying it and acknowledging it, but never fast enough to process it. Letting slip right past her.

Which was why having Wayne as a guide was extremely helpful.

Even if she omitted certain information.

Maximoff would never push her to say anything Wayne didn’t want to share. That girl had had enough of shoving and pushing for a lifetime.

Part of that missing information was about heroes.

Wayne was…avoidant about them when the subject was eventually brought up by Maximoff. It was expected, since she had considered that Batman could be of help in some way. He was a hero (vigilante, but it’s basically the same, right?), and heroes were good guys and helped out people. It was logical.

The hellish screeching and crashing of Alfred’s old Chinese teapot was a clear indication that going for Batman’s help was a big no-no.

Maximoff still tried to research them (she wasn’t going to go around Gotham without knowing about its protectors), and she found their whole dynamic unique and that they somehow still made it work to keep the city protected from bad guys and criminals.

Kudos to them and their work, but she wouldn’t place any of them as her favorite hero.

Don’t get her wrong. They were doing good work, and their suits looked sick and cool, judging by the pictures going around the internet, taken by bystanders throughout the years whenever any of the vigilantes let themselves be viewed by the public.

But, they didn’t strike a chord with her. None of them stood out to her enough to catch her attention.

“I don’t know,” She mumbled, finally taking out the disfigured straw from her mouth. Her gaze moved towards the view of the mall, fingers tapping around her empty cup. “No one calls my attention.”

“C’mon,” Bobby insisted, “There has to be at least one that is your favorite.”

Warren hummed, giving her a furrowed look, “Are vigilantes not your style?”

“Are they yours?” Bobby quipped back, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, nice try. Still not telling you my favorite.”

“Ughh, you’re so boring! Just give me a hint! A tiny one! Anything, ple-”

“Flash.”

The boys turned their heads, both looking at her, confused at why the sudden mention of the speedster hero. She wasn’t even looking at them. Her stare was fixed on the outside view, her eyebrows twisting in a frown as she adjusted her slumping posture to an upright one.

Bobby was the one who talked first, taking advantage of Warren’s diverted attention to steal more fries. “The Flash? Guess it fits you! Fastest man alive, you like to run, and you’re rather fast while doing it too-”

“Not The Flash,” She interrupted him, getting up from her spot and sticking her face to the glass. “I meant a flash.”

Warren got up from his seat, going around the booth to see right behind her point of view, while Bobby scarfed down the leftover fries and looked over her shoulder.

From the first floor of the mall, a series of camera flashes pointed at the food court floor stood out from their view. It was almost impossible to see the people behind the cameras due to the numerous flashes popping up quickly.

The moment a few of those flashes started to move towards the electric stairs, Warren cursed and quickly began to pick up their bags, shoving a few in Bobby’s hands and pulling him out of her way. She instantly moved and picked up the last bags, leaving their discarded trash on the table.

There was no time to clean up, sorry!

“Dude, what is going on?” Bobby questioned as Warren ran out of the fast food place with the others following him closely behind.

“Of all the things that could have slipped my mind,” The blonde muttered angrily as he guided them in the opposite direction of the electric stairs. Some yells and calls of the people with the cameras made Maximoff look over her shoulder, glaring at the annoying flashes as those people continued to take pictures of them while taking the stairs.

The words began to register in their ears.

“It is them!” “It’s Worthington!” “Quickly, they’re getting away!” “Just a few pictures, sir!” “It’s that Wayne?!” “Miss Wayne, look this way!” “Please, let us ask as few questions!” “Wayne, what are you doing with Worthington? Are you friends? Is it a setup by your fathers?” “Who is the other boy? A friend of yours?” “Miss Wayne! Mr. Worthington!”

“Oh god,” Bobby gasped, suddenly accelerating his step as a mob began to form. “Are those paparazzi?!”

Warren took a right, their shoes squeaking against the polished floors and yelling over his shoulder. “Bloodhounds without souls would be more accurate, but yeah!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” She repeated over and over again, easily taking the front of the group, with Warren just behind her and Bobby at the end as they skipped the passersby with excuses and apologies.

Now it made sense why Wayne didn’t like malls.

“Go for the normal stairs! Left side of the hall!” Warren yelled, looking over his shoulder to make sure Bobby was still with them.

Bobby was struggling with switching the bags to his left hand while running, glancing back at the paparazzi, and cursing when he noticed how close they were. He finished moving the bags, his right hand now free as he searched in his jeans pocket and pulled out his car keys.

“War, catch!”

Warren caught the keys, pulling the girl back by her jacket before she took the wrong corner, hearing Bobby’s yell and making her look back at the chaos.

Everything suddenly moved in slow motion.

The mob was almost catching up to them, the cameras flashing slowly, and the people moved as if it were zero gravity, and slowly. So slowly, to the point they almost looked like those stop-motion figures for films that were still getting put together for a scene.

Bobby had stumbled with a rack of fabrics that was on display outside a store, the cloths floating around the air and blocking a few cameras from their view.

Bobby, who was with one knee on the floor and a hand about to touch it, looked panicked and pale.

It made her sick to the stomach.

Without thinking too much, she ran.

And it was like never before.

Warren’s grip on her jacket slipped off with ease the moment she took off. It almost felt like floating when her feet made contact with the ground, a sharp ringing in her ears getting pitchier and pitchier, but she put no mind into it. Her free arm shot out to the front, reaching towards Bobby’s arm that was near the ground and lifting him with ease. His weight was almost paperweight in her hands.

Still cold, even colder than before, but still very light.

Once she got him upright, she almost dragged him towards Warren, linking their elbows together without looking back at the paparazzi.

Reaching the stairs was like walking on the moon.

Going down them felt like jumping on a trampoline.

The parking lot was right in front of them, the moment everything came back to normal.

It took a few seconds for Bobby and Warren to fall to the floor and heave out so they wouldn’t throw up their food. Panting and groaning with their eyes closed, faces pale, and fingers trembling.

Maximoff was on some kind of euphoria, skin tingling, and ears blocked by the ringing that grew quieter little by little.

She felt so fucking good.

“Oh. My. God.” She uttered, a cackle of disbelief slipping out of her grinning lips.

The adrenaline. The motion. The ringing. The blood pumping. It all felt so good. It felt so right.

“Did you guys see that?! Did you see it?!” She turned towards them, eyes glinting in excitement and glee.

“I think I went blind,” Warren babbled, on his hands and knees with his bags scattered around him.

Bobby wasn’t any better, all sprawled out on the asphalt, tummy up and taking deep breaths. “Where am I? Am I dead? Is this hell?”

“That was fucking insane! Everyone was moving so slowly! Everything was frozen, and when I moved, it felt like floating! It was so freaking cool! I don’t know how, but- Ow!” She began to explain, hands moving around in exaggerated and fast movements and gestures, until she winced out loud due to a sharp pain in her right hand.

Her palm felt like burning. A cold type of burn. It was cold to the touch, the skin was numb and a bit red. Some flakes of frost began to melt down her hand, making her shiver from the freezing sensation.

Warren had gotten up from the floor, stumbling a bit with his long legs before reaching her, taking her hand carefully and looking at the skin with a frown. Bobby had sat up, looking at her with wide eyes, concern, fear, and confusion on his face as he held his right arm close to his chest.

His arm was blue.

Ice cold blue.

It looked like it was made of glass. Of Ice. Transparent around the edge and deep, cold blue in the center.

That had been the arm that she had grabbed.

“It’s an ice burn,” Warren muttered, disbelief written all over his face, looking between Bobby and her. “But it’s speedrunning through the healing-”

“Are you okay, Bobby?” She asked, taking her hand back from Warren and stepping towards Bobby, who looked spooked and on the verge of tears.

He gasped shakily, not being able to choose between shaking his head or nodding. His shoulders were trembling as he got up from the floor, stumbling a bit and flinching when she grabbed him by the shoulders to help him settle.

“...you’re not afraid?” He stuttered, eyes not moving from her hands, still remaining on his shoulders.

Maximoff frowned, shaking her head while Warren came closer to them, looking around to make sure nobody was watching them.

“Why should I?”

“I hurt you.” Bobby took a shaky breath.

“You didn’t mean it. It was an accident.” She said, reassuring him softly, fingers gently grasping his cold arm. It had changed back to his normal pink skin, still cold but not like before.

Bobby just looked at her before nodding slowly, gulping down some saliva. They stayed like that for a while, until Warren rattled their scattered bags while picking them up, gathering their attention. “We gotta move. The paparazzi are still around, and they’ll love getting their hands on this news material.” He gestured to the three of them.

Somewhere back on the mall, a complaining mob of paparazzi was questioning how they could have lost view of the kids for just a few seconds, get tangled on a bunch of fabrics, and slipped on a random patch of ice.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Patrol night did not go so well Dick Grayson.

He had gone to Bludhaven earlier in the week, having to commit to his day job despite the current family crisis happening back at the manor. If it were for him, he would have stayed in Gotham and spent more time around his little sister, had some heart-to-heart talk with her, made sure those boys bothering her remained far away, and everything would go back to normal.

But reality had to strike him and make him go do his work back at home.

Hours upon hours, paperwork after paperwork. Days dragged on and on, boring him and making him lose his nerve more than once around his coworkers back at the police station.

Why should he be around these idiots when he had a bigger issue going on?

He was very tempted to turn in a small leave. Just for a few days. He was confident that in just a few days would be enough to solve the issue.

Nothing beats a good quality time with his precious sister, so she would let down her guard and confess that all she needed was her favorite brother to give her some care and attention. Beg him to take her away from those mean boys and that dreadful school with even more dreadful teachers.

And he had gotten that leave! Two beautiful, long weeks back in Gotham sounded heavenly to him.

If it weren’t for Bruce dragging him back on patrol because ‘crime never takes a break’.

And God, was last night’s patrol just awful.

The comms were failing, pure static was heard, along with the channels getting switched around every five minutes. He tripped so many times on bare air or sudden wet patches on the rails and edges of buildings. Not to mention the absence of the two younger vigilantes of the clan, who apparently were off that night by their own volition and command, if Bruce’s scowl was enough of an answer. And lastly, Jason finally decided to make an appearance the moment Dick fell flat on his back from a firescape.

He still felt sore, no matter how much ointment Alfred passed over his back before he fell dead asleep in his bed.

The deep tiredness in his bones didn’t let him get up from his bed until the afternoon of the next day came around. Sleeping right through Barb’s calls and texts without a care in the world.

His sight was blurry, still heavy with sleep, slipping closed, and unaware of his surroundings. The silk sheets cool against his skin and limbs. The soft cushion of his pillow made it harder to lift his head and finally get up from the bed. The cold drops of water, hitting his forehead every once in a while-

‘…Drops of water?’ His mind supplied quietly.

A quiet moment passed by until he felt another drop hit his skin, sliding down his temple and sinking into his dark hair.

Then another.

And another.

And three more followed, one after another.

Dick tried to move his head away from it, but for some reason, his head remained on the same position.

More drops fell over him.

Starting to get annoyed, Dick tried to lift his hand to wipe away the water just to find out he also couldn’t move it. With a knot in his stomach, he tried to move his other hand, but the result was the same as before. It felt like they were pinned to the bed by weights.

The next drops dragged out grunts and whimpers out of his throat, a pressure on his jaw similar to the grip of long fingers keeping him shut.

His body felt so heavy, it was suffocating. As if boulders kept his lungs trapped under their weight. His legs and arms were constricted by cold hands with sharp nails that scraped against his skin and gave him a very unpleasant sensation, breaking shivers and goosebumps all over his body.

‘Get off Get off Get off Get off Get oFF GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF-’

As if his thoughts were heard, an ear-piercing shriek that seemed to resemble a butchered laugh got him snapping open his eyes.

Hanging upside down from his headboard, a shadowed figure hovered over him. It’s pale, wet hand gripped his jaw closed, nails digging into his cheeks. Long, drenched, black hair covered its face, the tresses making him yelp as they made contact with his skin and soaked his sheets.

It tilted its head to the side, showing a gaping head wound dripping with deep red blood and a grey eye that stared deeply into his own eyes. The blood continued to drop down it’s face, falling off and staining Dick.

Falling right into his forehead.

It crept closer, the air cold and dead around it while Dick felt tears going down his cheeks. His chest was about to burst in fear, his body drenched in his own cold sweat.

“I thought you liked physical contact, Dick.” It whispered with a horrifying skin-splitting grin right in his face.

Then, the door of his room slammed open.

In the blink of an eye, it was gone.

“Grayson, we need you downstairs right now,” Damian ordered, his frown deepening as he watched the pale man lying on the bed.

Dick sat up quickly, feeling nauseous and head pounding along with his heart beat. He began to pat around the bed, his other hand going over his face as he looked around for it.

All that he found was dry sheets and sweat on his skin.

No blood.

No water.

No it.

“Get dressed, Drake and I require your thoughts on an important subject.” With that, the boy closed the door and went down the hall.

Dick put a hand against his chest, panting as he stood up in shaky legs and stumbled towards his bathroom to throw up all the contents in his stomach down the toilet.

Dark hair disappeared behind the door of his closet.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

“Down the hall, take a left. Room 374. There’s supposed to be a guard outside the door.” A bored nurse said while handing the girl a lanyard that said ‘Visitor’ in bold, dark letters.

Bobby and Warren sat in the waiting area, both dozing off from tiredness after their earlier escapade, and still unsure of how to address the whole success that had happened at the parking lot.

She nodded and began walking down the long white halls of the Psych Ward of Gotham’s General Hospital. It smelled of disinfectant, sterile and cleaning chemicals, making her try not to take big breaths through her nose so her eyes wouldn’t water from the strong smell.

Bobby had been quiet the whole drive, no matter how much she tried to reassure him that she was fine. Her hand had healed in record time, too! She had shown it to the two of them, but Warren stressed that it wasn’t about that at all.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“I don’t get it! I am fine!”

“It’s more than that! You have a mutation! And it awakened in public! Do you know how much trouble that could bring to you?!”

Bobby took a deep breath, driving his truck and muttering to himself while focusing on the road. Maximoff turned to look at Warren, with visible confusion in her expression.

“What mutation? What is that?”

The truck screeched to a stop, rattling everyone inside and making them scream and hold onto something.

Bobby whipped his head towards her, a dry gulp echoing from her throat at the serious expression on his face. He took a deep breath, fingers gripping the wheel before letting go of it, leaving traces of frost where his hands used to be.

“I am your friend,” he began to say. “And we haven’t known each other for long, so I don’t expect you to tell me everything about you the same way I haven’t told you everything about me.”

He waited until she nodded slowly back at him to continue.

“And I know you’re hiding something. Something big, and I won’t push you to say it until you’re ready to do so.”

Warren bit his tongue, switching looks between the other two as she sank into her seat with an uncomfortable expression. Bobby then gave a heavy sigh, his hand going through his hair.

“But not knowing what a mutation is? I’m sorry, but I know for a fact that we have discussed it in class months ago. So I will ask you for only this time to explain to me what is going on.”

The silence reigned over the three of them. The boys patiently waited for her to respond, noticing her shaking leg and wide stare, fingers rubbing harshly on the cuffs of her jacket as she took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

“...I’m not even sure you guys will believe me.”

Warren came up closer, right behind Bobby’s seat, so he could stare at her directly. “Try us.”

She looked at them, lip trembling and shoulders tense.

“I’m still looking for answers. I’m not even sure if I’ll get them. That’s why I’m going to visit Bianca.”

Bobby furrowed his eyebrows. “You mean your mom?”

She shook her head, wrangling her fingers as they began to sweat. “Not my mom. She is someone else’s. She can help me out.”

“So, if we get you to Bianca, you’ll explain what is happening?” Warren asked, voice softer than expected.

“If she gives me the answers that I need, then yes.”

Bobby started up the car once again and drove without another word.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

She was so excited to explain the brain-numbing story of what she had been dragged into.

(She wasn’t)

Maximoff was filled with so many thoughts. It was meant to be a relaxing day! A normal hangout! Disconnect from the reality of her situation and enjoy life a little before heading right into finding answers and get the hell out of Gotham and find Billy, for fuck’s sake-

“Room 374, Miss?” A deep, gruff voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

Looks like she reached the room without noticing. That was fast.

Maximoff nodded at the guard, showing her visitor tag and taking a step back as he indicated to do so. He began to put in a digital code on a lock by the door, the thing beeping loudly twice before a hissing mechanical sound echoed down the hall and opened the door.

“Knock three times to get out. You got twenty minutes.”

That was a weird warning, but she still walked inside the room.

There was a small window that barely let any natural light in, the sun starting to set to give start to the evening and extending the shadows of the trees outside into the floor of the room. A small light bulb on the wall, just above a small and messy bed, made her eyes hurt from the artificial lighting. Her gaze wandered around, taking notice of books scattered around the floor, with pages ripped off and lying all over the place. Odd markings, some scratched on the walls and others made with a black marker, surrounded the whole room.

Kneeling on the floor with her back turned, as she mumbled to herself, a woman in grey scrubs.

‘Yeah, I’m out,’ She thought, about to take a step back and walk out.

But the door closed right behind her, the metallic hiss making her almost tear up on the spot.

“I expected you to drop by sooner.”

A melodic voice said, the woman getting up from the ground and patting her clothes down with a sigh. Long loose curls going down her back, turning around to face the frozen girl by the door.

Before Maximoff, a thin and beautiful woman stood before her. Tall, bronzed skin, a mole on the corner of her left eye, and deep brown eyes that held dark eye bags beneath them.

Wayne’s Mother. Bianca.

She could see all the resemblances between them, with the exception of the height. Since Bianca easily towered over her by two heads. Hell, she was probably around the same height as Bruce.

“Come closer,” Bianca demanded, eyes stuck on the young girl as she took a few steps forward.

Maximoff tried not to step on the symbols on the floor, not wanting to piss off the woman that did not seem in right space of mind.

When she stood a few feet in front of her, Bianca began to walk around her in circles, Gaze calculating and unshakeable, as if Maximoff was some type of fascinating artifact that appeared in front of her.

Long fingers touched her hair, Bianca humming with a frown. She suddenly leaned forward, getting right in the girl’s face and making her flinch out of reflex. The woman stared at her face, taking in her eyes, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, and her lips.

“...Fascinating. You have the same face, but it’s so much different now.” She muttered, eyes softening suddenly around the edges.

Bianca’s hands cradled her cheeks, cold fingers tracing the features with gentleness and delicacy. A sharp breath intake and her eyes watering, the more she continued to look at her.

“Was it painful for her? For you?”

Maximoff made the decision to lie to the woman.

She shook her head, a tear slipping down both of their cheeks.

Bianca took a moment to hold her for a bit longer, letting her hands slip down slowly. Maximoff wiped away her tears quickly, clearing her throat as she scratched the back of her neck with a rough sigh.

“We need your help,” she said. “ We are looking for-”

“You’re looking for Rio’s vessels.”

The woman sat down on her bed, fingers going through her hair and making the curls bounce around with a weird smile on her lips. “She is making you get them to fulfill the deal I made with her, right?”

Maximoff was caught off guard, nodding slowly with a shrug. “Kind of. More like she wants to make the Waynes miserable and gets her precious retribution… or whatever a mafia boss wants, I guess?”

“Rio as a mafia boss? Mother, you’re cute,” Bianca chuckled. “You've got no idea of who is pulling all the strings, are you?”

“I don’t care as long as I can go to my real family.” Maximoff declared, lips thinning.

“It doesn’t work like that, Maximoff.” The woman drawled, crossing her legs as the girl bit her tongue.

How did she know her last name?

“You need the bigger picture to understand what you are getting into, so sit down and listen.”

Since she did not have any other choice, Maximoff sat down on the floor with a grumble and crisscrossed her legs with a frown. Bianca ignored her attitude, moving her feet in circles as she leaned back a bit.

“What exactly do you know about witches?”

“Like Harry Potter?”

Bianca sighed and shook her head, “No, but we don’t have the time to explain all of that. So, let’s summarize a-”

“I was joking! Your daughter gave me the gist of it already!” She quickly butted in, getting a glare from Bianca in return.

“Fine, then,” Bianca rolled her eyes. “Anyway, sixteen years ago, I made a deal with death.”

Before Maximoff could interrupt once again, Bianca gave her a pointed stare that made her shut her mouth closed. With that done, she continued.

“I was expecting.” A nostalgic glint in her eyes. “Twins, actually. A boy and a girl.”

This time, Maximof stayed silent.

“My family had been through a rough path at that time. My parents were no longer with me, and my twin brother had also gone into a life of crime.” She let out a sarcastic, short laugh. “He used to be a lawyer, and I would always say that this city would drag him down with it… and I was right.”

“I was alone, well established in my career as a singer in the opera. And money wasn’t a problem either, my folks left me a good sum, and my brother took care of me from afar. What I lacked was security.”

Bianca uncrossed her legs and leaned forward with a tired expression. “I didn’t want Bruce to know about the pregnancy; he had his problems, and I didn’t want anything to do with his name. The Wayne name is a cursed name.”

Maximoff took note of that last part. Something to look up later.

“So, I summoned Death with a deal. The safety of my children, and she would get her own apprentices.”

Bianca rubbed her eyes with a groan. “That didn’t work out, since one of the twins didn’t make it. He was stillborn. I cremated him.”

“But she survived, that’s like half the deal, right?” Maximoff stuttered, mind reeling with the fact that Rio was apparently Death? How does that even make sense?

Then again, she was not exactly normal either, and she also had a ghost companion, so she should really stop questioning stuff when her day-to-day life was straight out of Casper, the friendly ghost, if it were a teen drama.

“Almost,” Bianca muttered. “In exchange, she gave some vessels to guard while I taught my daughter the basis of witchcraft so she could become Death’s apprentice. And that also did not work out.”

“Why?”

“Because I tried to break the deal.”

“Oh.”

Bianca got up with a chuckle, a weird look in her eyes as she walked around the room. “And Death did not like it one bit. She cursed me, drove me insane, insane enough to make them lock me away in here!”

She began to yell, a maniacal grin on her lips. Maximoff got up from the floor, stepping far away from the woman until her back met the wall.

“You got what you wanted, Rio! You got it!” She screamed out, banging on the walls with cries and yells and claims.

It continued for a bit, scaring Maximoff shitless as she moved towards a corner, dragging herself to the side of the wall as Bianca dropped down to her knees with sobs and laughs. Hugging herself as her nails scratched at the material of her clothes.

“My baby, my baby,” she sobbed. “She was never meant to be for the Wayne name. She was mine, all mine.”

Bianca snapped her neck toward the pale girl, still gripping the wall with shaky legs and trembling fingers. The woman let out a cracking sob, face stained with tears.

“I was never going to be able to see her grow. Not like she was meant to be. Not with my last name. Not with me.”

“But,” she shuddered, “If it was not going to be me, it would be with family. My family.”

In the back of her head, despite the scary situation at hand, Maximoff connected a big, important dot in this whole conversation.

Wayne was never supposed to go with Bruce Wayne.

She was supposed to go with her uncle.

“I signed it. I know I did.” Bianca muttered. “It took a while for me to sign it, but I gave it to Harvey, I know I did! He knew I didn’t want my baby with him, but she was still there and she wasn’t meant to be there-”

What happened next was straight out of a horror movie.

Bianca’s eyes rolled back into her skull, showing only the white part of it. She threw her body back in an abnormal arch as the light bulb began to flicker as if it were a throbbing light. Groaning and moaning words that were either in another tongue or completely gibberish.

She suddenly stood up on her feet, standing on the tip of her toes as she pointed a finger at the screaming girl, following her as she scattered to the door and tried to force it open with her body weight.

Bianca’s head snapped forward, looking directly at her despite the lack of pupils.

“Wheel of fortune,” her voice sounded distorted. “Find the ashes of The Moon beneath the Four of Wands, get The Sun its Hierophant, and reunite with the Reversed Tower.”

‘Oh, fuck this and everything else. Get her out of here!”

With the three bangs against the door, Bianca dropped to the floor as if a puppet whose strings had been cut, groaning and whimpering while the light stopped flickering. Maximoff could hear people yelling outside, recognizing Bobby and Warren’s voices, which made her cling to the door with desperation.

The sudden hand on her shoulder made her scream and jump to look at a completely normal-looking Bianca, despite the scowl on her face.

“Stop yelling,” she growled. Maximoff, feeling a bit dizzy from the whole ordeal, shut up.

Bianca took out a piece of paper from her back (how the fuc-), and shoved it in the girl’s hand, closing it in a tight fist. “I had it written down before you came in. Follow it to the letter and don’t skip any steps.”

Maximoff nodded with a weird sound, feeling lightheaded as the door behind her hissed open.

Before she got dragged out by the guards, Bianca whispered to her an important name with a request.

“Harvey Dent. Find him. Find him and he will make sure the Waynes never interfere with you ever again.”

Find Harvey Dent, huh?

That should be easy, right?

Right?!

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Author's note: I lied, this became over 9,900 words lol. Hope you all enjoy this bc chapter's will not be this long again, I just got really inspired for this chapter and couldn't stop writting. Started summer class last week so hopefully I'll survive. Many things happened and I can't wait to see what are everyone's comments and thoughts! Remember to follow the asks rules and to be respectful!! Lots of love and hugs, GG✨

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