#jason todd slow burn

[super-cerulean]

2. I Took a Chance on Saving Me, That's Not a Front

❄️Master Post: All Parts

❄️Pairings: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

❄️Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Language, Mentions of Mental Illness, Mentions of Depression and Dissociation, Angst, Slow burn

❄️Summary: Following the events of One and Only, Jason Todd's life is spiralling out of control. His best friend is dead, his family thinks he's on the verge of a meltdown, and the one person who might understand is locked up in Arkham and hates his guts. Knowing he's getting to a point where things are going to overwhelm him, he can either let himself react the way he reacts, or he can do something drastic to try and prevent the next Arkham Knight situation. Which one do you think he goes with?

❄️Links: Available on AO3

Predictably, things didn't go as smoothly as Jason tried to convince himself they would go. Something about the silence that permeated his bedroom that night made his thoughts run rampant. He tried to just push through it and busy himself with TV or digging up a case to investigate, because actually putting on the suit when he was like this was never a good idea, but at some point he couldn't focus on any of it. 

He was so fucking overwhelmed, and he had no idea how to deal with it. By then, he was getting desperate and he was starting to find his thoughts dragged back to you. Maybe he felt some kind of kinship with the way you handled your emotions, or maybe he was just grasping for anything he was fixated on that felt less volatile than Roy’s death. Whatever it was, Jason had followed it’s influence and spent much of the night reliving what had happened between the two of you. As he thought, he felt a compulsion beginning to form in the back of his mind. 

It was a terrible idea, that much Jason was sure of immediately. He knew it was idiotic as he'd been hacking into Arkham's network and searching for your files, yet a part of him was a little too hopeful too stop himself. He had to at least try to help you. His conscience was eating itself alive while you rotted in that sorry excuse for a mental health institution. He couldn't give up; not when he was living some semblance of a fulfilling life despite everything he'd done. If he got a second and third chance, you deserved one too. At least, that was the reasoning he was comfortable with for now. He didn't want to delve too deep into how alone he'd really felt and how much he craved understanding from someone else. 

The system was ridiculously easy to get into, and he was pretty confident you were the least of the asylum's problems. He found your record easily, and as expected you were the model inmate. They probably wouldn't even notice if he snatched you out of there, but he wanted to do things the right way...well as right as things can be when he'd be forging documents to arrange for your release. What he was really worried about was getting you to agree to come with him. He was fairly certain that the moment he walked into the same room as you, his plan would be over immediately. He needed a face you didn't know, and someone who he could trust not to get too involved. So, once the business side of things was arranged, he decided to head on over to Gotham academy to spend some time with his newest sibling.

 It didn't take much convincing from Alfred to take over driving Duke home from school. The older man had tried not to be obvious about it, but he was relieved to see Jason in the manor and offering to be more involved with the family. Jason was thankful for that, especially because it meant he got the town car without having to answer too many questions. Things were lining up perfectly so far. 

"Uh…Hi?" Duke furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed Jason was the one standing outside of the school waiting for him, suspicion slipping onto his expression. "You're driving me home?"

"Eventually, but we've got a quick stop to make first."

Duke paused, narrowing  his eyes a little and making a face that Jason knew meant he wasn't going anywhere until he got more information. Honestly, he'd have been a terrible superhero if he didn't question such a shady situation, so Jason didn't take it personally when he had to explain himself more. 

"I have this friend, and I need to talk to them but they're kinda pissed at the moment, so I can't be the first person they see."

"Meaning you want me to trick someone into meeting with you?" 

"Pretty much. I just need a chance to talk to them in private."

"...Where do we have to go?" 

Jason somehow managed to get Duke into the car without having to explain all the gritty details. It was very likely that he wouldn't have gotten in if he knew they were picking you up from Arkham. Predictably, he was a little upset when he found out. 

"Jason, what the Hell do you got me doing?"

"Nothing bad. Like I said, I have a friend I need to talk to."

"In Arkham Asylum?"

"Yeah, but look: I already handled everything, and they're not high profile. It's just walking in and out."

"And by 'handled' you mean you hacked into the system and forged their release, right? Yeah, go ahead and start the car back up."

"C'mon, please? I swear, this person's harmless, and I took care of everything you could get in trouble for. It's just a quick walk in, and walk out."

"Why do you need to see them so badly in the first place?"

"Because…" Jason hesitated. He was asking for a lot of trust from Duke, yet he found himself hesitant to cross that same bridge. Frowning, he tried to find the best way to word the truth to make himself seem less impulsive. "We've kinda got history, and I fucked them over the last time we talked. I owe them a second chance."

"And the reason you said they're mad at you is because of what you did. What was it?"

"…a lot, actually. Enough to want to be in Arkham rather than around me, so." 

Duke hesitated at that, looking apprehensive to become involved in the shit storm that was Jason's relationships. Maybe it wasn't fair of him to ask the younger man to get involved, but Jason needed to be able to do this without the others getting involved. They wouldn't understand and he wasn't confident he could explain it to them. He wasn't wasn't sure if he understood why he needed to see you again himself, but he did know that he was desperately looking for something to focus on besides Roy’s death.

"Look, I know I don't necessarily have the best track record, but I swear this isn't anything crazy. It's just...it's personal and something I need to do on my own."

"Yeah, I get that," Duke said, expression shifting to something closer to pity. “I got you this time, but next time be a little less shady about it.”

"I swear I’ll be more forthright next time. I seriously owe you, thanks."

"You sure do.." 

Jason tried not to show it, but the closer they got to the Asylum, the more anxious he was becoming. He hadn't seen you since the night you'd given him that ultimatum. When he'd shot you and begged you to spare Artemis and the city. He hadn't seen her in a while either, but she had her own problems to deal with. 

Finally, just as it began to snow again, Jason wound the car up the long road to the Asylum. It hadn't been paved nearly as much as the main roads, so he took care in driving slowly through the thick snow. The delayed ascent only made his nerves worse, so he tried to subtly wipe the sweat from his hands. Duke didn’t seem to notice, shuffling his bags out of the way and shrugging off his school blazer. 

"I’ve got an ear piece in case things go sideways, but I doubt you’ll run into trouble," Jason explained once they had parked. Duke nodded, tucking the small device into his ear and rolling his shoulders. He was pretty relaxed for someone who’s been thrown into Jason’s admittedly shitty plan without much preamble. 

Once he was settled, Jason went over the plan with him in more detail. He gave him your name, and instructed Duke to follow Arkham's release process and to bring you out to where he'd parked the car. As they spoke, he turned off the car and stepped outside, making sure Duke looked official enough when he did the same. 

"Anything else I should know before I commit a felony?"

"It’s not really a felony. At least not a serious one. And no, there’s nothing to worry about." Jason may not know everything you got into working for Oswald, but he knew you weren’t a killer. On a good day, at least.

"Thank God. Guess I'll see you on the other side then?"

"Yep. If you need any help at all, I put a panic button in the pocket if the jacket. It'll send an alert to my phone and I can come to your rescue."

"Roger that," Duke said, and with a quick salute he started off towards the Asylum. Jason waited until he was already inside to reach back into the car and fish out a cigarette to smoke while he waited. He needed something to do other than quietly panic. Was he making a huge mistake? He was pretty sure you'd never wanted to see him again after everything happened. You hated him, after all. But was rotting in Arkham any better? The least he could do was let you out. He couldn't force you to let him help, but he could at least give you your freedom back. 

Jason managed to smoke through about half of the cigarette before the doors to the Asylum opened again. He saw the top of Duke's head, and quickly moved to sit inside the car, letting the door hang open. He needed you to get closer before you realized what was happening. 

Duke walked around to where Jason was sitting, looking at him expectantly as you shuffled nearer to the car. Jason took one more long drag of smoke before he stamped it out and stood to face you. His heart was hammering so intensely that he was afraid you'd hear it, and he had to drag his gaze upwards to your face. He expected fireworks; anger, yelling and pleading on his end to convince you not to march right back into the Asylum. You'd always been good at surpassing his expectations though, and Jason wasn't sure what to do with the silence he was met with. 

The snow had lightened it's descent enough to give him a clear view of the parking lot and the shocked eyes staring his way. He wasn't sure what to make of your expression. It wasn't anything near a hateful glare, to which he was grateful for, but the subtle tug of your eyebrows bothered him and he wasn't sure why. Somehow you looked simultaneously exactly the same and totally different. You didn't say anything, but he could hear the echoes of your voice. The last thing you'd said to him and his last words going back and forth in his head like they were playing tennis, and he'd probably have spun himself dizzy if you hadn't finally found your voice in the extended silence. 

"I should have known you were behind this."

 Duke shifted back and forth a bit awkwardly on his heels, and Jason took a quick second to glance towards the car. He caught on quickly, seeming grateful to have his own escape from the situation as he hurried into the passengers side of the car. Jason returned his attention to you once he did, squaring his shoulders and taking a bold step forwards. Immediately you took your own step back, shoulders hiking up almost defensively. Jason stopped in his tracks. 

"Don't. Why are you here?"

"Because...you don't belong in Arkham."

"Yeah, I do," you scoffed, disbelieving. "You know I do, don't act like you don't."

"You made mistakes, sure, but that doesn't mean you should rot in that hell for the rest of your life. I've done shit too, you know that."

"It's not the same."

"Yeah, it is." Jason took another step forward, and this time you didn't move away. He scanned your face, coming close enough to feel like he wasn't yelling at you across the parking lot. He could see you shivering through your coat, and he was sure it wasn't from the cold. 

"I did the shit I did in the past because I was hurting and I know you were the same. I know you're not a bad person, and I know I didn't give you many options-"

"It wasn't your fault." Jason stopped in the middle of his sentence when you spoke up, his own brows coming together in confusion. You dropped your gaze to his feet momentarily, then shifted it up and away from him entirely as you continued. 

"There was nothing you could have done, Jason. It wasn't your fault I felt the way I did and did what I did. I just…I lost myself. I wanted you more than anyone or anything I'd ever wanted in my life, and I didn't know what to do. I still don't." You broke off, voice pitching and you swore quietly. Jason's heart lurched watching you swipe at your eyes impatiently, still trying not to look at him. 

"I don't know why it happened, but all this time I've been here I've just been so fucking ashamed of it all. Nothing I did was okay, and it wasn't okay to put you through it all. And the worst part is, no matter how awful I feel, I still don't regret doing any of it. Because it meant I got to spend that time with you that I had. It's so fucked up, Jesus christ. I hate the person I became to be near you and I hate that I'd probably do it again if I had the chance to feel like that again. So…just fucking leave me here, okay? This is where I'm supposed to be."

He was being selfish. The thought ripped through Jason's mind as quickly and as violently as a bullet, and he felt it ricochet from his head to his chest. His heart hurt watching you. He could only imagine how you felt watching him come back into your life when you felt the way you did. He knew, in every part of his mind that he should leave you alone. If not in Arkham, somewhere far away where you could hopefully heal and forget about him. Yet, he didn't want you to. He could say it was for heroic reasons all he wanted, but really he needed someone around who understood how he felt, and as far as he knew you were the only person who could.

"It doesn't have to be like this. I don't know how or if I can for sure, but I want to at least try to help you. Please, at least let me do that much." 

Your head tilted back, eyes closed as you breathed in and out slowly. Jason didn't move. He was afraid to even breath before you responded, worried about what your response would be. He could see you were tired, likely struggling with the emotional weight of seeing him and dredging up all of your feelings again. He was sorry you had to, and sorry he wasn't strong enough to find some other way to keep his thoughts away from Roy. 

Your eyes opened finally, looking as watery as they had before and like you were losing the fight against your tears. For a moment you just watched him, and Jason was glad he couldn't see his own expression in your eyes from where he was standing. He didn't want to even imagine what he looked like, begging someone to fight for something they'd already given up on for his sake. 

"It'll be okay," he whispered. It could have been to convince you, or to convince himself for all he knew, but it felt like he needed to say it. 

"Fuck," you said eventually. It wasn't an agreement, but it wasn't a denial either. He wasn't sure if you believed him, but you moved towards the car. You were willing to try. Jason hurriedly pulled open the door to the back seat, finally feeling like he could breathe when you climbed in. He shut your door once you were safely inside, settling into the front and buckling in before any of you could change your mind. 

Thankfully, when he glanced at Duke in the back, he was tugging out a pair of headphones from his ears and pushing them back into their case. Jason would have to make this up to him somehow. For being there to help and doing something he wasn't comfortable with for Jason's sake, and for respecting his privacy. For now, he caught the younger boy's eye, and gave an appreciative nod. Duke didn't say anything, but gave a small nod in return. He didn't look back at Arkham the entire time they drove away. In the turmoil of getting you the hell out of there, he'd forgotten how much he hated that place. Hopefully he wouldn't have to come back anytime soon. Not for you, at least, and not for a while. 

The car ride was tense for a long time, at least until Jason had made it back into the heart of the city. Traffic was hellish at that time of day, so it wasn't much of a surprise that the three of you ended up in the middle of a traffic jam, especially with the snow falling everywhere across the city. He wasn't sure what to say to break the awkward air, and Duke certainly didn't have any ideas with the way he was scrolling endlessly on his phone. Eventually, once the silence had seemed like it would stretch on forever, your voice was the one to break through.

"I guess you're not really my parole officer," you said, leaning a bit to get a better look at Duke. "You did look kinda young."

"Yeah...I don't know how any of them believed that," he said, laughing a little. "I'm Duke" 

 Jason didn't say anything as the two of you exchanged names. He hadn't known how to introduce the younger man outside of his name considering the reaction he'd gotten mentioning they were technically brothers or something before. Stephanie and the others had distracted him, but Jason remembered seeing something in Duke's reaction that looked upset at the label. It certainly wasn't his business to pry or push the idea, so he left it alone for the time being. Until he knew more, he'd settle for keeping their relationship general as Duke explained that Bruce Wayne was his guardian now. 

"This is our second time hanging out, actually," Jason offered after Duke had mentioned Jason kidnapping him after school. 

"Interesting second impression," you said, eyebrows raised a little. Jason fiddled with the heat a bit, cranking it up and down after deciding the temperature was probably fine. 

"Yeah. How long have you two been friends?"

"Friends?" You mimicked, and when Jason looked into the rear view again, you looked pretty amused at that. Your gaze cut up to catch Jason’s in the mirror, and he internally cursed himself out for looking away as soon as you did. 

"Is that what we are?"

“We were at one point.” 

“But not anymore?” Duke asked, peering curiously between you and Jason. He seemed caught between wanting to be suspicious and amused by the reaction he'd gotten, watching Jason carefully when he made to respond.

“It's a work in progress.” 

“Right,” you said, and  Jason had a hard time deciphering your tone. Deciding the conversation had taken a tense turn, he reached for the radio and bathed the car in Christmas carols for the rest of the drive. 

Duke was nodding off by the time Jason parked the car. He sat upright once the car was stationary, glancing around and reorienting himself. Finally, his eyes landed on the blue neon sign illuminating the snowy street he’d parked on the side of. 

“A laundromat?”

“Yeah. It’s a lot more clever when you see the inside,” Jason said, as he pushed a sly grin onto his face. You didn’t say anything, rolling your eyes as you climbed out of the car. He turned to Duke when you did, stopping him from unbuckling himself. “Wait here.” 

He left the keys in the ignition as Duke gave a disappointed affirmation, then slid out of the car himself and crossed the distance to the front door, pulling it open for you to slip inside first. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. The laundromat was quiet, as it usually was, with muted ramblings playing on the small TV set up near the back. Jason had been hoping it’d be empty, but unfortunately Gothamites tended to treat the time as a loose guideline, making patterns and routines as they pleased. Naturally, one of the regulars Jason had been hoping not to see was inside. 

Taking up a washer and dryer close to the TV stood one of the nosiest old men he’d ever met. He’d immediately abandoned his enthrallment in the Gotham vs. Metropolis football game to watch the two of you walk into the room, and Jason knew by the raised eyebrow that questions were incoming. 

“Night, Mr. Leoni,” Jason grunted. If it were someone else, the short greeting might have dissuaded them from further investigation. Mr Leoni, however, was hard to shake. Jason was pretty sure he’d been in the Falcone mob at some point with the gritty confidence he always carried, but he'd never really looked into it to be sure. All he cared about now was that the man tended to ask too many questions when Jason came home through the dingy laundromat.

“Yeah, yeah. Pretty late for guests, ain’t it?”

“Don’t you have a game to watch?”

“We’re crushin’ em, anyway. 5-0,” he smirked. Jason watched his gaze shift away from himself, eyeing you instead. “Anthony Leoni; pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Jason scowled, ushering for you to continue walking as you introduced yourself. He ignored the teasing ‘have a nice night’ coming from the other room as he led you through the back room. There was a locked storage room and another door with higher security that led to his current home. The building had been a front for one of Maroni’s gangs back when money laundering was still a literal term. Jason had found it a while back and converted the massive basement into a sort of condo space. The first door required a set of generic keys, but the second was a combination of biometrics and a six-digit passcode. He’d probably need to add you to that eventually. 

“Ah, I get it now: money laundering,” you mused. Jason cracked a half smile as the second set of locks clicked, pushing the door open and moving out of your way. You wandered into the renovated space, seeming impressed with how it looked. Jason hung back by the door for a moment, trying to imagine what would be going through your mind.

“I don’t actually have a spare, so you can just take my room for now.” 

“You know I have my own place, right?”

“The one you tried to blow up?” Jason heard you scoff, despite being a lot further into the room than him. “I think the cops seized that one.” 

“That wasn't my only spot,” you replied, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I'd be pretty fucking stupid to show you my only base of operations and try to blow it up.”

“Valid. But we should probably wait to send you over there until we’re sure the release sticks. You never know when Arkham’s going to suddenly follow the rules and find some competency.”

“If you insist,” you hummed, fingers trailing along the couch Jason would be sleeping on. You stopped suddenly, a dark look crossing your expression. “I can’t tell if you’re being naive or insanely overconfident about all of this.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You seriously want me to live with you? To sleep in your bed, after everything I did and how I felt?”

“Even if you are still trying to kill me, you wouldn’t get the chance,” Jason replied, knowing he was dodging the root of your question. “So I guess I'm overconfident.”

He heard you let out a quiet laugh, and after a moment of consideration, you seemed to decide on following his tangent away from your words. 

“There you go underestimating me.”

“I won’t make that mistake again, trust me.” Jason cringed at the memory of how far into desperation you’d been able to drive him. He tried not to think about how he’d gone from shooting you to kissing you in such a short span of time, or how vividly he remembered doing both. 

“You good here for now? I gotta take your parole officer back home; it’s a school night.”

“I guess so.” Jason waited for further explanation, but by the way you settled onto his couch and flicked on his TV, it didn’t seem he would be getting one. He wasn’t sure what else to say, and he was content with the rocky sort of understanding the two of you had fallen into, so he decided to just head out without another word. 

Duke was still waiting in the car when Jason got back, talking quietly on the phone. By the time Jason actually got into the car, he’d already hung up and was tucking under his thigh. Jason focused on starting the car and running the past few hours over in his head again. It was going way too easy, especially for something so hastily put together and chaotic. He had to be missing something. 

“Alfred said dinner’s almost ready,” Duke explained after a while of sitting in silence. “He asked if you wanted to join us?”

“I probably shouldn’t.” If it wasn’t for the recently sprung arkham inmate wandering around his house, it’d be the scattered thoughts Jason was still trying to sort through. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow anyway, for the tree thing. If I stay too long, they may try to keep me overnight.”

“That does sound like something they'd do,” Duke chuckled. “Seems like you have your hands full anyway.”

“Understatement of the century.” 

“I don't really know what your plan is or who that was, but…if you need anything else, I don't mind helping you out.” 

“I'd have thought you'd run for the hills the next time I asked for a favor after today,” Jason replied, glancing over and catching the strange seriousness in Duke's eyes. 

"I probably should, but it was kinda nice being away from it all. Or at least, around someone who doesn't treat me like a new puppy or a charity case. Believe it or not, I do actually notice that you go out of your way to be chill."

"We all kind of had shitty pasts, but as the resident street-rat turned basket case I get it."

"Yeah, and honestly? Sometimes that's the best thing. Just…being around someone who gets it."

Jason nodded, feeling a light sort of validation settle into his chest. He may have been impulsive in his decision to break you out of Arkham, but at least there had been some sense of logic behind it. A companionship that even Duke seemed to understand as an outsider to the Wayne family dynamics. Maybe that meant Jason wasn't as unhinged as he'd thought he was.

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

part one

warnings: depictions of blood and injury, standard gotham violence, jason doesn't know how to have feelings, reader is angry, threats against readers life, implied concern of sexual assault

It might be a matter of deficiency in self-preservation skills, how the sound of your window sliding open does nothing to phase you. You don’t know if that’s your fault or his.

“How’s it goin’ down there?” You mumble, not sitting up from your position on the couch.

He pushes the window shut in his wake, huffing. “I am up here for a reason,” he says factually.

You crane your head back just in time to see him tug the red helmet off his head, setting it down on your side table. He has on his under-mask that covers the lower half of his face. You don’t like that one.

He glances around your apartment as he approaches with slow steps. “Why are all the lights off?”

“Forgot to turn ‘em on,” you tell him simply.

He frowns at you, confusion evident.

You pay him no mind though, taking an exaggerated breath and pushing yourself up off the couch before trotting over to the kitchen. You open the fridge and scrummage for a water bottle. Jason thinks it’s odd how long it takes you to find one in your own fridge. 

Once it's (eventually) in your hands, you chug down several gulps and toss the half empty bottle towards the counter where it lands with a sloppy thump and rolls.

When you return, he’s leant against the armrest of your chair, watching you. You stop in the middle of the room, a contemplating stare on the floor. He tilts his head at you, wondering what you could possibly be thinking so hard about.

You take a deep breath before plopping down to lay on the carpet all in one go. 

He peers down at you, barely trying to hide his amusement. “You’re drunk.”

You shake your head, “I’m not sober.”

“That’s—yeah.” He stands all the way, coming to lay down on the floor next to you, using significantly more coordination than you had.

He lays in between you and the couch, though it doesn’t seem you’d left him much room. If he minds, it doesn’t show. “What’d you do?”

“I jus’ went out with my friend,” you tell him, closing your eyes. “She moves pretty fast..”

It occurs to him that you might be laying on the ground because you got nauseous. He turns to look at you, scanning you over. “You good?”

“I feel great,” you keen. “I feel…swooshy.”

He gives you a bemused look. “Dizzy?”

You shake your head with a great deal of consideration on your face, “No, not even dizzy, just…swoosh.” You throw out a hand with a theatrical flick.

“Mhm.”

You pucker your lips to the side. “You come here a lot,” you comment, clearly working up to some greater observation.

“You’re in my neighborhood,” he shrugs. 

Your head tilts, “You live here?”

He pauses before correcting himself, “My territory.”

You hum, “Still. There has to be other people around here you know. ‘Specially if you’re passing out on balconies on the reg.”

He frowns, “I try not to make a habit out of it.”

You continue on, “Why do you always go to my apartment? There’s—”

“I don’t always come to your apartment—”

You deadpan, “You’re here like three nights a week. And I don’t even help you that much anymore, you’ve used up my whole first aid kit.”

You can literally feel the eyeroll like you have a sixth sense for it. “That thing wasn’t exactly impressive to start with..”

“Did enough for you, didn’t it? Anyways, my point is: I think you like me,” you say with a nod.

That has him going absolutely rigid, “What?”

“I’ve heard you’re an asshole.”

“What?”

You nod, “Like, people that run into you. They say you’re kind of a dick. You help ‘em ‘n everything, but also while being a dick. Sometimes.”

“Okay...”

“But you’re nice to me. Sort of,” you squint. “I think you like me.”

He hasn’t felt this straggled in a conversation in a while. “I—well I’m not here because you’re a world-class medic.”

You scoff, “There’s no world-class medics..” But then your tone switches up, into something lighter. “We’re friends aren’t we? I think we’re friends.” 

He shakes his head, staring up blankly. “Sure, we’re friends.”

“We’re friends and you like me,” you reiterate.

He really wishes you’d stop saying that. “Okay.”

“I like you too. Even though you’re kinda sketchy.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

You hum into the silence, looking up at the ceiling. “J…James, Jack, John…”

He smiles, gaze dancing across the egg-whitened popcorn texture of the ceiling. “I’m not going to tell you.”

You ignore him, “Jake, Jaden, Jason, Josh, Joe, Jesse…”

You’re about three shots too drunk to notice the way he briefly stiffens. 

“Juuhhh…” you lull your head to the side, the letter fading out slowly as you look into his eyes. If you focus, you think you can make out a few of those little specks of green again.

He seems to already be running his own study on your irises, his eyes now softer than you can remember seeing them before. 

His next words are whispered, the sounds barely escaping. “You’re pretty.”

What?

“What?”

“What?” He seems taken aback by his own words, like he also wasn’t expecting them to climb out of his mouth.

You can literally feel sobriety seeping back into your blood. “I’m…pretty?”

He blinks a few times, apparently trying hard to decide on what position he’s going to take here. “I—well…yeah.”

You blink once, relaxing. “I think…I think you’re pretty too.”

“What?”

“We can’t do this again.”

He breaks eye contact, looking almost dejected.

You turn your head down to where his hand thrums against the carpet. “I mean, I know I haven’t seen your whole face in one go, but I see the top half now and the bottom before, so I…maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.” You reset with a shallow breath, “I don’t know what your whole face looks like.”

“That was,” he blinks, eyebrows raised. “Fascinating.”

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You close your eyes again, though this time you remain facing him.

He feels a slight pang of guilt for the way he continues to ogle at you, eyes tracing over every detail of your face. But that ounce of guilt does nothing to outweigh the reward of gazing upon you. He didn’t mean to say it but he definitely meant it: you’re really fucking pretty.

Your eyelashes flutter for a moment before stilling, a display of peace washing over your features. It’s when your breathing steadies over and your face relaxes completely is when he starts to feel like a creep. It takes a lot of strength for him to force his eyes shut, depriving himself of the view.

And he doesn’t do it on purpose, but after a few moments his inhales and exhales take to the same rhythm of yours. The thin layer of the rug isn’t doing much to protect his back from the hardwood below and he’s pretty confident later he’ll curse himself for lying like this for so long. 

But as he lays, he doesn’t find himself focused on the dark red-gray of his eyelids like usual, so much as the warmth from the proximity of your bodies. He’s usually so concentrated on whatever the hell is going on in his head and it prevents him from really truly resting, but now, the only thing taking up his attention is physical sensations.

He feels this warmth in his heart that if he didn’t know any better, he’d call burning. His hands feel numb and he can distinctly feel the beat of his own heart in his chest, thrumming away.

He presses his lips to your forehead with a feather light touch, slow to pull away. He doesn’t make it all the way back to his original position before his movement lulls and his body relaxes again, joining you gladly in unconsciousness.

Gotham City has a particular gift for inconveniencing you at the worst possible moment and doing it multiple times a week.

Tonight's round of problems resulted in an entire city district getting shut down, the district which is regrettably right between your job and your apartment.

So on top of having to hole up into your work for two hours longer than you were supposed to, it took you an extra 45 minutes getting home while trying to maneuver around every other person in the same situation. And just to cement the quality of this night, the door to your apartment building slams nice and hard against your side and the light in the hallway is out.

You groan when you fail to get your key the lock the right way for the third time, lodging it in a final time and shoving the door open. You flick on the kitchen light and dump your bag onto the counter, kicking the door shut behind you.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed, as you lean your head back against the wall. The second you crack your eyes open again, a pile of red mass on the floor behind your couch catches your attention and startles some energy right back into your chest.

“Oh, shit,” you scurry over towards the window, crumbling down onto your knees in front of him. Your eyes dart across the red helmet, trying to makeout any signs of consciousness. “Hood?” 

There’s no response from him, no movement. You tug his helmet off, finding him eyes-closed with blood running down the side of his head. You push a hand down on his chest armor, shaking him. “J? J!”

His eyes flutter open slowly under his domino mask, adjusting to the light. With the disorientation on his face he looks younger, more his age. His hair is tousled up and you can make out some distinct curls in it when it's undone like this. 

He grimaces, gloved hand coming up to his head. He looks wearily at the blood on his fingers, before plopping his hand back down and blinking up at you. “Hey..”

You sit back on your heels with a sigh, “What the fuck?”

He makes a strained effort to sit up on his own so you try to heave him up by his forearm. As he comes up all the way you glance behind his back at a bag crumpled discarded on the floor. You can barely see some sort of fabric poking out the top. “What is that?”

“Huh?” He throws back a tired glance, “Oh. They're..curtains.”

“Explain.”

He looks at you blankly, “You don’t have any curtains.”

You blink. “Explain.”

“It’s dangerous for people to just be able to look in and see you. So. Curtains.” For a guy who reads Dostoevsky, he’s not much of a wordsmith. Though that could be the concussion. 

You reach around him and pull some of the fabric out of the bag, inspecting the linen. They match the theme of your living room.

You set it back down, blinking. “Thanks.”

He only gives a half-hearted shrug.

You look back at him, “How bad is the…?” You gesture to the side of your head.

He feels at the blood again, “It’s mostly just a cut. Shoulda stopped bleeding by now.”

You nod, “I’ll, uh—I’ll clean it up.”

He looks at you, shaking his head. “You don’t need to. Your kit’s almost empty anyways.”

“I restocked it,” you tell him, rising to stand. He lets you go retrieve your aid box without protest, listening blankly to the faucet run in the bathroom while you’re gone.

You return momentarily, damp rag in one hand, kit in the other. “Here, sit on the couch,” you tell him, nodding him up. 

He lugs himself up off the hardwood and onto the cushion with a groan. You position yourself on the cushion next to him, leaning over to inspect the cut. You brush through his hair as gently as you can, though you have to suspect he wouldn’t have minded either way—if only based on the pain threshold you know him to have.

As much as you are completely in his space, you’re having trouble getting all the access you need to fix him up right. You turn and adjust your angle this way and that but none of it works. 

You huff, sitting back. “I can’t..”

He nods his permission at you without delay, and you shift yourself over to sit fully on his lap, straddling him on the sofa. You put your focus into cleaning his wound, but you have to notice how deep he’s breathing and how he’s seemingly trying very hard to avoid eye contact. You’re sure your own breath is uneven and telling, and frankly you’re kind of hoping he has a concussion just so he might not notice it.

An unexpected sting has him flinching and grabbing your hips on instinct, a certain heaviness lingering in the air after contact. His hand tenses and he’s about to remove them from you completely when you manage to catch his gaze, and the few moments of silent eye contact are enough to convince him to stay. He forces his hands to relax against your waist, his fix on your face wavering before fizzling away completely.

You go back to dabbing at the blood and it’s clear that his thoughts get the better of him quickly. “You should move.”

“But then where would you go?”

He makes a rumbling noise from the back of his throat at that, saying nothing more.

You continue to wipe away at the blood until you can’t see it anymore, beyond the slice of the cut. You misjudge your own spatial awareness as you pull back from him, and the tips of your noses graze. Though the contact surprises you, you don’t move away from it. You become very acutely aware of his touch on your waist, how warm it feels atop your shirt. 

His head leans forward just barely before stopping. He retreats slightly and his body ultimately decides to come closer. He doesn’t stop until his lips, slightly parted, skim across yours.

Your breath catches as he looms nearer, lips touching against yours softly. He tests that pressure out for a moment, before moving to kissing you with more intent. You kiss him back, and though there’s an increasing resolve on both of your parts, the connection itself remains gentle, reposeful.

The last slight movement of his lips gradually slips away as he rests his forehead against yours.

A long beat passes before he’s tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you up to stand. You aren’t given the time to process the shift as he’s moving straight past you, head down. He pauses only when he gets to the window, back turned to you.

“Sorry—I’m…” his shoulders drop, “Sorry.” 

He climbs out and scales the fire escape in total silence until he’s gone completely.

You stand frozen in position, staring at the window with incredulity burning across your face.

What the fuck?

Two weeks pass of voided midnight visits. 

You’re not sure what to make of that. He kissed you, not the other way around. You couldn’t possibly have done something to upset him or throw him off since he’s the only one who did anything. All in all, it’s a little disappointing.

There had been tension there and it wasn’t shocking for you to learn that he wanted to kiss you. It was a bit of a surprise for him to actually do it, though not a bad one. But you were thrown for a grand fucking loop when he immediately bailed out.

Maybe you can’t read him as well as you think because you’d expected him to at least say something about it. It was a borderline given that he would come back and there would be a bonus surplus of tension but then there would be a resolution. Because he wouldn’t kiss you and then never come back. Nobody would do that, it doesn’t make sense.

It’s a little more than embarrassing to admit that you’ve been purposefully staying home in the hope that he’ll drop in. After fifteen nights of disappointment, you decided to put your focus elsewhere.

You’d asked a friend of yours to go out with you tonight, and never one to decline a night out, she agreed happily. 

The bell above the door jingles as you crack it open, peaking your head in. You find Chloe quickly, stood behind the bar with bottles in hand.

“Hey gorgeous,” she smiles at you, waving you in.

You step in, air conditioning hitting you hard. The sparkles on her cocktail dress catch your eye as she turns this way and that, trying to find the right spot for the whiskey. 

Chloe hums to herself as she searches, honestly taking a bit longer than she should. “You been cool?”

You nod, “Yeah, just—you know…” She doesn’t. Your affiliation with the Red Hood is something you’ve kept to yourself, though you don’t know why. It would be safer, more responsible to let someone else know about these drop-ins, but something about it feels personal. A strange feeling to tack onto it, you think. A regrettable one, at least. 

You take a deep breath, “You’ve been busy. Jessie call out again?”

She laughs dryly, “Oh yeah, of course. But it's fine, I love staying over an hour after close.” She sighs, “I’m almost done anyway.”

You circle around the bar, looking over the several yet-to-be-sorted bottles. “You need help?”

“No, there’s—” she cuts herself off as she looks over at the front door, face dropping. “Oh, shit. Duck.”

“Wha—” she yanks you down to the floor to crouch awkwardly behind the counter.

You hear the bell ring as the door swings open, followed by several pairs of footsteps and low voices.

“—Christ, if she forgets to lock the door one more fucking time I’m gonna kill her.”

You look at Chloe through furrowed eyebrows, her grip on you still tight. She shakes her head and puts a finger to her lips.

A second man mutters something you can’t make out.

The first voice continues, “Go around back and lug the crates in, we gotta start packing that shit.” 

Another voice, “The crates? They’re not here..”

There’s a heavy beat before the first voice speaks, “What the fuck do you mean they’re not here? She needs them now.”

“Well…the first shipments will be in later this week. The next batch’ll take until the end of the month, probably.”

A sigh, “Dumbass…”

The first voice huffs, “The end of the month? Are you fucking kidding me? I told you to get that shit ready weeks ago and you’ve got it coming in at the end of the month?” 

“I’ll…I’ll see what I can do to get it sooner.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he grumbles. “Motherfucker. I need a drink. Get a bottle of something.”

One of the men rounds the counter, tracks falling short at the sight of you and Chloe huddled against the counter.

“What the fuck?”

You and Chloe are wide-eyed and frozen as he sneers down at you. Still, he looks like he’s trying to be tougher than he is, compensating for size that he does not have, with an attitude that doesn’t match up with the way he sped around the counter to get the other man a drink.

Another guy comes around and you quickly recognize him as the man in charge. He frowns at Chloe, sighing, “You’re not supposed to be here still, Chloe.”

She shifts her weight, “I was just…finishing inventory…”

The bossman’s eyes move to you, laced with nothing but inconvenience. “Oh and you brought a friend. Great.” 

“Mr. Murray, we were just ab—”

He’s quick to cut her off with a hand, “Chloe. Stop talking.”

Her face falls flat and her words die off without hesitation.

“Get up.”

She’s pushing herself off the ground instantly while you’re still on the floor catching up with what the hell’s going on. As she moves out from behind the bar, you scurry to follow her. Your arm bumps against hers as you fiddle with the seams at the bottom of your outfit.

You dressed to go out with your friend on a Friday night, not to meet three mobsters in a closed bar with no witnesses. That’s to say, you’re feeling a little exposed.

You stand in the center of the bar, the three men looking various degrees of annoyed looks across their faces. Though the oldest looking of the bunch has something else in his eyes as he looks you up and down, in no rush to hide his engrossment in your bare legs.

“How old are you, honey?” Even without the blatant ogling, that’s never a good question to hear from a fifty year old man.

Your eyes avert to the floor, lips pursing. 

“Hey, don’t be rude. I asked you a question.” He nudges your chin up a bit rougher than necessary, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

Somehow, you feel like there’s no answer here that would help you. 

The man at the bar serves as an unexpected saving grace of sorts, muttering, “We don’t have time for this.”

Your pursuer shakes his head, looking you over in a way that makes you feel very small. “I think we got plenty of time.”

“I disagree.”

All heads whip to the doorway where the Red Hood leans against the frame, checking his phone. A never invited but always welcome addition to the party. At least for you.

The man in front of you instantly steps back, putting some distance between the two of you. Hands across the room instinctively fly to holsters only to begrudgingly relax at their sides, probably figuring drawing on Red Hood isn’t in their best interest. Though your focus lies on the bell above his head that didn’t make a peep whenever he came in.

Hood shuts his phone off and puts it away with a quiet sigh before glancing up at the tension-filled room. He literally double takes when his helmet scans past you. You somehow feel more in trouble now than you did two minutes ago. 

“Hood..” the bossman says measuredly. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at you for a second longer before tearing his gaze away. “Just thought I’d check up on you, Murray. Make sure you’re not causing trouble in light of our agreement.” He makes a point of looking back at you and Chloe at that last part before looking to Murray expectantly.

He waves that off easily, “This is nothing. Just two late-shift employees.”

Hood takes a piqued breath. “You picked a bad time to lie to me,” he says flatly.

Murray shakes his head, “Look, we’re just cleaning up a mess. No harm.”

“Really?”

“This clean up benefits you too, they heard too much. The one girl—Chloe, get out. She’s fine, she’s not talking.”

Chloe wastes no time exiting hastily. Bye Chloe.

He continues, “We only need to kill one of them.” He says it like this is an ideal compromise. You’re feeling differently.

Hood huffs, pulling out a gun from his holster. “I’m thinking it’s implied that killing innocent people is a form of causing trouble. Which is in direct violation of our agreement.” He cocks the gun, pointing it at Murray’s head.

Murray steps back dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Hey, an alliance is an alliance!”

Hood wavers his head to the side, “Alliance is a strong word. Temporary tolerance maybe…”

The short man pipes up, “Okay, calm down, calm down. Nobody needs to get killed. We can cooperate.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hood quips, lowering his gun.

The older one shakes his head, “We don’t have anything on her, she’ll talk.”

The short man demurs, “We don’t know that—”

“She saw too much, we can’t have her walking around with that information,” Murray says, moving towards you. 

Hood puts his hands up like some kind of mediator, “Nobody’s killing anybody.”

Murray scoffs, “You were gonna kill me!”

Hood's hands drop as he stands in full, “And I still might!”

Boldly, Murray steps up to him.

But Hood looks down at him, easily a full head taller than him and at least twice his muscle mass. “Let's weigh out your odds here, Murray. Is that a fight you’re winning?”

The look on Murray’s face tells you it’s not and he struggles to maintain this chest to chest confrontation.

It only takes him a moment of wavering to decide to back off, though he sure as hell doesn’t look happy about it. 

Hood pushes past him, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards him. 

Murray splutters, watching you go. “You can’t—I-I know people.”

“I am people,” Hood grumbles, steering you towards the door.

Though you can be sure they have them, no one voices any objections aa he pulls you outside.

His stride doesn’t even falter as he marches you down the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment. Aside from the sound of the breeze wisping past your ears, it’s silent between you.

After two blocks you get the strong impression that this muted exchange of energy is just going to keep on, so you force yourself to find something to rattle off about. “That uh, that seems like something he’s gonna be mad about.”

He huffs, “Yeah, well he can get over it or die so I guess it’s a personal choice.”

You frown at his tone, “What’s your problem?”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say as his head snaps in your direction. “Why the hell are you out here?”

His sharp attitude has you stumbling a bit. “Why are you out here? You have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” he grumbles. “And I just saved your life so maybe complaining about it isn’t your best move right now.”

You try to stop and face him but he doesn’t let you, keeping you moving along with him. “That’s what we’re doing? Really?” 

Are these about the social skills that you had expected from him based on your first meeting? Yeah. But that first meeting was months ago. He’s proven again and again that he has half a brain and the ability to read a room so you’re really not fucking sure what the hell his problem is. He won’t acknowledge that he kissed you and all but jumped out your living room window, but he will snap at you for asking about his concussion that there’s no way he doesn’t have. Especially if he’s acting like this. 

He ignores your comment, blatantly at that. “Did they say anything about a drug shipment?”

This is what we’re talking about? Sure. Fine. At least you’re talking. 

You open your mouth briefly before closing it again, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know.”

He tries again, “What about Nocturna? Did you hear that name?”

“I…I don’t know.” You weren’t exactly taking notes behind the bar counter. 

His head drops down heavily, “Okay, I think I’m seeing a trend for how this conversation’s gonna go...”

You gawk at him, astonished that he thinks it’s you who’s handling this discussion poorly. “You cannot be serious right now.”

He sighs, slowing as you approach the steps to your building, “Just—why’d they let Chloe go?”

You blink a few times, “I mean, she has a drug problem…” You guess that might be where she’s getting them from…

He nods solemnly, “Okay.”

You huff, turning to walk up the steps, shoulders heavy. You hope he’ll come up with you and maybe, just maybe, address the elephant in the room. 

“Are you—” you turn around to face him again, met with nothing but vacant air. 

A deep, tense, breath from you before calling out, “Really?”

One month. One month. And he decides to show up tonight like it’s no time lost. But there was some fucking time lost.

Count ‘em up, that’s one period, two paychecks, three grocery trips, four laundry days, and thirteen showers. And that stupid fucking vigilante ransacked your head during every single one.

You went through the five stages of grief for this bizarre, undefinable relationship and then discovered about six more while you were at it. 

So when you walk out from the bathroom, you’re a little pissed to see him sitting there on your living room floor, helping himself to a glass of water. 

Maybe it’s his domino mask that gives his expression the illusion of neutrality. Or maybe he really has no idea how insane it is that he would occupy your apartment like this after skipping out on you for an entire lunar cycle.

He leans against your armchair, inspecting a scratch on his lower arm. You enter silently, watching him the whole time as you make your way over to the far end of the couch.

He doesn’t look up at you though, not until after a minute or two of silence. 

“You got any bandages left?” he asks, throwing a glance over his shoulder. 

You stare at him incredulously. 

After ten seconds with no response from you, he turns around fully, frowning. “What?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I—” he squints, eyes flickering across your face. “No?”

You continue to gawk at him, not trying for any words.

He stares back, eyes wide. “I don’t know what you want me to say...”

You tear your gaze from him, preferring to stare at the wall. “You know what, I think I know what your problem is.”

He gives a laugh with little life to it. “I only have one?”

You bite down on your lip, “You only have one I’m ready to kill you over.”

He sits with that for a minute. A long minute, before asking softly, “What is it?”

You shake your head, glaring at an unoccupied nail in the wall. “That you’re an idiot,” you mutter. You start to walk away  before turning around again after a few steps. “Where the hell have you been?”

He blinks, “Uh, there’s just been a lot of—”

“Bullshit.”

He’s about to argue his point, but quickly decides to concede, “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, sitting back. “I…wasn’t prepared for this conversation,” he says carefully.

You scoff with a nod, “Yeah, neither was I, but it’s happening. I m—what did you think was going to happen here? I—you kissed me, you kissed me!”

“No I—” he huffs, “I shouldn’t have done that, okay?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He sighs, throwing his hands up at his sides. “What do you want me to say?”

You shrug without genuinity, “Anything that could possibly rationalize that sequence of decisions. You kiss me, run away, ghost me for a fucking month, and then show up again like nothing happened.”

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!”

“I’m not asking you to be sorry, I’m asking you to pick a fucking lane and stick to it!”

He falls silent at that, eyes on the floor. It’s quiet for long enough that you start to think he’ll accept the silence as his cue to leave. You’re not sure if you want him to or not.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed. “I need you to start being straight with me. Now.”

He doesn’t look up, taking his time to find his words. “I am sorry,” he tells you. “I…I’m not good at this. I’m not good with words so I shouldn’t have fucking done it.”

Honestly you weren’t expecting him to actually come up with a reason, so you’re not prepared to weigh out whether or not it’s a good one.

“I like you...a lot. And I didn’t know—I don’t know—what to do about it so I kissed you and I didn’t think it through, and…I guess I panicked.”

That’s more than enough for you to warrant looking back over at him. It doesn’t take long for your gaze to start shifting around awkwardly while you scratch at your neck. “I would’ve taken you for more of a fight over flight kinda guy.”

He nods to himself. “Jus’ depends..” he says quietly.

And then it seems neither of you have anything else to say. You’ve run out of angry words to spit and he’s run out of apologies and excuses. But neither of you feel like you’re done.

The quiet lingers on for a painful amount of time. Your annoyance dissipates into something else, something more uncomfortable, but you couldn’t find a name for it. It’s got your thoughts going faster though and your chest feeling more hollow. Maybe not hollow…maybe just softer. 

He cuts through your thoughts before you can, “Are you mad that I kissed you?”

You shake your head, “No. I’m mad about what happened after.” You’re just mad about what happened after. Should’ve said just.

He thinks about that for a moment. 

“I can be honest with you,” he tells you. The way he says it, it’s somewhere between a peace offering and an assurance to himself.

You look at him again. He reads oddly vulnerable for a man his size with his reputation. You believe him. 

He goes on, “I trust you, you know? I want you to trust me too, if you can.”

You blink a few times, processing. “I…I don’t know anything about you.”

He nods, an anxious aura radiating around him. He leaves you hanging for longer than a few moments, getting you convinced that the conversation is just going to end there.

It doesn’t though, and after a few minutes, he sits up and reaches up to his mask.

It has you sitting up too, like he just pulled out a gun. Your hands fly up instinctually, as though this is completely uncalled for, as if he’s crazy for doing it.

He pauses his movements for a moment, making eye contact with you. His eyes reaffirm his words. He trusts you and he wants you to trust him.

You allow your hands to relax onto your lap and he continues on, taking his mask off.

You’re not revealed to much more of his face than you’d already seen before, but entirely in view like this, he’s a sight. You try not to stare but there’s little reward to removing him from your sight whereas the alternative…

All together like this you can see how his features balance his face out so nicely and make for a warm countenance, if not rough.

He takes a deep breath, setting his mask to the side. “My name is J…” he says with assurance. “Todd,” he tacks on.

You don’t mean to, really, but you’re sure the frown on your face is evident as puzzle pieces start forming and connecting in your mind. 

J…Todd…J…Jay…Todd…Jason…Todd…

Your mouth hangs open, “You’re Jason Todd. You’re de—” Well a couple things are starting to add up. “How are you…how are you not—”

He waves that away, tiredly. “It's a long story. Not particularly happy, either.”

Autopsy scar. Fuck. 

“I mean, I’ll…” he hesitates, “I’ll tell you if you want me to.”

He says it, but discomfort is painted across his face. You’re quick to shake your head, “It’s okay.”

He nods, likely relieved.

You stand up from your seat, crossing the room to sit down next to him. You’d half-expected him to tense up, but his body relaxes when you lean back against the chair.

You close your eyes before asking, “Who’s Nocturna?”

“She’s just this woman that’s been causing trouble for us.”

You don’t say anything and he continues on, shaking his head. “She’s more annoying than anything.”

You open your eyes, looking over. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, “Just trying to take over the underworld, the usual stuff. Nothing you need to worry about.”

You give a laugh that’s barely more than an exhale, relaxing your body completely..

There’s the slightest lull in activity before he sets his hand down on the floor, right on top of yours. The sounds of your breathing are the only thing that fill the room for a few minutes, save for the occasional car horn.

He glances at the clock on the wall, nearing midnight. “I have to go...” He says reluctantly.

You try not to let the disappointment show through your body language. “Go where?”

He pauses before telling you,  “A cemetery.”

You nod vacantly, “Oh. Just for fun, or…?”

He gives a dry laugh, “Just meeting an associate. They’re a bit dramatic, so.”

“Yeah, I’d say.”

“I’ll come back—I’m going to come back,” he mutters against your hairline.

You don’t respond, but you both know he’s good for his promise.

He looks around your apartment for a second before seemingly getting an idea. He pushes himself up off the ground and heads for your kitchen. You watch as he rips a sticky note off the deck on your fridge and scribbles something down on it. 

He returns to you, kneeling down and pushing the square of paper into your hand. “Here,” he says, looking you in the eye. “If you need anything. Anything.”

You engulf the note in your palm, nodding sincerely. His eyes flicker across your face, like he’s thinking about something. He hesitates for a moment, turning towards you, away from you, then towards you again. He holds the back of your head tenderly before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

You look at each other up close for a second with nothing short of starry eyes before he turns away and ducks out the window.

You open up your palm and look down at the paper, at the ten digits scrawled across it.

Huh.

Must be official. 

🧨 reblog or die (this is a threat) 🧨

[diabolichare]

Is this courtship?

Danny is going to Gotham for his scholarship.

Good news! There's another halfa in the city, and he seems to be a good guy. Bad news: the nearest path to his university is through that halfta's haunt. He could take the long way around, but the costs would be more than his budget can handle, and he'd like to avoid dealing with a pissed-off Red Hood.

Hopefully the offerings will be enough to sate his annoyance (and help maybe, god that man has the most malnourished core he's ever seen).

Jason is getting incredibly confused over the strange gift baskets that keep appearing on his patrol routes.

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny Chapters

Batfamily and Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader

Ao3

Summary: One day, after getting fired from your job by your ex, you somehow ended up in Wayne Manor as the family's new nanny. Working with six kids is tough enough, but the handsome, rich, and emotionally confused father, billionaire Bruce Wayne, who is just too charming makes it a bit more difficult as your feelings for him confuse you. Nonetheless, you love the job and the kids, but soon enough you realize that maybe you're falling in love with the boss, too.

The Pilot Pt. 1 The Pilot Pt. 2 9 to 5 (Metaphorically) The Talk Plus One Take Your Nanny to Work Day The Night Time Routine Nanny In the Attic

[miryum]

"Pilot"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Richard Grayson was surveying his detectives, assessing whether or not they were ready.

Cassandra Cain was glaring at her computer, angrily typing away. Dick had to get someone to fix her computer a week ago and he really didn’t want a repeat. But, seeing as she had yet to punch a hole through the screen, Dick was satisfied. Status: Ready.

Stephanie Brown was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she lathered peanut butter onto some bread. Dick couldn’t see the beginning of a toaster fire, so he moved onto his next detective. Status: Ready.

Timothy Drake’s eyes never left his computer as he chugged his fourth cup of coffee. Dick made a mental note to cut him off. Luckily, Tim had gotten a full four hours of sleep last night, so he shouldn’t pass out. Status: Ready.

Damian al Ghul technically wasn’t part of the precinct, but he was a loose cannon nonetheless. From Damian’s phone, Dick could faintly hear the sound of a dog’s bark, and based on the slight upturn of the boy’s lips, Dick guessed that he was enamoured by animal videos. At least he wasn’t causing chaos. Yet. Status: Ready.

Jason Todd was finishing some reports Dick had assigned him, but his eyes kept flickering to the unfinished book on his desk. In the past, Dick had to confiscate books and lock them in his desk drawer to keep Jason focused on his work. Somehow, however, the boy had found a new book, or roped Cass into helping him steal it from Dick’s desk. For now, though, he was occupied with his work. Status: Ready.

And then there was one. Y/n L/n. Dick sighed heavily, preparing himself for the shenanigans she would surely have gotten herself into. Dick’s gaze swept to the desk opposite Jason’s but… Y/n was sitting in her seat, cataloguing evidence. Dick’s mouth fell open. It was a miracle! What did he do to deserve this?! And on today of all days! Dick was silently celebrating when Y/n’s phone chimed and she peeked at it, a grin instantly coming to her face. She slowly turned her head to meet Damian’s Cheshire smile from behind his phone screen. 

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked. Damian nodded. Dick whimpered, pleading to his gods that whatever they were planning would come to a halt. The new Captain was due any moment and he couldn’t risk things not going perfectly. “Terrific,” Y/n cackled. 

Gotham had been gloomy that day, as it always was, but the dark sky was instantly forgotten as the elevator door hissed open and out stepped Captain Wayne. He was greeted by Y/n blasting Hello - I just came to say Hello sung by Lady Aqua on her small, Bluetooth speaker.

“Hello!” Y/n called to the emerging Captain, “And welcome to the sixty-sixth precinct in Gotham! Or as I like to call it, one six away from Hell and the devil herself.” She sang along with the track, “I just came to say hello! Steph! Now!”

Stephanie threw her hand up and let pieces of confetti fall to the floor. “I’ll clean it up later!” she shouted to Dick over the music.

Dick cradled his face in his hands. Captain Wayne did not seem pleased. Dick sighed before plastering on his award-winning smile and striding up to his new Captain. “Captain Wayne. I’m Sergeant Grayson. It’s a pleasure to have you here with us.”

Captain Wayne held a hand up and Dick slowly closed his mouth, his unshaken hand dropping to his side. “I am your new commanding officer, Captain Bruce Wayne. Sergeant Grayson? A word.”

“Of course,” he nodded, following Captain Wayne into the man’s new office. Dick shot Y/n a warning glare just as the music changed to Classic by MKTO. She bopped her head song to the beat, giving her superior a thumbs-up.

Damian didn’t look up as Captain Wayne marched by. After the door clicked shut, the civilian administrator muttered, “anyone else get a gay vibe?”

Y/n slowly turned the music down until it was a hush in the background. She hummed along before stating, “he and I are gonna be besties!” Steph cringed and Jason huffed a laugh.

“Sergeant Grayson,” Captain Wayne stood stoically, gazing out at his new team. “We served together in the fifteenth. How have you been?”

“Good, good. My wife and I just had twin baby girls.” Dick pulled out his wallet to show a family photo with him and Kori cuddling two little girls and grinning at the camera. 

“Adorable,” Captain Wayne barely glanced at the picture. “Tell me about your detective squad.”

“Okay.” Dick turned to stare out the office window with his senior officer. “Damian is our civilian administrator. He… has opinions and can rudely say them at inappropriate times, but the few times he does his job, he’s incredibly good at it. He grew up with L/n and that’s mainly how he got the job. He’s putting himself through law school and is surprisingly top of his class.”

“Damian, I need you to catalogue these files for me,” Cass said.

Damian held up a finger, typing away on his phone.

“Damian,” Cass repeated. 

“Hold on. I need to send a scathing email to my professor.”

Cass hummed and said, “fair. Take your time.”

“Cass is tough, fair, and impossible to read. Her specialty is silence, both in the field and in the precinct.” Dick exhaled, nodding towards the woman’s desk. “She’s brilliant and somewhat terrifying, but we all know she loves us.”

“How long has she been sitting there?” Y/n whispered.

“It’s been eight minutes and thirty one seconds,” Tim said, fixated on his watch.

“Damn,” Steph murmured. “What’s her record?”

“Eleven minutes and fifteen seconds,” Y/n answered automatically. They were all carefully watching Cass who was scowling at the wall. 

“Alright, everyone!” Dick barged into the briefing room and the three detectives cried out in protest. “First order of-”

“Dick! Shut up!” Y/n shushed him. “You’re disturbing Cass! This could be a new record.”

“Wait wait!” Stephanie slapped Y/n’s arm. “She’s still in the zone!”

Y/n gasped. “You got lucky, Grayson.”

“Stephanie is our optimistic cinnamon roll.” Dick beamed and gestured to Steph who was faithfully sweeping up the confetti. “She’s super dedicated to her job and no one can stay mad at her. She’d do anything for this precinct, as we would her.”

“Hey, Tim? Tiiiiiiim… Timmy!” Steph tapped his desk. “That’s your eighth cup of coffee.”

“It’s decaf!” Tim protested.

“No, it’s not. I watched you make it.” Jason pipped up. 

“You’re not helping!” Tim glared across the bullpen. Steph clicked her tongue accusingly, pointing at Jason to help prove her point.

“Fine.” Tim dumped his coffee in the trash. Steph ruffled Tim’s hair before bouncing back to her desk. 

“Tim is a coffee addict. He may be the most academically gifted on the team, except when it comes to his sleep schedule. He’s dreamed about being a police officer his entire life and his face when he made detective… you should’ve seen him.” Dick chuckled, shaking his head.

After Steph walked away, Tim fished his coffee out of the trash and quickly chugged it. Jason frowned at him disapprovingly.

“Jason grew up on the streets. He had a… bad home life and was surrounded by gangs as a kid. He was sure he would end up behind bars instead of putting others behind them. An older officer, Alfred, picked him up off the streets. Jason pulled himself up from his bootstraps and is now here. Contrary to his large, tank-like frame, he's just a kid who loves Jane Austen.”

“There’s a perp running around,” Dick said in the briefing room. “Who keeps breaking into people’s houses and stealing oddly specific items. Certain books, a vase, even a pillow-”

“It's a crazy ex-girlfriend,” Jason called out. 

“What?”

“The owners of the apartments all just got out of a relationship. The ex is stealing things that were meaningful from the relationship,” Jason explained. “The timeline adds up too. The robberies had time in between them for a relationship to grow and foster- a year or two apart.”

“Like your sex life,” Y/n snickered, high-fiving Cass.

“And Detective L/n?”

Dick shook his head, smiling softly against his will. “Y/n is my best detective. She’s always wanted to be the good guy and solve the hardest challenges. The only challenge she hasn’t overcome is how to grow up.”

“Well put,” Wayne raised an eyebrow. 

“Thank you!” Dick mentally patted himself on the back. “I’ve spent a lot of therapy time talking about her. But you can’t tell her that. She already has a big ego.”

“Noted.”

“I’ll need a list of your employees and anyone who has a key-”

Crash! Bang-bang!

“Really?” Jason turned to Y/n who was messing with a mini electric keyboard. “What are you? Twelve?”

In response, Y/n hit a button and a fart noise filled the air. “And I’d like to apologise for my partner,” Jason rolled his eyes. “Her parents didn’t give her enough attention.”

Y/n loudly asked, “if I solve this case, can I get this for free?”

“If you solve this case, I’ll buy it for you,” Jason deadpanned. 

“Yay! We’re looking for a perp with a buzz cut (ew, by the way) and a dragon tattoo on his left forearm.” Y/n stuck her tongue out at Jason. The man just frowned in question. “I have a confidential informant.” Y/n’s voice turned low and menacing. “He spent years in this place, slowly losing his sense of self. Watching, learning, listening… WE HAD A SPY ON THE INSIDE! HERCULES MUFFIN MAN!” Y/n proudly held up a small, fuzzy teddy bear. “Did I forget to mention he’s a nanny cam?” She turned Hercules Muffin Man around to show a camera implanted into his head. Her phone showed a grainy video of a guy breaking into the electronic store. “Oops!” She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Guess I get a piano for my desk.”

“You’re dismissed,” Wayne nodded to Dick who saluted. “Please ask Damian to join me.”

“Yes, boss?” A minute later, Damian stood in the doorway.

“Close the door behind you,” Wayne instructed. “Tell me about L/n.”

“Y/n? I’m assuming you’re inquiring about personal details because I’m sure Richard gave you the professional. Y/n’s in love with Jason.” He shrugged, staring at his new boss with a look that asked Is that what you wanted to know?

“Oh.” Wayne didn’t know what else to say other than, “Does he like her back?” He cleared his throat. 

“I don’t know,” Damian muttered. “I know my best friend, but I know shit about Jason.” Captain Wayne took a breath and excused Damian with a wave of his hand. He rubbed his temples, wondering what he had done to deserve the DA assigned him this precinct.

Bruce set up a photo of him and Clark as Rasputin blared on Y/n’s speakers.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Danny Phantom x DC crossover

Regent!Jazz, Vigilante!Jazz AU

Jazz Fenton/Jason Todd (Anger management or Hardcover ship)

Main Masterlist AO3

Original prompt

Part 1: What’s lost can be found

Part 2: Let the world know

Part 3: If you could’ve seen

Part 4: Show me those issues

Part 5: Dare not preach

Part 6: From the top of my lungs

Part 7: Running from a crucifixion

Part 8: Dressed in all black

Part 9: Left its seeds while I was sleeping

Part 10: Keep me from my grave

Part 11: A thousand candles burn into the night

Part 12: It was just for fools

Part 13: Goddamn when you're young

Part 14: Taking these wounds to their grave

Part 15: We’re all misunderstood

Part 16: But I know where to start

Part 17: The stars are shining their brightest light

Part 18: I'm anything but tame

Part 19: Wrapped in your regret

Part 20: I speak in tongues

Part 21: All the ashes in my way

Part 22: Hold you close for the minute it takes

Part 23: Never as lost

Part 24:

Part 25:

Memes: #1 #2 #3. #4 Social Media Time: #1 #2 #3 #4 #5

The Regent & Red Hood Official Spotify Playlist (Title songs) The Regent & Red Hood UN-Official Spotify Playlist (Inspiration songs)

[slasher-fucker-and-sucker]

Highway to Hell

The roar of the motorcycle's engine echoed through the empty streets as the night wrapped Gotham in its dark embrace. Jason Todd, clad in his leather jacket, the Red Hood helmet tucked under one arm, parked his bike outside the small diner you both loved. The neon sign buzzed faintly, casting an eerie glow over the cracked pavement.

He was late. Again. You sighed, checking your watch and trying to ignore the flicker of disappointment that ran through you. The truth was, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for Jason. The danger, the unpredictability, the thrill—it was all part of him, just like the motorcycle he rode like it was an extension of his soul.

But tonight, you just wanted a quiet moment, a brief respite from the chaos that seemed to follow him everywhere. As if sensing your thoughts, the bell above the diner door jingled, and Jason walked in, his eyes immediately locking onto yours.

"Sorry, babe," he muttered, sliding into the booth across from you. He ran a hand through his dark hair, which was slightly tousled from the ride. "Things got…complicated."

You nodded, not needing the details. His life was a series of complications, one after another. "It's okay," you replied, forcing a smile. "You're here now."

Jason reached across the table, his hand enveloping yours. His touch was rough, calloused from years of fighting, but it was a touch you’d grown to love. He was more than the violence, more than the rage that simmered just beneath the surface. With you, he tried to be softer, tried to be the man he didn’t always believe he could be.

"You don’t have to wait up for me, y’know," he said, a rare softness in his voice. "But I’m glad you do."

"Someone has to make sure you don’t do anything stupid," you teased, squeezing his hand gently.

He smirked, that familiar cocky grin spreading across his face. "Stupid? Me? Never."

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with affection. This was how it always was with Jason—banter and bravado, but beneath it all, a deep connection that words often failed to capture.

The waitress brought over two cups of coffee, and Jason wasted no time taking a long sip. The warmth of the diner was a stark contrast to the chilly Gotham night outside, and for a moment, it felt like you two were the only ones in the world.

"I was thinking," Jason began, his tone more serious now, "about getting out of the city for a while. Just you and me. I know this place isn’t exactly a vacation spot."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Jason wasn’t the type to suggest something like that. He was tied to Gotham in a way that was almost impossible to break. "Where would we go?"

"Does it matter?" He leaned back in the booth, the idea of escape shining in his eyes. "Somewhere with open roads, no one else around. Just us. I could use a break from all this." He gestured vaguely, meaning Gotham, the life he led, the dangers that never ceased.

You smiled, the thought of escaping with him, even if just for a little while, was tempting. "Sounds like a plan, Jay."

"Good," he said, finishing his coffee and standing up. "Because I’m not giving you a choice."

He pulled you up, wrapping an arm around your waist as you exited the diner. The cool air hit you immediately, but Jason’s warmth by your side was enough to keep you from shivering. His bike was waiting, sleek and powerful, just like him.

"Hop on," he said, tossing you the helmet you always used when riding with him.

You didn’t hesitate. As you wrapped your arms around his waist, the engine roared to life, and the city blurred into a mass of lights and shadows as Jason sped off into the night. With him, there was always danger, always uncertainty, but there was also love—a love that burned fiercely, like the engine beneath you, carrying you both toward whatever fate had in store.

[batchilla]

Fata Morgana Chapter one: A Favor Given.

Content warning for some … outdated views on women. Don’t worry, you can fix him.

The tournament of Fata Morgana brought with it all the excitement of a tournament, but given it fell so close to the annual Festival of Cupid, it held more still. For as well as the honour of victory, a gold purse and acclaim, the winner was given a crown of roses, to give to any maiden he saw fit to choose, and to open the Ball of Cupid by sharing a dance with said maiden. Captain Jason Todd, the knight of Arkham, had won the past three years, and each year, the same maiden had been given the crown.

You.

You, the princess, and only daughter of the king of a small yet ambitious nation. You, who while understanding that your affection for the hero of the battle of Arkham, the captain of your personal guard, could never be fully realised or acted upon. You, who had the last three years watched him compete with baited breath hoping to dance with him once more. You, who after he had first presented you the crown three years hence, had given him a favour the next two years. You, who on the eve of his fourth tournament, are sneaking down to where the competitors have pitched their tents around the competition field, to do so once more.

The air is warm, crickets and the nickering of horses punctuated by the occasional voice. They are stoic, not rowdy or drunken, that will come tomorrow when the contest is over. Tonight, the sense of anticipation and solemn preparation lingers over the field. You find his tent with relative ease, it’s blood red fabric near black in the darkness, but his steed is tied outside and pays you little mind as you hesitate outside the tent flap. There had been no hesitation when you slipped past your guards. No hesitation in deciding to come here. Still, you hesitate now, when the only thing separating you from him is canvas, struck with nerves over what exactly you would say to him.

Your stalling is ended by the tent's flap opening to reveal the Knight of Arkham standing there, staring you down looking less than impressed. Your mouth goes dry as the desert.

He stands there in loose pants, and a white shirt with the top eyelets undone to just above the lowest point of his pectoral muscles. His hair is mused and out of order. You feel your breath catch, and it is only your lifelong etiquette lessons that prevent you from doing something completely humiliating and degenerate like bite your lip. Granted you saw him nearly every day, but there was something about seeing him out of plate, seeming so much himself rather than maintaining stoic professionalism.

“Your royal highness, you ought not be here so late - and where is your guard? God preserve me…” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

You try not to stare at the way the action causes his arms to move and flex, or how soft his hair seems. Instead, you force yourself to look him in the eyes, and reply.

“All is well, surely. These tents are filled with knights. Men of honour. I am perfectly safe.” You speak softly, so as not to draw attention to your presence, despite what you verbally claim, you know full well that being undiscovered will better serve you.

Captain Todd-Wayne opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Sighs. You suppress an urge to smile, practically able to see his mind working on how to respond to that without offending your feminine sensibilities.

“Your Highness while your father’s knights - myself included - would of course never consider harming you, the matter persists you are without escort.”

You bat your eyes, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you. “You are the captain of my guard, and have acted as my escort a great many times.”

His jaw clenches, and he makes no attempt to rebut the statement. “Who was meant to be guarding your door this evening?” He asks tiredly.

“Sir West.” You supply.

“Well. Rest assured that by sundown tomorrow he shall be thoroughly reprimanded for allowing this to happen.” He says, anger brewing under his carefully stoic features.

You sigh, but do not argue. You came for a reason, and you will not be distracted by his ire in your goals accomplishment.

You reach into your pocket, and produce a thick, blood red ribbon of finest velvet.

You hold it out, and he takes it, carefully not touching your hand, but where the ribbon hangs from your fingers.

“Best of luck in the morrow.” You say softly. You hope he understands what you really mean. What you cannot say.

You hope he knows you love him.

You turn back into the night before he can respond, the soft look of awe on his face, though the same each year, too great a source of pain and longing for you to take.

___________________________________________

Later that night, Jason lays on the temporary bed in his tent, staring at the ceiling as he idly runs the ribbon through each digit, feeling its weight, its softness. He slides it through his fingers, pulling it through and winding between each with his opposite hand. He closes his eyes and his breath shakes as he recalls its owner. Imagines it in her hair, tying it up, exposing her neck and …No. No. No.

He clenches his hand into a fist, his eyes snapping open. He was a knight. Her Knight, Her protector.

He would not dishonour her with his perverse thoughts.

He refused to.

She had done him a great kindness, in extending her favour. Clearly she knew of his affections, given his actions at the three Tournaments of Fata Morgana past even a woman could deduce the truth of his pathetic circumstance.

It was a great kindness indeed that she allowed him to indulge, one night a year in an unreciprocated fantasy, even feeding into it with this, the most generous of gifts.

Fata Morgana. An illusion. How terribly fitting, his lone solace, the one mercy he allowed his starved soul. To dance with her, once a year. To lay the wreath of roses in her hair, and pretend he was more. That he was worthy.

That he was not the second, adopted, common son of his father. That he hadn’t been sent off to be a squire so young that the Wayne estate no longer felt like home. That he had risen to his honoured rank of his position because he deserved it.

They’d said he was. The king had called him a hero. The people called him a legend. It would not surprise anyone if his story outlived him three generations. Jason Todd, the hero of the battle of Arkham. He had rallied his men, and turned what should have been a massacre into an unparalleled victory, but when the screams fell silent and the dust settled, he had disappeared. He had been declared dead. Turned into a martyr. A fallen hero.

Until he had been found in the woods of the Al Ghul estate, with no memory of who he was or how he came to be there, six months later.

The greatest of healers had helped his mind return - but what happened to him in the lost six months escaped him still.

His Father had asked him to recover at the Wayne estate. He had refused. He said it was duty. It was. But not to his king. It was duty to her, and to his heart. He had not spoken to his father since.

He knew she surely saw only a knight. How could she see more, given how little he was? A knight pinning after her to be sure, but not one she would seriously consider as a marriage prospect. He was not heir, afterall. He was not respected, he was a novelty. A fearsome novelty.

Sleep finds him eventually, a merciful reprieve from his spiralling consciousness. Only to take him away to the same nightmare he has had each night since his return.

That flash of sky, of rocks ascending skyward, the smell of salt and of decay. Pain. Nothing.

[k-howlett]

Breaking and Entering | Bruce Wayne(Batman) Xgn!reader pt II

TW: Character Death (Jason Todd), Grief, and eventual age-gap relationship (Bruce is mid-late 40s, reader is 17, soon to be 18)

Rating: Gender Nonspecific, General Audience, SFW

A/N:

Thank you so much for all the love on pt I, I’m so happy to get back into the swing of things.

as always,

with love and healing,

-Lark(ly)

⊹₊⟡⋆ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⊹₊⟡⋆

“I thought you weren’t going to show,” Y/N said as their footsteps crunched softly against the fall leaves. Still in their school uniform, they carried a backpack lazily slung over one shoulder. Jason Todd’s jacket hung loosely around them, its weight a small comfort against Gotham’s persistent gloom.

Bruce’s blue eyes flicked up from where he stood, his gaze sweeping over them. His tall, broad frame dwarfed theirs as he finally spoke. “I told you I’d come.”

“You said you’d consider it. Thats usually code for ‘go fuck yourself’ but in a polite way” they quipped, a playful edge in their voice as they leaned closer to him.

Bruce rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, and gently nudged them away. “In my case, it means ‘I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep and stretch myself too thin,’” he countered, his tone firm but with a subtle warmth.

Y/N’s eyes drifted to the lilac-colored box in Bruce’s hands, wrapped carefully with a white bow on top. “What’s with the box?” they asked, curiosity piqued.

Bruce handed it to them with a slight nod. “You were right. Titus completely demolished your shoes.”

“Seriously?” They raised an eyebrow, half-amused.

“Mmhm. And Alfred’s rose bush,” Bruce added, rubbing his temples as if the memory itself was a headache.

“Oh… no, that one was definitely me,” Y/N admitted, a bit sheepish.

Bruce looked at them incredulously. “You flattened Alfred’s roses?”

“I, uh, fell off the fence,” they mumbled.

“You climbed my fence?” Bruce’s tone shifted slightly, the disbelief clear in his voice.

“How else do you think I got in? I certainly didn’t just waltz through the front gate,” they said with a small grin, carefully peeling back the paper to reveal a New Balance box. “You got me... dad shoes?”

Bruce’s expression remained neutral, but there was a slight arch to his brow. “Dad shoes?”

“Yeah, you know, the stereotypical dad shoes. The kind you’d wear golfing.”

“I don’t golf in sneakers,” Bruce replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

“People do,” they quipped, opening the box to get a better look at the shoes.

“These have excellent arch support,” Bruce pointed out, his voice firm but with an undertone of practicality.

Y/N glanced up at him, a hint of disbelief in their eyes. “Titus ate my Converse, and instead of just replacing them with another pair, you got me... these?”

“They’re durable and better for your knees,” Bruce said, his gaze steady, as if daring them to argue with his logic.

They paused, holding one of the shoes, with a smile. “So, you care about my knee health?”

Bruce met their gaze, his expression unreadable, but his tone was calm. “You’ll thank me when you’re older.”

“I’ll thank you now,” they say with a smile, holding up the shoes. “I think these are pretty neat, even if they’re a little… dated.”

“Dated?” Bruce scoffs, his tone slightly indignant. “They’re the top brand on the S&P.”*

“They’re kinda retro, Wayne.”

“Retro?” Bruce repeats, narrowing his eyes. “How old do you think I am?”

“...When’s your birthday?”

“I’m not disclosing that,” Bruce replies, his tone firm.

“Why not?” they press, amused by his sudden defensiveness.

“Because I don’t do birthdays. And I have a feeling you’d try to surprise me at the office, and I’d rather avoid the attention.”

“You flatter yourself,” they tease, sitting down to try on the shoes.

“You mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce says, slipping the comment in with calculated nonchalance.

“My birthday? You want to know mine but won’t share yours?” they challenge, eyebrows raised.

“Just making conversation,” he replies smoothly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

“Uh-huh. Well, can we pick a different topic?” they shift their tone, tugging at the laces. “I haven’t celebrated in four years, and I’m not about to start now.”

Bruce pauses, his smirk fading as he meets their gaze. “Fair enough,” he says, the respect in his voice mingling with a hint of understanding. “But if you change your mind, I’m here.”

“You want to celebrate my 18th birthday with me?” they ask, glancing up at him as they tie the right shoe.

“Turning 18 is a milestone,” Bruce states with quiet authority. “Jason never got that chance.”

They shoot him a sharp look. “You’re really going to bring up my best friend—right in front of his grave—to guilt me into celebrating?” There hand gestures at the imposing concrete headstone, as its eye -to-eye with them.

Bruce’s gaze remains steady, unfazed. “It’s not guilt, Y/N. It’s perspective. Life is fragile, and not everyone gets to see their milestones.”

“Mine are limited, and so are yours,” they fire back, a hint of defiance in their tone.

“That’s exactly why they matter,” Bruce responds, his voice calm but firm, emphasizing each word as if it were a lesson.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you so evasive about your birthday, hm?” Y/N asked, their curiosity piqued.

Bruce’s expression remained inscrutable, though a flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes. “It’s not evasiveness,” he said firmly. “I just don’t see the point in making a fuss over my birthday.”

“That’s a double standard,” Y/N countered, a hint of exasperation in their voice. “For someone so keen on celebrating life, you’re reluctant to acknowledge your own significance.”

“It’s different, Y/N,” Bruce replied, his tone carrying a hint of finality.

“It’s not different,” they shot back, shaking their head. “It’s a matter of acknowledging what’s important. If I’m going to celebrate my milestones, then you should too.”

Bruce sighed, his frustration evident. “Tell you what,” he said reluctantly, “we’ll celebrate yours when it comes around.”

“And?” Y/N prompted, expecting a bit more.

“That’s it,” Bruce said firmly, as if he’d made a decision that should settle the matter.

“That’s not it,” Y/N laughed, a playful glint in their eye. “If I celebrate mine, you’re going to have to celebrate yours.”

“You’re a pain—almost worse than my kids,” Bruce muttered, though there was a trace of affection in his voice.

“They like to celebrate?” Y/N asked, intrigued.

“Dick does,” Bruce admitted. “But no, I meant your stubbornness.”

“Thank you!” Y/N grinned, clearly pleased.

“That’s not a compliment,” Bruce hummed, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, betraying the partial admiration he felt for their persistence.

Y/N finished tying the other shoe and looked down with a playful frown. “I look like I have clown feet,” they complained.

Bruce regarded them with a mix of amusement and practicality. “It’s not about the appearance; it’s about the support,” he said, offering his hand.

Taking his hand, Y/N let him pull them up. Standing a bit taller now with the shoes, they grinned up at him. “So, you got these so I’d be in line with your neck vein?” they teased.

Bruce’s lips twitched slightly, betraying a hint of amusement. “Haha, Very funny, Y/N. I got these because you were headed towards flatfoot. Converse aren’t exactly known for their support.”

“Converse are not terrible shoes,” Y/N countered, still playfully defensive.

“Says who?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“2014 Tumblr,” Y/N replied with a smirk.

Bruce looked puzzled. “I don’t even know what that is, nor do I want to,” he said with a hint of dismissive amusement. “You know you might actually appreciate the comfort once you’ve broken them in.”

“I do appreciate them. I just like giving you a hard time,” Y/N hummed with a playful smile.

Bruce huffed dryly, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you do, kid.”

Y/N bent down to collect the New Balance box and the wrapping paper, carefully shoving it into the large pocket of their bag. As they straightened up, a thought crossed their mind. “You took off work for this?” they asked, a hint of surprise in their voice.

Bruce crossed his arms, his expression neutral but his tone a little more serious. “I can make time when it matters.”

Y/N’s expression softens, and they gently grab Bruce’s hand as they both gaze down at the name etched in stone. “It means a lot,” they say quietly, their voice barely above a whisper.

Bruce’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of their hand. “I know,” he replies, his tone even, though the weight behind his words is unmistakable.

They stand together in silence, the world around them muted by the gravity of their grief. Y/N’s voice trembles as they speak again, “He was my friend.”

“He is,” Bruce responds without hesitation, his eyes still fixed on the grave, the words carrying a quiet, unwavering conviction.

Y/N’s voice falters, thick with emotion. “He was your son.”

Bruce’s expression doesn’t waver, but there’s a slight softening in his eyes. “He always will be,” he says, his voice steady, as if stating an unchangeable fact.

Tears well up in Y/N’s eyes, and they blink rapidly, trying to hold them back. “I miss him,” they admit, their voice breaking.

Bruce pulls them into his side, wrapping an arm around their shoulders with a strength that’s both protective and comforting. “I know,” he says, his voice low, the words carrying the weight of shared sorrow. “I miss him too.”

Y/N leans into him, their tears starting to fall as the grief they’ve been holding back overwhelms them. “It never goes away,” they sob, their words muffled against his chest.

Bruce tightens his hold on them, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles against their back. “No, it doesn’t,” he agrees, his voice calm and measured, though there’s a depth of feeling beneath it that only someone who knows him well would recognize. “But we learn to live with it.”

They stand there for a long moment, Bruce’s presence solid and unwavering, offering them the quiet strength they need. In the silence, there’s a sense of understanding—an unspoken bond.

₊‧⁺ ⊹₊⟡⋆

Damian Wayne prided himself on his situational awareness and keen observation. Lately, his father had been behaving differently—disappearing for hours on Fridays, far more secretive than usual. Damian couldn’t ignore the shift and was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Why are we following Bruce around again?” Tim asked, trailing beside Damian and Dick.

“Yeah, I thought you called me for backup over an emergency, Damian,” Dick added, crossing his arms as he followed his younger brothers.

“It *is* an emergency!” Damian hissed, his tone sharp. “Father’s acting weird. And I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

“Weird how? Bruce has always been suspicious and dodgy,” Tim pointed out, raising an eyebrow at Damian.

“It’s different this time!” Damian insisted, his frustration evident.

“Okay, little man, no need to get testy.” Dick ruffled Damian’s hair, a habitual gesture that never failed to annoy him.

“Don’t do that, Grayson,” Damian snapped, swatting Dick’s hand away. There was a significant age gap between them, and Damian always felt the need to assert himself as more than just the youngest.

“Shut up, shut up! They’re right there!” Damian whispered urgently, ducking behind a nearby tombstone.

“Oh hey—Is that Y/N?” Tim asked, squinting at the figures standing in the cemetery. One was unmistakably their father, and the other, a teenager who was familiar to him.

“When you said emergency, I wasn’t expecting lukewarm gossip, Damian,” Dick hummed, leaning casually against the fence, though his eyes betrayed a more serious curiosity.

“Who the hell is Y/N, and why is Father hanging out with them?” Damian growled, narrowing his eyes at the sight.

“I just told you, Y/N Y/L/N, they attend GA with us, they’re two grades above me,” Tim explained, though he knew it wouldn’t satisfy Damian’s questions.

“That doesn’t answer the ‘why,’ Drake,” Damian snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

“Oh wait, whoa whoa—Y/N Y/L/N? Jay’s friend?” Dick’s expression shifted as realization dawned on him.

“Well, that would explain the atmosphere,” Tim said quietly, gesturing to the graveyard.

Damian frowned. He had never met Jason Todd, and the family tragedy surrounding him was something he still struggled to fully grasp. “So?”

“So, the anniversary of his death is coming up,” Dick said, his tone more somber. “They’re probably in mourning.”

Damian’s expression faltered, his usual bravado dimming slightly. The weight of what Dick said hung heavily in the air.

Tim stood silently for a moment, then, without a word, started walking through the fence to join Bruce and Y/N. Dick, catching Tim’s intent, followed, but paused when Damian grabbed his wrist.

“Grayson, where are you going? Where’s he going?” Damian demanded, his voice tinged with confusion.

“We’re already here, Damian. Might as well pay our respects too,” Dick said gently, looking down at his youngest brother.

“He was our brother,” Dick added softly, the words carrying a gravity that Damian couldn’t ignore. “You’re welcome to stay out here if it makes you uncomfortable. But the family is in there.”

Damian hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. “Alfred’s not,” he said indignantly, trying to regain some control of the situation.

“But he would be if he were here,” Dick replied, his voice gentle but firm. “We all mourn in our own way, Damian. You don’t have to go in if you’re not ready.”

Damian’s gaze flicked between Dick and the figures at the gravesite, his usual resolve shaken. After a moment, he released Dick’s wrist, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“Fine,” Damian muttered, his voice quieter now. “But don’t expect me to get all emotional.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dick said with a small smile, giving Damian a reassuring pat on the back before following Tim through the fence.

Damian lingered for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he watched his brothers join Bruce and Y/N. Then, with a deep breath, he steeled himself and followed, his steps slower, more deliberate. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, but for the first time, he didn’t feel the need to fight it.

After all, as much as he hated to admit it, maybe he was starting to understand what it meant to be part of this family.

Tim stepped up beside Y/N, his presence calm and reassuring. He gave them a soft nod of acknowledgment, his eyes flickering with understanding as he noticed the tears and the way they leaned against his father. Tim didn’t need words to convey his support; his silent companionship was enough.

Dick moved to stand beside Bruce, resting a hand on the older man’s shoulder. A shared look of understanding passed between them, one that spoke volumes without a single word. This moment was heavy, but they had each other, and that made all the difference.

Finally, Damian squeezed between Dick and Bruce, his small frame nestling close to his father’s side. His sharp eyes narrowed slightly at Y/N’s closeness, a flicker of something protective crossing his face. He discreetly clung to Bruce’s sleeve, a silent claim of territory that only someone as observant as Damian would make.

Y/N’s gaze shifted to the Wayne siblings, their eyes widening a fraction in surprise to see all of them here. The sight of the entire brood gathered around Jason’s grave added a weight to the moment that they hadn’t expected.

Pennyworth’s steps were light as he approached, his presence as impeccable as ever. Despite his age, Alfred carried himself with a dignity and grace that belied his years. He stood behind the five, a steady pillar of support. “I don’t suppose any of you brought an offering?” he teased lightly, his tone gentle yet playful.

Bruce’s normally stoic eyes softened, a rare warmth bubbling up from his chest as he glanced at Alfred. “Figured that’s your department,” he responded, a hint of affection in his voice.

“White lilies, daffodils, and forget-me-nots,” Alfred announced, setting the beautifully bound bouquet in front of the grave with care. His selection was thoughtful, each flower chosen with intention and meaning.

“It’s quite beautiful… A shame they’ll wither,” Y/N said softly, their voice tinged with melancholy.

“All things wither with time, dear. That doesn’t make them any less meaningful,” Alfred replied with gentle wisdom, his tone reassuring.

Y/N shot Bruce a look, a mix of surprise and familiarity in their eyes. “Someone gave me an eerily similar speech,” they remarked, their lips quirking into a small, knowing smile.

“I did. My wisdom comes from somewhere,” Bruce acknowledged, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience.

Alfred gave a wink and a nod, his expression warm to Y/N before his attention shifts to Dick. “I didn’t expect you to be here, Master Richard,” he said, his tone affectionate.

“Ah, I left Blüdhaven in good hands for the night,” Dick replied with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wouldn’t miss a reunion for the world.”

Bruce’s gaze swept over his family, the people who had become his anchors in this world of shadows and loss. In moments like this, he was reminded of what he fought for—what they all fought for. The past could never be undone, but standing here together, they honored it, even as they looked toward the future.

And for a moment, in the quiet of the cemetery, with the scent of flowers lingering in the air and the presence of loved ones all around, the Wayne family found a fleeting sense of peace.

⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆

*(Please note New Balance is not actually on the S&P because its not publicly traded, I just thought it was a comical interaction)

⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆

Approx. Word Count: 2,917

pt I - pt II - pt III (coming soon)

//Series Tag List: Available Upon Request!

⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆

More About The Blog: ♡

Status Page (2024): Here

[britcision]

Okay so I fucking adore “Jason feels peace around Danny as the pit shuts the fuck up”

Now give me the slow burn

Just two lads trying to help but keeping it as not-weird as possible

Weekly coffee dates where Danny and Jason just… go somewhere

Read in the park

See a movie

Hang out behind a mall doing kick flips, whatever

Danny doesn’t wanna take advantage of the warm fuzzies Jason gets around him cuz they’re not personal, this is just…

A weirdly fast friendship speedrun

Someone who finally, fully gets him, and yeah, maybe just getting to be himself feels pretty fucking good to Danny too

Jason doesn’t want to impose any more than he surely already is, this is the Ghost King, taking time out of his schedule just to hang out with him so he can have some self control

He’s always and only a burden, Danny’s clearly just being cool cuz he’s the only King Jason’s met who actually fucking cares

He’d do the same for anyone

And so Jason tries to make sure they’re always doing something convenient/easy for Danny, something Danny likes to do

And Danny’s Physically Allergic to asking for anything or telling people things he wants or needs, so this requires Jason’s full detective abilities

And Tim’s but shut the fuck up no one will ever no Jason caved and asked for help

So when Jason sets up their next weekly sesh and takes Danny to the planetarium (maybe he was scared to ask first, maybe he was prepared to wimp out, it’s a surprise stfu)

And sees Danny’s whole face just light up

And they go inside, and Danny’s glowing in human form, bouncing from one place to another, gushing about everything

Jason knows he’s even gonna accept a favour from B to get the whole place to themselves for an overnight viewing

Cuz all he can feel isn’t just the soothing calm of the pit being silent, isn’t just the satisfaction of a job well done

He can feel the joy, the excitement, the radiant enthusiasm pouring off of Danny as if it were his own (and maybe something soft and small and fond that’s truly his)

And Danny

Danny’s a competitive little bitch

If we’re playing “Find Each Others’ Secret Hobbies” he’s got the god of software and his lesser subject Technus both on the line

(Technus stays Tucker’s subject instead of Danny’s until he can hack the PDA, it was a dare)

So he brings Jason out of Gotham for the first time (maybe through the zone, it’s fast travel either way) and they do Shakespeare in the Park

And Jason knows exactly what Danny’s doing (the bastard, this is supposed to be how Jason thanks him for this clearly super annoying favour) but he’s

He’s not had the chance to be soft in so long

To be the literature nerd he’s never left behind

It takes literal years for them to realize they’ve been competitively dating each other and everyone else is absolutely betting on when they will finally kiss

Danny moves in and Jason makes a joke about “well I guess we won’t need our weekly hang sesh” and Danny stares him dead in the eye, full Eldritch Horror

“Does that mean I win?”

So nah Date Night is permanent and eternal and every fucking rogue in Gotham knows to hold it sacred

[krunklys]

JayTim Time Travel AU !!!

Rating ; Mature

Warnings ; No Archive Warnings Apply

Category ; M/M

Relationship ; Jason Todd/Tim Drake

Characters ; Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Background or Cameo Characters

Tags ; Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travelling Jason Todd, Young Jason Todd, Slow Burn, Tim Drake is Not a Batfamily Member, Tim Drake is Not Adopted, Young Tim Drake, Stalker Tim Drake, Protective Jason Todd, Jason Todd is Robin, Past Drug Addiction, Canon-Typical Violence, Protective Tim Drake.

Summary ;

Jason is fourteen and smiling, showing off his braces. His curls are full and light, no white to be seen, and they seem healthier than they ever were after his dip in the Pit. His cheeks and chin still have that leftover bit of acne. His arms are wrapped around Dick, holding him close, mashing the side of his face against the horrible denim jacket the man is wearing. They’re someplace cold judging by the heavy jacket draped across Jason’s shoulders in the picture but for the life of him, he can’t remember.

This is bad. This is so so bad. He's so fucked.

Or — Jason gets thrown back into his fifteen year old body, a month before he dies, and decides he wants to do things different this time. He finds Tim in the mean time and their relationship takes on a new form that he never though possible before.

it's only got 2 chapters right now but I'm working on a schedule that allows me rest time and also chewing on this ! I'm leaning towards Wednesday mostly with maybe the rando update on Saturday !

[super-cerulean]

❄️Pairings: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

❄️Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Language, Mentions of Mental Illness, Mentions of Depression and Dissociation, Angst, Slow burn

❄️Summary: Following the events of One and Only, Jason Todd's life is spiralling out of control. His best friend is dead, his family thinks he's on the verge of a meltdown, and the one person who might understand is locked up in Arkham and hates his guts. Knowing he's getting to a point where things are going to overwhelm him, he can either let himself react the way he reacts, or he can do something drastic to try and prevent the next Arkham Knight situation. Which one do you think he goes with?

❄️Links: Available on AO3

Don't You Ever Wonder How We Survive?

I took a Chance on Saving Me, That's Not a Front

You Get Used to the Loneliness, It's Just a Matter of Time

If You Had My Love and I Gave You All My Trust, Would you Comfort Me?

❄️Songs used in Titles:

Monster - Paramore

Gucci Frames - Asiahn

Leave Me Alone - Alexis Munroe

Teenage Fever - Drake

[castrianamore]

Bitter, Had the Heart

DC X Danny Phantom Crossover

Chapter 1: to see or to mistake

TW: Graphic depictions of Corpses, Mutilation, vile smells

Tim Drake was a brilliant Detective. He was a shareholder of Wayne Enterprises. Middle child of the family really. He was working on his degree in business at Gotham U, as expected. He also excelled, as expected. Nothing could have prepared him for this, though. I’m all his years of detective work nothing was quite this gruesome, this brutal. This slow.

A horrified terror filled expression struck across two gang member’s faces. Their deceased bodies had entrails splayed over the alley and he held a rag over his nose and mouth at the smell. It wasn’t just the decay setting into the bones and souls. It smelled like rotten eggs, sulfur. Mixed with the metallic scent of iron and blood and disgust.

Nightwing landed next to him.

“Oo that’s not pretty,”the man whispered. “Damn that stinks.” Time handed over a rag to his elder brother who very gladly put it over his nose.

“You’re telling me. This is one of the more brutal and gruesome cases I’ve seen in a while…” Tim was trying to take in what he could from below. They had to have been tortured alive as they had their entrails removed, at least most of the other rogue’s in Gotham made their subject’s deaths quick, even if painful but these? This was a new breed of brutal and horrific.

Tim was frustrated. He was a fucking detective for gods sake.

“How many is this now?”Nightwing looked at his younger brother before back down at the bodies.

“8… I think we can classify this as a serial case right now,”he huffed. He pulled out a notepad writing things down.

Smell of sulfur.

Entrails spread out.

Claw marks on the walls.

Symbols written into the alleyway walls in the blood of the fallen.

Faces frozen in horror.

This was the 7th and 8th one and of course it was similar to the others. Smell of sulfur. Entrails spread out. Once they got the autopsy report back he high suspected the heart will have been removed and a bite being taken out of the kidney if there even was one.

“So Gotham has another mysterious serial killer whose signature is as gruesome and messy as the Joker’s entire existence.” Tim had been frustrated with this case since it started and he was beyond grateful for the help. A lot of the bats were in on the case at some point. Duke had been trying to do Daytime recon. Tim and Dick were keeping up with police investigation, namely Dick who claimed he was coming from Bludhaven to help with the case. Got them both the inside information.

Bruce and Damian were trying to track down anything and it had been all hands on deck to keep a watchful eye on the city. Cass and Steph were off-planet apparently dealing with something from the covert ops team of Young Justice. Barb was doing her best to play eyes as she kept an eye on the various cctv footage around the city, but Gotham was big and there was always crime to attend too.

Tim was stretched thin himself. He normally had shareholder meetings in the mornings at least once a week, sometimes twice, and after that it was to his college classes. Tim had college, patrols, the company. Fuck. Let alone the occasional charity galas and other events he had to go to not only as a wayne but as a head of the company as a whole.

Tim was running on fumes as this case was running him dry. That was another reason why Dick was in town to lessen the load on Tim. He liked college and he knew that he wan’t exactly the most social person let alone the most normal(look at his job?) but he did want to do things sometimes with his friends. Though, he was sure his ‘friends’ probably wouldn’t be around for super long. Having mundane friends outside of super hero life was hard, let alone a romantic relationship. He had tried with the other heroes. He had tried with civilians but the civilians just couldn’t understand the time necessary and the excuses he was going to have to make.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship but it just simply felt as if he had no choice but to not. Wow, he was tired if hid mind was going off on it’s own separate tangent in mind distracting him from the task at hand. Speaking of…

A small flash of one of the police’s camera’s caught him off guard. Unbeknownst to the group a man in black tech wear with white accents and a mask pulled over his nose was crouched by the body. Hands gloves and a hood up over barely visible black hair. He was taking a sample it seemed of, what was that? How did he not notice that?

There was a green viscous liquid and he just collected it, not just an incredibly small amount, but what was on the body at all. It reminded him far too much of Lazarus water for his liking, but if someone had poured gelatin in it.

“Wing,”Time stated wide-eyed at him.

“I see.”

“We have eyes on a potential suspect,”Tim called over coms.

“Do not engage, follow,”Batman’s words echoed back to him. Duh. They wanted information on the dude. The two backed into the darkness a little more as soon as the police-men turned around he was gone. Tim and Dick watched his foot catch on the ledging as he climbed onto the roof of the building pulling down his hood and looking around. Eyes covered by a pair of goggles that were a stunning and haunting green color. Then it seemed he spotted the bats even from their vantage point, and as soon as they noticed. The man took off running.

“Shit!” Tim exclaimed, moving to jump onto the roof to pursue .

“Red! No engaging!”

“I’ve been following this shit for months, I’ve never been then close to a lead Nighty!” He exclaimed moving to follow.

“Language! But, really?!?” Nightwing followed after time the two moving with ease.

“Stop!!!” He yelled at the black masked figure who merely cocked his head to the side running backwards for a moment before jumping across to the next roof doing a roll. Experienced in parkour at least as Tim and Dick followed suit. Fuck he was fast.

“We need to corner him,”Dick hissed.

“Don’t tell B…”

“Don’t tell B what?”Dick replied before Tim threw two batarangs at his target.

“Red!” Dick exclaimed as the man dropped sliding on his knees to avoid the first one but as he got up the second one hit his leg. Bullseye. The person tripped holding his leg for a moment. A small grunt of pain could be heard as he scooted away from the two of them. The way their face was covered left no idea what thoughts crossed their mind. Nightwing landed next to Red as they stared at the man backing up against the wall to the roof.

“Don’t make us hurt you anymore. Tell us what you were removing from that crime scene,”Red threatened, grabbing his bo staff off his belt and letting it unfurl. The person shook their head as they used the short wall to stand up limping heavily. They weren’t incredibly close to the ground at the moment. At minimum a solid 8 stories high.

Pretty far up Tim would say. Which made the next move shake him. The man looked at them and slowly shook his head and by the time they both realized what they were doing their hearts broke. They gave him a farewell salute with two fingers and fell backwards off the edge of the building and neither himself nor Hightwing could catch him in time. Both running desperately to the edge wide eyed with panic.

It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had committed suicide to escape them. Tim doubted it would be the last either. Fate had it out for them in that way. Fate had it out for them in a lot of ways as Tim would find out over the course of events.

Though they never heard a smack against concrete as they rushed to the side, nor a scream of terror. So when they looked into the alley way the man wasn’t there anymore. Dick and him quickly using grappling hooks to get down.

“What the…”

“Where did he—“

“Infrared?” Dick suggested they both moved to look around them. Just the coldness of the alleyways and setting mid January weather. It was freezing in this alleyway.

“Is that a bed?”Dick pointed out the small campaign at the very back of the alley. A few cardboard boxes set up as a table with a few remains set there. Messy soaked sheets sat on top a cardboard bed with a messy pillow half destroyed it seemed

“Of course it’s a bad.” voice drawing them both out from their mission. “I never thought this would be the way I finally run into Two bats. You’re in front of my sleeping spot.”

They looked up to see a young man(teenager?) he only stood about 5’3. He was bundled up with a hoodie and a black trench coat over it. A soft blue scarf wrapped around his neck, hands shoved into his pockets with piercing blue eyes and ruffled black hair being held down by the matching blue beanie. He looked cold and from the infrared sensors on him the man was abnormally cold compared to most normal humans. A metà Maybe?

He had deep tired circles under his eyes. Skin far too pale to be healthy and a guant looks to his cheeks. His clothing almost just draping off his thin frame. He looked like he was very very sick if Tim could guess.

“Sorry for intruding, then,”Dick spoke up walking in front of him. Giving him a nod that he saw it too. “Did you happen to see a man fall from what roof?”

The man shifted and looked concerned Tim’s eyes looking of his shoulders, eyes, lips. Trying to pick up any subtle mico expressions.

“I just got back from classes, man,”The man sighs rubbing his forehead. “I’m half asleep and running 3 red bulls and a pack of saltine crackers.”

“Can we ask where you’re coming from?”Dick gave a charming gentle smile.

“The library.”

“I see, well we’re looking for a man dressed in all black with goggles with bright green lenses and black hair. He was sporting tech wear. You can give the police a call if you see anything?” Tim pulled out one of Greyson’s cards after he spoke. “We’re working with Detective Greyson at the moment for any leads so you can call the precinct if you see anything.”

The man took the card tossing it over his shoulder.

“ACAB, so can I sleep now? Or are we going to be playing a fun little game of 20 questions with me being the epicenter of the bats hyperfixations.”

“Ah… no, not at all. Have good night,”Dick stated as Tim was trying not to laugh as the man grabbing him grappling them up onto the roof. It was silent as they got a few blocks away before Tim burst out laughing.

“He just…”another laugh,”YEET!” Mimicking the card being thrown over his shoulder.

“That kid is suspicious.” Dick huffed maybe a little salty his normal charms didn’t work on him.

“He’s sassy not suspicious.”

“But his body temperature was—“

“He’s probably a meta Nightwing. Don’t tell the bats that you’re a meta, remember? It’s kind of Batman’s whole reason for keeping the city the way that it is, to protect metas.”

“You’re right.”

“I know. The kid looked exhausted the only thing I picked up from him was that he was beyond annoyed that he had to wait a second longer to go to bed. It’s,”he paused to look at his wrist. “2am.” A pause. If we was a student the mostly likely place he would have been would be the library. Even if you were walking from Gotham U library or a cafe it wouldn’t have taken you two hours to get where they were.” The library and most cafes closed at 11 or midnight.

“What did you realize? You’re smile fell.”

“The university library closes at midnight.”

“Okay and?”

“And this part of town is only a 45 minute walk from the library.”

“Is he our culprit they both have black hair. Could be especially if he’s a Meta explain why he was able to get away from us so fast.”

“I doubt it, that kid looked… sickly to say the least, but he was definitively hiding something.”

“So what was he hiding that he didn’t want the bats to know?

By the time they made it back to the alleyway the mysterious kid was gone.

“Dammit!”Tim exclaimed. This case was frustrating. Everything was going wrong.

“Look we at least know one thing right?” Dick was trying to make light of the situation. “He goes to Gotham U.”

“Dick.. we’re going to find hundreds of people who fall under the broad category. Let’s search “Black hair blue eyes” into the student database and see how many we come up. Let alone the fact that black might not be his natural hair color.”

“Hood could find him…”

“No, Hood has enough on his plate with these murders finding a homeless kid is not part of the problem at hand. The dude didn’t hurt anyone.”

“But if we run into him again,”Dick stared at the quickly disassembled bed the few ratty sheets now gone. “Do you think we could get him to the hospital for some help? Meta or not his readings were… rough.”

“We can’t force people into getting help all the time. It’s one thing for rogue’s who are more than a little insane but a guy who’s sick in the alley way?” Tim shook his head with a sigh rubbing the back of his neck. “We’d be chasing after half of Gotham.”

Tim rubbed his forehead a little frustrated with the general turn of events going on right now. Why couldn’t he get a lead on this fucker. He doubted that googles person would be much help. They looked like an investigator themself but at this point it was a lead and Tim was desperate. Each murder was more gruesome than the last like they were pushing their victims and themselves every time they did it. It had to have been a beast right?

“We need to find the masked person…”

“Yeah no I agree. Whatever they pulled off the body they were looking for that. They knew it would be there.”

“Think he’s the murderer?”

“Probably not, but they seem to know more than us which is concerning in its own right.”

“Not wrong there little bird.” Dick sighed. “We should leave. Head back to the cave.”

“Best, I have too many classes in the morning.”

“You have coffee addiction, you’ll be fine.” Dick smirked as they started back towards the cave moving to write a report of what they encountered on their patrol.

“You trying to feed my coffee addiction?”

“Absolutely not, B might kill me with that one,”Dick snorted.

It wasn’t as if Tim could sleep even as they got back to the manor to crash for night after writing their reports. He remained long after Dick had gone to get some sleep. Eyes focused on the screen and then down at his drawing in front of him. A rough sketch of the new person of interest.

Those eerie glowing goggles were stained into his mind as he leaned back in his chair looking at the file they had created for him.

Name: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Height:5’3 ~

Weight: 115-130lbs~

Appearance: Black hair in black tech wear and a respirator over his mouth and glowing green lensed goggles. White motifs along the outfit with a white D symbol over the left side of the chest.

Status: Unknown

Alignment: Unknown

All these unknowns. How were they supposed to figure it out. He had to meet this person again. He had to find them. He didn’t have a choice. This person was a key in his case. He sent a text to Jason.

“Keep an eye out for a guy that roughly looks like this” He sent an attachment of the drawing he did of the rough outfit in greyscale and what he saw.

“Oh… I know that dude. The people called him Distortion.”

What?

Jason knew of him? How did?

“How?” Cue Tim’s annoyed thoughts at how Jason didn’t care to share this information with them. Any of them. “And you didn’t think a new body on the streets who has a name wasn’t something you wanted to share with the class?!?”

More little bubbles as he was typing.

“He belongs to me that’s all you need to know. He’s an associate. A valuable acquaintance.”

“Well your associate was found removing evidence from my crime scene and bolting.”

“Need to know basis, Tim.”

“Do you know his identity?”

“No.”

“Age?”

“Yes.”

“Can i have it?”

“Absolutely not. He doesn’t want to be involved with the Bats or on your radar. I’d advise deleting the file you’re creating on him. He doesn’t take well to being on record right now.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know Don’t care but he’s incredibly useful and I’d like to keep him on our side and he was very hesitant on even coming to me. He only came to me because he’s operating out of my territory.”

“At least the guy has some respect.”

“He has street smarts. Now back off Tim. You know I let you in on a lot and that’s why I’m telling you this, but him? Distortion? Let him do his thing. If he tells me anything I’ll let you know.”

“What do you get out of this?”

“An investigator.”

“You have us?”

“Not all crime is big enough to involve the bats. Not all crime I can do all the work for for myself. He helps me out locating information and in exchange I leave him the fuck alone.”

Tim stared at the texts.

More typing bubbles.

“You tell Dick, Damian, or especially Bruce about this and I will rat you out for the Yelen case.”

Tim would be silent after all…

He stared at his doodle, ripping it up. It looked like shit anyways. He rubbed his face frustrated really as he made no changes to the file. Dick didn’t have to know about what he knew. This felt wrong to him though. Not just the whole Jason apparently knowing of the guy. If Jason knew of the guy but he remained under the radar of the rest of the bats it was concerning, and even as close as he was to Jason he wouldn’t put it past that guy to keep his issues to himself.

He always thought of himself really. First and foremost. It had been that way since his return mostly. It wasn’t like he never tried. Birthdays and holidays he’d show up. Tim wasn’t going to like that he noticed the mans change in demeanor the past year had done for him. A decrease in murders Jason committed in Crime Alley.

It was subtle enough unless you were looking for it, it wouldn’t be noticed, but tim did. Tim did notice. It reminded him of that breakdown he had a while ago. The anger returning to his brother like it had been there all along slowly increasing. The pit madness returning with a full force nearly driving Jason away from everyone. Jason wouldn’t talk about why the pit madness hit him so hard again.

He wasn’t exactly a feelings guy. None of them were. Dick was the most open of the Bat siblings to openly talk about their emotions and hell Duke had the most normal of a life before it all. Even he was hesitant. They all saw the Black Canary at least once every 6 months and that was only after a begrudging agreement with Black Lightning and the rest of the justice league. Most of they, themselves, weren’t involved in the justice league.

It was also why Cass and Steph being asked to go seemed to set him off. It wasn’t his place.

“He belongs to me..” Tim whispered out the words with a slight possessive tome looking at their texts chewing on his lip a little. A small habit he picked up when he was lost in thought and alone. Usually only when he was relaxed and with family. He couldn’t let people read his microexpressions out in public.

“For a solitary man, that’s quite a possessive statement Jason,”he mumbled into the batcave before standing up and walking up the stairs to his room. Not that he got much sleep either.

[call-me-strega]

How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps: p. 2, ch.2/5(?)

Happy Late Valentine’s Day my dudes.

(This is Unedited, the cleaner version is on ao3)

First, prev, lore, ao3

~~~

It was a week later that Jason ran into his neighbors again. Or well, actually Red Hood ran into them. Then again “ran into” was a bit of a strong (read: inaccurate) description. He had more so observed from afar than ran into them per-say.

He had just landed on a rooftop when heard the sound of increasingly familiar giggles. A cold wind pushed against his helmet as turned to the source. Lo and behold there was the father-daughter heading on the direction of their apartment complex. It was about two blocks from their current location.

‘Well,’ Jason thought. ‘2 blocks off my normal route won’t hurt. I’ll just make sure I see them arrive safely and then continue on with my patrol.’

He watched as Ellie is rushed down the street waving around her toy space shuttle, eager to get home. She ran further ahead from Danny who had his hands full with groceries. He called after her to stay where he could see her and she just giggled and gleefully replied with and “Okay Daddy!”

Jason smiled at their interaction. He felt a sense of comfort and longing seeing such a close and loving pair. However, his smile faded as a pit formed in his gut. His instincts could sense was something off and from the corner of his eye he saw some movement in the alley the Ellie was approaching. As quickly and silently as possible Jason crossed the rooftops to get closer.

Just as Ellie reached the opening of the alley some two-bit thug reached out and pulled her into the alley. The young girl cried out as she dropped her shuttle. She called out to her dad in distress.

“Daddy!”

“ It’ll be okay Ellie! I’m coming! Remember what I told you?!”

Danny called back took of down the road trying to reach his daughter.

This seemed to calm her down as her fear became more manageable. She stop struggling and did her to glared at her would be kidnapper. Jason finally arrive on the roof top ready to drop into the alley and intervene when he witnessed a series of events that stunned him.

Ellie kicked the guy in the nuts with as much force as her little body could muster.

Which appeared to be quite a lot based on the sound that came outa the guy as he let go of her. Just then Danny reached the alley abandoning his groceries by an empty box at the mouth of the alley.

“Ellie!” He exclaimed reach out to gathers her in his arms. He held her tightly and stoked her hair trying to calm her. “ It’s okay baby, I’m here. Daddy’s here Ell. I’m not gonna let anyone take you,” he assured her.

The guy growled as he managed to get back up. He bagan to advance towards them once again with a switch blade in hand this time. Unfortunately for him he didn’t get very far in his plan to use it as Danny reached into his pocket and pulled out some thing labeled “Creep Repellant”. Just as the guy got close Danny pushed Ellie behind him, lifted his arm and maced the guy to distract him. The man cried out in pain and ended up dropping his blade. Then Danny pulled back and clocked the guy in the nose. He stumbled back groaning.

Danny didn’t give him another chance to regain his wits. He just turned, picked up Ellie, and booked it home.

Jason witnessed all of this almost starstruck by the way the how the dad handled himself and his kid. His major priority was making sure Ellie got out of the situation safely even if he had to abandon his groceries and Ellie’s toy to do it. Jason decided to make sure they won’t be followed by this guy. He dropped in and quickly knocked the guy out. Then he zip-tied him to a pipe and called for someone to come pick up guy up before he decided to hand him over to one of his Lieutenants instead. None of them would take to kindly to a potential child trafficker.

Jason walked back to the mouth of the alley and examined the abandoned groceries in the same galaxy-print reusable bags he’d seen Danny use at the store last time. He picked them up, along with the toy space shuttle, and took the back to the apartment complex. He left them in-front of Danny’s door with a note from Jason saying he found them in an alley and believed them to be Danny’s because he recognized the bags and one of the toys Ellie had shown him.

Was it a bit weird? Perhaps, but it could be played off as a coincidence and made more sense than the Red Hood leaving them on the Nightingales’ fire escape.

~

Later that night Jason’s brain kept replaying the image of a six-year-old kicking a grown man in the balls and her father proceeding to pepper spray and deck the dude. It brought a smile to his face to see that Ellie was well protected and evidently being taught how to protected herself too. He felt his fondness towards them grow once more. (He tried to ignore the part of his brain that kept replayed Danny’s punch and whispered ‘that’s kinda hot’)

~~~

About three days later Jason was driving home from the Wayne Foundation on his bike when his engine started stalling and losing power. He cursed his luck and decided to take a turn to head to his favorite mechanic's shop.

Ol' man Sammy had started the shop when he was still a kid and his grand-nephew Leandro, Leo for short, started working under him when he had just started out as Red Hood. They were good people who didn't mind acting as informants in exchange for Hood's protection. Nor did they mind the Jason Todd-Wayne showing up from time to time. As far as they were concerned he was another alley tyke grown up, now a paying customer and potential investor.

Last he heard from them was a month when Sammy officially passed on the reins to Leo and settled into retirement with his wife Avellana. Word had it Leo had been looking for a new hand around the shop and Jason had sent a couple of guys looking to get out of the henchman business his way knowing if Leo didn't hire 'em he might direct them to a cousin who would. He wondered vaguely if Leo ever did end up hiring someone. 'Well I suppose I'll find out soon enough' he thought pulling up into the workshop.

Jason pulled his helmet off, feeling a fresh breeze hit his face, and called out to the two men he saw working on a truck. One of them was examining something under the hood and the other working on the underside. He tucked his helmet under his arm but didn't get off the bike yet. He called out to the two guys.

"Oy Leo, compa! Is that you?"

The man inspecting the hood pulled his head out and gave Jason an impish grin.

"Oh man, Jasón is that you güey?!" The wiry, oil-slick man came over to greet him. Shaking his hand and pulling him into a half-hug.

" You here to get something fixed man?"

Jason slide off his bike and nodded back at it.

"Engine keeps stalling, I was hoping you could take a look," He then glanced back over to the man still working under the truck. " How's Ol' Sammy doing? I see you got the new hands you were looking for."

Leo grinned back, enthusiastic as ever. "Yeah man, he's new in town but good with his hands and a hard worker. Tio approved of him before he left. He and Tia are on vacation right now, went back to visit her family."

That's when a phone rang in the office. Leo sighed turning to Jason.

" Hey man I gotta take this but the new guy can totally get you set up. I'll be right back."

He turned and called out to the man under the truck "Ay chavo! We got a customer man! Come help 'im out while I get the phone!" before rushing of to the office.

The man finally pulled out from under the car and staring back at him were familiar blue eyes and a face smudged with oil. Danny grinned up at Jason as he began to walk over.

"Well hey there stranger, funny running into you here. Guess you must be friends with Leo and Sammy, huh? A real man of the people you are?"

" Uh, hey," Jason felt himself flush with embarrassment, his hand coming up to scratch his nape. " I mean yeah I guess so. I've known them almost as long as I've been able to walk so..."

" I'd like to thank you."

" Huh?" Jason met his eyes with a confused look.

" For finding and returning my groceries and Ellie's shuttle I mean. I got real lucky you happened to find them, otherwise that'd have half a paycheck down the drain. I'm grateful for what you did."

"It was no big deal," he said glancing away. He looked back to see a soft look on Danny's face.

" It meant a lot to me" he replied softly.

The two gazed into each others eyes for a moment before Danny turned his attention to the bike.

" You said the engine was stalling?"

Jason nodded in reply as Danny began to inspect the vehicle. After few minutes Leo emerged from the office just as Danny gave his verdict.

"It need a couple of new filters and an adjustment of the throttle position sensor and then it should be good as new."

" Perfecto!" Leo exclaimed walking out of the office. "You can handle that while I had out. Some guy in Chinatown needs a tow so I gotta take the tow truck and go."

He turned to address Jason. "You can trust Danny here with the bike, I wouldn't have hired him if he wasn't any good!"

He clapped Jason's shoulder before rushing out to his truck. Jason turned to Danny who shrugged and gave him a helpless grin.

" You got experience handling bikes?" Jason questioned.

" Sure do, I knew this one asshole back home who had a pretty sick ride. I ended making friends with him somehow and he taught me about 'em. I've already worked on a couple for Leo here too." Danny replied before walking over to the register.

" Here, I'll ring up an estimate for you. If you decide to leave her here with me I can have her done in an hour-hour and a half and you can pay when you come to collect her."

Jason decided he was willing to let Danny handle his bike. He figured he could just walk a block and grab some dinner at that Mexican-Caribbean fusion place nearby.

" I'll let you take care of her, like Leo said, he wouldn't have hired you if you weren't any good."

Now it was Danny's turn to flush. He fiddled around at the register before talking to Jason again.

" So can I get your number?"

" Huh-?!" Jason startled. Danny flushed even deeper and pointed at the pen and notepad on the counter.

" For the job! I’ll send you a call or text when it's done!"

Jason's face broke into a wicked grin. "Sure," he teased picking up a pen.

"Here's my work number," he said handing Danny a piece of paper. " And here-," he paused to write another number. "is my personal line. But that ones just for you neighbor. So don't go spreading it around," he winked.

He turned to walk out as he heard Danny spluttering behind him. And despite the expletives Danny called after him, he could do nothing to disguise the fondness in his voice.

~

Later that evening, Jason rode home on his newly serviced bike. He'd offered to give Danny a ride home but he still had an hour of his shift left and reassured him that he would be fine to make it home by himself. He took not of how well the bike was running. 'Purrs like a kitten' he thought. The voice in the back of his head once again returned to chime in 'Nothing like a man who's competent at his job'. Jason cursed the voice out, revving his bike and ripping down the street.

~~~

A few days couple of days later Jason receives a text:

"Hey its Danny. You run a soup kitchen with the Wayne Foundation right?"

Jason is instantly filled with concern. Did the Nightingales hit a financial pit fall? Was Danny hurt and unable to work? Did that creep stop paying his child support? He quickly wrote back to Danny

"Yeah why?"

"Ellie made friends with another girl in the building whose mom mentioned "soup night" was coming up and she came home and asked me about it.

I'm lucky that Leo pays well and Vlad's got plenty of money to cough up that we don't really have a need to go but I figured this might be a good learning opportunity to help Ellie understand both our and her friends situations.

I was hoping you had room for a few extra volunteers?"

Jason felt his worries melt away, just like his heart.

"We always have room for more volunteers

I'll text you the details"

~

That following Sunday Jason was organizing volunteers to set up the rec center he'd established last year step up for the soup kitchen. He was directing people with trays of food while his assistant/partner Irene ran through hygiene rules with some of the volunteer servers.

Behind him Jason felt the door open and a refreshing rush of wind filled the air as his newest recruits walked in. The daddy-daughter duo walk up to Jason and Danny gave him a little 2 fingered salute.

" Volunteers Danny and Ell reporting for duty!"

Jason gave them a soft smile.

" Hey guys, it’s nice to see you. This is Irene, my second-in-command. She'll run you through the serving protocols and get you ready to help. Danny you'll probably end up handling food while Ellie takes up resupplying utensils, plates, napkins and bottled drinks."

Danny smiled and ruffled his daughter's hair who giggled enthusiastically with a determined smile on her face.

" I think that'll work for us!" he said, turning to Irene who greeted them with a warm smile and led them over to her section.

~

About 15 minutes later Irene sidled up to him with a cheeky grin. Informing him he'd left Danny and Ellie with some of the other, more experienced volunteers.

" Sooooooo," Irene wiggled her eyebrows at him.

" Sooooooo- what?" he returned to her with a blank stare.

" When were you gonna tell me you had a crush on your new neighbor!"

Jason's face turned red as two more of their colleagues descent upon Jason having overheard what Irene said. Like sharks to blood in the water he swore.

First John, who was also one of Hood's men, whipped around and exclaimed. "What?! Jason you have a crush on your neighbor! What about Hood?!"

" For the 50th time Johnny, I'm not dating Hood. And its not a crush Irene!" Jason said in exasperation.

That's when Fern, the non-binary rec center manager, popped up behind him and said "What's this about Jason having a crush?"

Jason once again protested futilely that he didn't have a crush while Irene gleefully filled Fern in.

" Jason's totally got the hots for the hot, single, young dad who's volunteering with his daughter tonight! You should have seen how soft his face got when they showed up. And get this! Their actually neighbors and Jason's already been to their house for dinner!"

Fern whistled while Jason spluttered.

" How do you even know about that?!"

" Your crush let it spill while we were making small talk," she shrugged.

Jason groaned. None of them were gonna let this go.

"Come on you guys, its nearly time to start. Go get into your places," he insisted.

They relented but Irene shot him a mischievous look that told him he wouldn’t be escaping their teasing at a later date. Sigh.

Jason took his place in line manning the mashed potatoes. He felt someone nudge his shoulder and turned his head to see Danny standing next to him.

" Irene put me in charge of the green beans"

Oooh Irene we will be having words later!

"- and Ellie's been put on crowd control, which I think is just their way of saying she should take any kids done eating to the other room to play."

He smiled up at Jason, who of course smiled back.

"Lets do this" he said as the doors opened and their night of volunteering began.

~

It was a busy night so he and Danny didn't have much time to talk, but Jason learned a great deal just by observing. As his night went on he only saw more and more what amazing people the Nightingale's were. Thoughtful and kind without being condescending. Both Danny and Ellie were incredibly compassionate people.

Danny made an effort to be kind to anyone who came up to him and tried to connect with them in order to make them more comfortable. Ellie was a hit with the kids. She was strong-willed, outspoken and quickly took to speaking up for the shyer kids. She ended up amassing a little posse of her own. She made sure all her newfound friends got to try the foods they wanted and to get their turns with the toys in the game room.

As Jason continued to scoop out mashed potatoes and ignore suggestive glances and cheeky smiles from his friend he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and warmth. This was something he built through his efforts to help the Alley and he got to share it with two people he was growing to care about deeply. In turn not only had they shown an interest what he was trying to do here but actively sought to help others with him.

Jason took in the sight of Ellie leading a gang of smiling children. He made another sidelong glance at Danny, who was bonding with a young boy who said the green beans reminded him of a mythological creature. Privately he thought to himself that maybe Irene was on to something with her whole crush theory.

~~~ Thats all for this chapter. I do have some stuff planned for the rest of this section so look forward to that. Once again I welcome any comments or constructive criticism!

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

The Pilot Pt. 2

Walking into the dining room, your bunny slippers pink and prominent, you stretched and yawned out a ‘hello’. It was wonderful falling asleep in a mansion, and even more so when you spent some time in the lavish bathtub attached to your room. It almost made you not want to leave to go downstairs. Yet, you knew there was a job to be done. The children commented on your colorful robe and slippers, astounded that you showed up to breakfast in such attire. Mr. Wayne seemed amused and commented as such, playfully saying that he wished he owned the same bunny slippers you did. You offered to lend them to him, and he rejected the idea. 

Sitting at the table, you playfully scolded Alfred, “You should tell me these things. A simple dress for breakfast would have been fine.”

“Forgive me, Miss, I assumed you knew,” He said, slightly smiling, as he set a breakfast plate in front of you. 

You shook your head, smiling at the plate of food. “I’m from downtown Gotham, Alfred. You have to assume I know nothing.” You looked around the table, watching as they looked at you with surprise. “What? I got something on my face?”

“You’re sitting at the table,” Duke said shyly. 

You looked to Bruce, expecting him to say something, but he didn’t as he continued to eat his food. “Where else am I supposed to sit?”

“The kitchen,” Dick replied bluntly. 

You blew him off. “That’s so old-fashioned, and I’m too social for that. Now, what’re we doing today?” 

The kids told you they would need to leave the house since Mr. Wayne would be holding a charity dinner party that the children were not invited to. Not that you said it aloud, you were less than impressed by Bruce’s lack of involvement with the kids in things. So, you offered to take them to buy clothes and other things, and Mr. Wayne was happy enough to lend you his credit card. You marveled at the black American Express card, never thinking you’d see one in person—Let alone hold one. 

Suddenly, Alfred re-entered the dining room to tell Mr. Wayne that Lucius Fox was on the phone for him. You got up soon after, taking your plate full of food, and told the kids that you were leaving to get dressed, happy as a clam with your new position.

—

Dick was reserved, openly hostile toward you, and didn’t like the idea that now there was even more of a reason for Bruce not to be involved. You automatically made a note to force Bruce to be more active in his kids' lives and shake the eldest's rough exterior. 

So, when you arrived at the clothes shop, one your friend owned, of course, you spent more time picking out his clothes. Dick seemed like, well, a dick. He was as clever as he was spiteful and attempted to attack you at every angle. You persisted, though, while managing the other kids' wardrobes. 

Dick huffed and went to sit in one of the waiting chairs on the other end of the small boutique, seething in silence. You left him there for a bit, doting on the other children who were pretty well-behaved, albeit a bit odd. Tim had been looking under the mannequins’ skirts to see if they were anatomically correct—and, you knew instantly that would be a conversation with his father. 

As Duke and Jason were trying on ties, you finally looked over to the teenager brooding in the corner. You went over to him, holding up a red tie to his neck before taking the blue one from Damian’s small hands, who was on your hip, and doing the same. Dick was less than impressed. 

“Blue, it compliments your eyes,” You said. 

Dick huffed. “Why’re you doing this?” 

“Because I think you guys should go to that dinner tonight.” 

Before Dick could say that wouldn’t happen Cassandra stumbled over holding out a dress that she wanted to wear, but he wasn’t too dissuaded by that. He insisted that they wouldn’t be going to the dinner party.

Cassandra, even more clever than her older brother, nicely said, “I think the blue tie would suit you, Dickie. It brings out your eyes. It makes you super, super handsome.” 

He stared at her for a moment before saying, “You’re a bitch, you know that?”

Cass smiled, turning on her heel to walk off, leaving you to scold Dick as Damian slowly became more and more irritated with your arm. 

Dick only snapped at you again.

Usually, you could keep your cool, when it didn’t involve your boyfriend, but this was the last straw. “Listen here, I do not care how you feel about Bruce or anything of the sort, but I do know this; you are under my care, and you will be polite, respectful, and cut that language out when I am around.”

“Or what?”

You smiled smugly, stepping closer to Dick as you told him exactly what would happen if he did not behave.  

—

The children had come home happy, Dick noticeably more so than when he left that morning, and they all boasted about the fun they had with you. Bruce found himself excited at just how well they got on with you, and surprised when the seven of you seemed to be in cahoots. This suspicion rose when he asked you about what the kids bought, but you only brushed him off—heading upstairs in a hurry as you giggled along with the little ones. Fortunately for you, Bruce didn’t dwell much on the thought as his attentions were pulled toward making the evening perfect. 

And so had the party gone. It was starting perfectly. The guests were happy, dinner was being served on time, and, most importantly, the money was rolling in for the charities. Bruce stood in the doorway of the foyer and salon, where the guests were because Alfred had informed him that you needed something. Harvey, who had been in the middle of telling him something, followed him. 

To his surprise, you were standing on the last landing of the staircase in a classy red dress, and he would be lying to himself as well as you if he didn’t admit that you looked stunning. Proudly looking down at him, you grinned before turning to see the kids, all dressed up, behind you. 

“Who is that,” Harvey mumbled to Bruce, grinning from ear to ear. 

Bruce answered, “My nanny.” When you approached, he said in a hushed tone, “I told you the children couldn’t attend.”

You acted shocked, hand going to your cheek, and said sarcastically, “Oh, my! I must be blushing.”

“You’re a dirty player,” He commented before going to his children. Bruce admired how well they all cleaned up, doting on them like he always did, before telling them to be on their most perfect behavior. 

Harvey took this chance to introduce himself, and you seemed charmed. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. DA. Say, I’ve got some parking tickets that I think are pretty bogus, you think you fix those for…”

You trailed off when Bruce came back up to you, motioning all of you toward the salon, and whispering in your ear, “We’re discussing this later.”

You rolled your eyes, you would rather have fun than stress what your boss would say. The children were a hit amongst the party-goers, all of them cooing and awing at the children. You, too, were an intrigue to the guests since you were the mysterious latercomer who also happened to be beautiful. Bruce was surprised by just how well, with your downtown Gotham charms, you ran in the circles of the rich. You enthralled them with little tales of the children, some he was sure you made up, as well as wise outlooks on life (according to yourself, but the people listening took it up like catnip). 

Bruce also found himself having the time of his life with his kids, joking with them, and sharing the bits of business to the best of his ability. Dick was happy that he was paying more attention to them rather than the party, even going as far as to call him ‘Dad’ rather than Bruce. And, when you had left to put Damian to bed, Dickie had told him to keep you around along with something about wanting to keep his social life intact another day. 

That certainly would be something else he would need to speak to you about. 

—

“Goodbye, Harvey! I’ll call you about those parking tickets,” You called out the front door as you put the small piece of paper with his number into your bra. When you turned around there was Bruce, standing there with his hands on his hips, and you thought for sure you were going to get sacked. 

Before you could explain, Bruce said, “Don’t pull a stunt like that again.”

You were shocked, but not undeterred from your original task. “All I want to do is show those kids that you care about them.”

“I do care about them, and don’t need you to show that.”

You stepped forward, snickering. “I seriously doubt that. I mean, look how happy they were tonight. Why would you want to exclude them like that, Mr. Wayne?”

Bruce thinned his lips, thinking for a moment before relenting. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that you were right or that he found the courageous glint in your eyes fairly pretty that he gave up so easily. Reluctantly, he agreed that maybe you were right and mentioned how much the kids liked you, even going as far as to offhandedly mention what Dick said. 

“You can stay,” He said. 

You grinned, “Good. I think you’d have a hard time getting rid of me now. I think the masses in this house might revolt.”

Bruce looked at you again before smiling. No matter how he felt, Bruce couldn’t deny one thing; That you were the perfect addition to the household.

[miryum]

"Negotiation"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“L/n,” Wayne rapped his fist on Y/n’s desk urgently. “There was a botched B&E at a jewellery store on Benbrock that just turned into a hostage situation.” He sighed and said, “they want you to be the negotiator.”

Y/n gasped and let out a strangled noise of excitement. “Oh my God, my prayers have finally been answered!”

“You pray for a hostage situation?” Jason asked incredulously.

“Yes, I did.” Y/n turned to him, serious as stone. “Every single day.”

Jason frowned, more concerned for the hostages after they heard Y/n’s jokes than Y/n herself. He knew she could handle herself. ”I don't understand. Why isn't ESU handling this?”

“Apparently, the hostage-taker asked for Y/n by name.” Wayne raised a brow and stared down at his detective like she had an answer.

“Oh, it's getting even cooler!” Y/n hummed and contemplated, “man, I wonder who it is. Maybe it's the sister of someone I put away for life. Ooh! Or the identical twin of someone I put away for life. Ooh! Or the fraternal twin of-”

Captain Wayne cut off her tangent. “L/n! Just get down there! And take Drake with you.”

“You got it!” Y/n beamed and jumped up. “Yep, yep, yep.” She turned to Tim who had come to stand next to her. “How do I look? Police-y enough?” She waved him off before he could answer. “It doesn't matter. Let's go negotiate!”

When Tim and Y/n got the the jewellery store, the block was closed off and police cars were surrounding the building, sirens going on and off periodically. Y/n waltzed up to the area and pronounced, “don’t panic, everyone, I'm here.” An officer beckoned her over and Y/n introduced herself. “I'm Y/n L/n, the negotiator.”

The man stared at her, unimpressed. “So you're Y/n L/n?”

“The negotiator, yes. And… who are you?”

“Arnold Flass, ESU. This was my crime scene before you bozos got here.”

Tim sipped on his coffee before noting, “nice to meet you too, Arnold.”

“I've spent ten years as a negotiator and you just took my first hostage situation,” Arnold exclaimed. “All I've done up until now is talk jumpers off of rooftops.”

“Well, that must be satisfying in its own way, right?” Y/n offered. Tim walked off to talk to a more senior, professional officer.

Arnold scoffed. “Yeah, really satisfying saving a crazy person's life. Here's a little advice: I don't like you.”

“Not so much advice as a hurtful statement based on limited interaction,” Y/n muttered.

“He wants to talk to you,” Tim came back and motioned to Y/n.

Arnold rolled his eyes and ripped the label off his vest. He handed it to Y/n begrudgingly. “Get the hell in there.”

“Oh, it says ‘negotiator’ on it.” Y/n happily put it on and weaved through the crowd of officers and bystanders. She took a bullhorn from a cop and called into it, “this is Y/n L/n. I am unarmed and I'm approaching the building.” The door swung open ominously and Y/n glanced back at Tim. He gave her a nod of encouragement. “You wanted to talk to me?” Y/n stepped into the jewellery store, peeking around the corner.

“Keep those hands in the air,” a voice commanded. Then, in a lighter tone, the voice joked, “and wave 'em like you just don't care.”

“What?” Y/n’s brows furrowed, confused.

The hostage-taker finally came into view. “I'm just messing with you, L/n.” Roy Harper grinned. “Put your hands down, give me a hug, darling.”

“Roy!” 

“Okay, so are we gonna talk about it?” Steph slipped into the seat next to Jason and leaned on his desk.

“Nope.”

“Todd, you frustrate me,” Damian said. Steph blinked at him, not realising he was listening in.

Jason’s chest clenched. “There is nothing we need to talk about.”

“I disagree,” Damian muttered. 

“Listen,” Jason turned away from his computer and Steph knew that it was about to get real. “I just went out on another date with Rose. She’s a lovely girl and I was thinking of taking it to the next step. I’m planning on asking her to be my official girlfriend tomorrow night.”

Steph shook her head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work. You see, my big plan in life is to push you and Y/n together so you can all be happy and possibly make even cuter babies.” 

Jason blushed and swallowed thickly. “I’m not interested in L/n.” 

Damian scoffed. “Brown, we have a lie detector at the precinct, correct?”

Steph grinned, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Hey…. Richard!” she called to Dick. “Wanna have a little fun?” Dick looked up, beaming impishly.

“I gotta admit, man,” Roy said, shrugging. “I thought you'd be more happy to see me. Why’re you being so weird?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Y/n pursed her lips together. “I didn't sleep well last night, so I’m just tired. Oh, and also, this is a hostage situation!”

“Wow!” Roy sucked in a dramatic breath. “It's like that.”

“Yes, it's like that. What the hell, man? You called me, remember? You promised me that you wouldn’t do anything to wind up in jail!” Y/n referenced the time when Roy called her in the middle of the night to promise to stop his life as a criminal.

“I didn’t! I work at Tiffany and Co. now.” He rested a proud hand on his chest. ”I sell luxury jewels to the rich and famous and I do it legally. Last week I sold a sapphire necklace to the dude who played Johnny in Hotel Transylvania.”

“You met Johnny?” Y/n exclaimed. “Was he cool? Does he actually like vampires in real life? Wait- no.” She caught herself. “We’re not chatting right now. You have three hostages.”

“You mean Pam and the two Bobs?” Roy looked at the three people on the floor, rope loosely tied around their wrists. “They’re not hostages. I prefer to call them ‘collateral friendships.’ I gave them each one hundred bucks out of my own pocket.”

One of the Bobs spoke up. “Thanks again, Roy.”

The other Bob nodded his head in agreement. “You’re the man, Roy.”

Pam stuttered, “a-actually, I'd rather not be a hostage.”

“Pam hasn't come around to me yet.” Roy shrugged. “Tell her I'm a nice person, Y/n.”

“I'm so sorry,” Y/n said to Pam.

“Officer, are you friends with this criminal?” Pam asked, aghast.

Y/n’s nose scrunched up. “Not really…”

However, Roy replied at the same time, “absolutely, best friends.”

“It's a layered relationship, Pam,” Y/n defended.

“Best friends,” Roy corrected.

”Harper,” Y/n hissed, pulling him towards the door. “What is going on, dude?”

“This isn't my fault, darling!” Roy protested. “Two years ago before I went straight, I stole a big ruby from a drug dealer: Jack Napier.”

“Oh, no, Roy.” Y/n groaned. ”He's a bad guy.”

Roy whined, “I know! When I realised it was his jewel, I torched the briefcase it was in along with the drugs that were in there! Who the hell puts drugs and rubies in the same briefcase?!”

“Oh, no, Roy,” Y/n groaned in the same pitch as before. ”Briefcase drugs?”

“Millions of dollars of them! Napier just found out it was me. Said I had to do a job for him to pay off my debt.”

“But did you tell him you went straight? Did you tell him about Johnny?” Y/n asked desperately.

“I did. He said he didn’t watch Hotel Transylvania.” 

“Oh, this guy is the worst.”

“I know.” Roy’s voice turned desperate and low. “L/n, he said he's gonna kill Lian if I don't do this job.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “He can't do that. I won’t let him do that. The GCPD can help you guys. We can put you in witness protection!”

Roy shook his head. “I can’t mess up my daughter’s life ‘cause of my mistakes. That's why I'm here stealing this big ‘ole bag of rubies; to make up for the one I stole. Y/n, you know how dangerous this guy can be.” He took a breath. “I need you to help me save my daughter.”

“How can I help?” Y/n responded immediately. 

“Easy. I have a plan that's good for everyone. All I need is for you to-”

“-let him go so he can arrange a drop with Napier.” Y/n explained Roy’s plan to Tim. “We arrest Napier, save Lian, Roy turns himself in, and why is that amazing, Tim?”

“Napier’s a huge crime boss,” Tim answered.

“Aaaand what else?”

“GCPD's been trying to get Napier for years.”

“And?”

“That's it.”

“Yeah, it is.” Y/n said, “so, since we all agree, I'll go tell Roy the plan is on.” She swung around to go back inside, but Arnold stopped her.

“No, we don't all agree. He's trapped and frantic. Everything he told you is a lie.”

“Why do you say he's lying?” Y/n asked.

Arnold frowned. “That's all negotiating is. Two liars lie until one liar stands too close to the window and gets shot in the head.”

Y/n scoffed loudly. “That can't be all negotiating is!” She noticed Tim’s head lolling to the side. “Timmy, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but have some more coffee.”

“It absolutely is. Now, get in there and coax him to a window.” Arnold pressed a button on his walkie talkie. “Snipers to one. The window plan is on. I repeat: The window plan is on.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Y/n cried and tugged the walkie talkie away from Arnold. “Snipers to zero! Snipers take a nap. The nap plan is on. It's nap time, snipers!” 

A couple minutes later, Y/n regretfully told Roy, “ESU won't take your deal. They think you're lying.”

“I'm not lying!” Roy gasped dramatically, offended. “I don't wanna be a criminal. I love my life as an average citizen. I voted for the first time this year! It was huge. Lian helped me fill in the little boxes. She chose Ed Breakfast for school board.”

“Who?”

“I don't know,” Roy muttered. “He had a funny name. He deserves a shot.”

“That's exactly why I voted for Stacy Ladle! Anyway, I'm sorry, but they're not cutting a deal.”

“So that's it?” Roy sighed. “I gotta turn myself in and let Napier kill Lian? You’ll take care of her, right?”

 Y/n’s heart broke and she could feel a plan formulating in her mind. “Actually… there might be another way.”

“Alright, Todd.” Dick strutted in front of Jason. “We’re gonna do this one time and one time only. Do you have feelings for Y/n?” 

“Are you shitting me?” Jason’s head fell into his hands. He was strapped to a lie detector test that Steph was currently monitoring. “We’re actually doing this?”

“Yep!” Dick said. “We have to know. Now, let’s go over the evidence.”

Damian wheeled in a large cork-board which was covered in index cards, push pins, and signature red string. The index cards said things like: ‘Halloween incident,’ ‘Valentine’s Day nicknames,’ ‘1000 pushups blanket,’ ‘googly eyes,’ ‘lack of dates,’ and more.

As Jason read over the cards, his face slowly got more and more red. Dick gleefully snapped a polaroid picture of Jason’s current face and secured it to the board, adding it as another factor of evidence. 

Roy shouted from the doorway of the jewellery store. “I've taken your negotiator hostage! If you come in here, I will shoot her.”

Y/n wailed, “just do whatever he says! My life is in his hands! Please!” 

Roy slammed the door behind them and then broke out in giggles. “That was so much fun!”

“Oh, man, you sounded really scary.” Y/n exhaled.

“No, no, it was all you. The tremble in your voice sold it. ‘Just do whatever he says.’” Roy mimicked Y/n’s panicked voice

“I mean, I just made that up. Ah, I was so in the moment.” Y/n silently praised herself on her acting skills.

“Darling, seriously? You are a great hostage,” Roy complimented.

“Aw, thanks, Harper. You're a great hostage-taker.”

Outside, Arnold was talking to Tim, lamenting, “I can't believe L/n got taken hostage. The good news is… I'm now the negotiator. Finally!” He slapped another marker labelled ‘negotiator’ on. 

“Congratulations,” Tim said dryly.

“I've been waiting for this moment for so long!” Arnold exclaimed.

Roy’s voice from the bullhorn cut him off. “I'm ready to negotiate. But I'll only talk to Tim Drake.”

“That's me, Arnold.” Tim ripped Arnold’s label off and placed it on himself.

“Oh, come on!”

“Welcome, my man!” Roy waved to Tim when the latter entered the store. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we? I’m Y/n’s bestie. I’m a hugger; bring it in.” He walked over to Tim with open arms.

Tim, however, yanked on one of those arms and looped it over Roy’s head, effectively holding him in place. “Roy Harper, you're under arrest.”

“Holy fuck, Tim’s strong?” Y/n mumbled. “But he’s so lanky and only runs on coffee. Wait, Tim, stop.”

“What's going on?” Tim grunted as he tried to place cuffs on Roy.

“Look, this is not really a hostage situation. I mean, Pam and the two Bobs are definitely being held against their will, but not for much longer.”

Roy spoke up, trying to be helpful. “Y/n’s helping me take down Napier.”

“We can't do it without you,” Y/n pleaded.

“Seriously, L/n?” Tim scoffed. “Isn’t this the guy that you and Cass tried to take down? The one you did a thousand push ups for?” 

“You did a thousand push ups for me?” Roy cooed. 

“Not important.” 

“This is like that story my dad told me as a little kid. He used to quiz me on fables from different cultures.” Tim said, finally releasing Roy. “You're the frog and he's a scorpion. You're gonna help him across the river. In the end, he'll sting you. And then you'll both drown.”

“Geez, that's dark.” Y/n grimaced.

“Yeah, I’d never tell Lian that story,” Roy said.

“My parents didn't read to me at all,” Y/n commented. “I just watched cartoons ’till I fell asleep. Do you think that our childhoods shape the adults we become?” She hummed thoughtfully.

“They do,” Roy and Tim said at the same time.

“And cartoons shaped you into a naive little frog,” Tim said.

“Okay, first off,” Y/n held up a finger. “Little frogs are adorable, and second, he's not that kind of scorpion anymore.”

“I'm a changed bug,” Roy said.

“Actually, scorpions are arthropods.” Tim and Y/n spoke together. Tim looked at her, surprised. “What?” She shrugged. “I listened to the documentary you made us watch. Tim, I know he used to be a criminal and has fooled me in the past, and yes, he is currently engaged in criminal activity.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Roy reminded Tim. “But yes, I technically am robbing the store.”

“But, Tim, his daughter is in danger and we have to help her. He agreed to turn himself in when this is all over. Right, Roy?” Y/n scrutinised him.

“I promise.”

Tim sighed. “Cass warned me about him. But okay. What do you need from me?”

“We have an airtight plan.” Roy grinned. He poked the bullhorn out of the door and shouted, ”all we demand is pizza!”

“I’m in a relationship with Rose,” Jason insisted.

“You’re not answering the question!” Dick exclaimed, growing more frustrated. 

“That’s because the question is stupid and doesn’t need to be answered!”

“Todd, you must have lost half your brain if you think you’re fooling us.” Damian didn’t look impressed.

“Jason,” Steph exhaled. “By not answering the question, you’re answering the question.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t make sense.” Jason shot back lamely.

“It’s okay to have feelings for L/n.” Steph said, oddly calmly. “You’re not admitting defeat.”

“No, I’m aware, but just…” he sighed heavily and stared down at the table. “What if she doesn’t like me back?”

Steph slowly shut off the computer and the lie detector. Damian had a rare look of sympathy glazing over his eyes. “But she does,” Dick said softly. “She’s told all of us herself. Right, guys?” he asked his friends. 

“If I had a nickel…” Steph smiled and huffed, trailing off.

“She’s interrupted many movie nights with tangents of you,” Damian frowned at the fact. He had yet to finish The Gladiator because of Y/n.

“We'll be safe here,” Roy directed Y/n towards a small, neon-lit shop. Tim had provided them a distraction long enough for Roy and Y/n to sneak away. Tim said he would meet with them later. “I know the owner. He'd never turn me in.”

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded along knowingly. “I have the same relationship with the guy who runs this laser tag place I love. I- I mean, gun range.”

Roy chuckled. “L/n, why’re you lying to me, huh? I love laser tag! We gotta go sometime, darling.” He led her inside the place and to a back room which had a large screen and a karaoke machine plugged in and ready to go.

Y/n beamed. “I was hoping you'd say that. Alright, let's text Napier and set up the drop.”

“Okay, yeah. ‘Got the diamonds. Let's meet.’” He clicked his phone and the message was sent. “Done.”

“Okay, now we wait.” She clicked her tongue and hummed. “You know, it’s kinda weird, sitting silently in a private karaoke room, not singing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “But we're on a mission, so, you know, we gotta stay focused.”

“True, true, true, true, true, true.”

“So I wake in the morning and I step outside and I TAKE a deep breath and I GET! REAL! HIGH! And I scream at the top of my lungs ‘WHAT’S GOIN’ ON?’” Roy sang in a falsetto as Y/n accompanied him in a lower tone.

In the middle of the song, Roy’s phone dinged and he paused the song. “Ugh. It’s Napier.”

Y/n pouted in disappointment. “Yeah….”

“The drop is set for 5:00 p.m.” Roy informed her. 

“Let's do this.”

“Totally. Although…” Roy shot Y/n a knowing look. “That is an hour and a half from now.”

“And the drop point is actually pretty close to here,” Y/n added.

“So..."

“DANCING QUEEN! YOUNG AND SWEET! ONLY SEVENTEEN OOOOOOOH…”

Tim walked into the room and slowly sipped on his coffee, looking more tired than ever.

“I feel more sympathy for our perps now.” Jason ripped the lie detector off himself. 

“Can you please just admit that at some point, past or present, you’ve had feelings for Y/n L/n?” Dick begged. They had spent over three hours in the interrogation room, grilling Jason on his feelings and not getting any work done.

“If it makes you let me go, then yes.” 

“I’ll take it!” Steph cried. “It’s close enough!”

“I still say I could’ve made fine use out of a pair of pliers.” Damian glared at Jason. Jason couldn’t help but shudder under his stare. 

“Torture me all you want,” Jason said. “But I don’t like Y/n like that. She’s like a sister to me. We’ve worked together for over four years. I don’t love her romantically.” 

If he had still been connected to the lie detector, its lines would’ve jumped widely.

Steph said quietly, “just know this: to remember is to love.”

Roy explained the plan to Tim and Y/n in the parking lot where Napier would meet them. “First, a jeweller will come out and inspect the rubies. Then, when he gives the okay, Napier will come and get them.”

“And then I'll take him down.” Y/n cracked her knuckles dramatically.

“Here we go,” Roy mumbled as an expensive car pulled up and a thin man got out. Harper, Drake, and L/n got out of Y/n’s old car and Roy greeted, “What's up, dude? Did anybody ever tell you that you look like the most interesting man in the world? You get that a lot?” After an awkward silence, Roy inhaled sharply. “Geez, I get it. We're not friends.”

The thin man held out his hand and Roy placed the sack of small rubies in it. The man inspected a random ruby and then nodded. Another man got out of the car and Roy said, “There he is. Napier! What's up, Mr. Napier? How’re you doing?” Napier’s car pulled away to give them some privacy.

“Shut up.” Napier licked his lips. “Give me the rubies.”

A new voice shouted from the other end of the parking lot. “L/N!” 

Y/n cringed. “No, no, no, not now.”

Arnold yelled out, “I tracked your phone, idiot. I knew you were working with this criminal! You were gonna double cross us!”

Y/n’s head whipped back to Napier, but he was already running down the street, phone pressed to his ear, likely calling his driver.

Arnold gasped. “That's Napier. Harper wasn’t lying. Well, we gotta arrest him!” Arnold grabbed Y/n’s vest and pulled her back.

“Y/n, he's running!” Tim cried, already in pursuit of Napier.

“Lemme go!” Y/n tried to yank away.

“Only if I get the collar and one hundred percent of the credit.” Arnold growled.

“Are you negotiating right now?”

“Always.”

“Okay, that was actually a really cool line. Deal. Let’s do it.” She pointed harshly at Roy. “Stay. Here.”

“Okay.” Roy shrugged.

Y/n and Arnold ran off after Napier, catching up to Tim. “GCPD!” Tim shouted. “Stop and put your hands in the air!” Napier continued running and Tim groaned. “Why don’t they ever listen?”

“Drake,” Y/n swerved towards another street. “I’ll block him off!”

“Not without me, you won’t!” Arnold changed direction and sprinted after Y/n. 

Napier’s eyes grew wide when he saw Y/n and Arnold appear ahead of him. He glanced over his shoulder and when he saw Tim, still in pursuit, he cried out in frustration. Y/n tackled him to the ground and threw handcuffs on him. After she was done Mirandizing him, she apologised to Arnold. “Sorry I ran out on you at the jewellery store. But I couldn't let this guy get away.”

“Look, I'm fine with it.” Arnold said. “Arresting Napier’s gonna get me a promotion and at the end of the day, that's what this is all about.”

Y/n squinted at him. “Right, that and getting a major drug lord off the streets.”

“Yeah, right. I don't care about that.”

Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed before brushing him off. “Whatever. Let's bring in Roy Harper.” She left Napier with Tim and ran back to the parking lot. Finding it empty, she cried, “Oh, fucking hell! Where is he? Roy? Roy?!”

Arnold saddled up behind her. “Don't worry. We'll get him. At least we have Napier and the rubies.”

Y/n simply shouted, “Roy!”

“Why are you still calling for him?”

“ROY!”

Arnold realised, “oh my God, he has the rubies, doesn't he?”

“Roy!” Y/n quickly composed her wits and muttered to herself, “I'm sure Harper didn't run off with the rubies. I bet he's looking for me right now. You know what, I bet he's worried that I’m in trouble!” She frantically pulled out her phone. “I'll just call him and put his mind at ease.”

Arnold raised a brow. “Lady, he's already gone.” He placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and Y/n pushed him off, giving him an icy glare. “He's not gonna picking up.” Y/n’s jaw clenched at Arnold’s words.

Suddenly, Roy’s voice filtered through her phone and she breathed a sigh of relief. “What's up, L/n?”

“Ha!” Y/n pointed a victorious finger at Arnold. “He did pick up. In your-”

“This is goodbye forever,” Roy cut her off.

“No!” Y/n stomped her foot. “I can't believe you deceived me. I can't believe you used my love for Lian against me.”

“I love that you love her.”

“Of course I do! She’s the living embodiment of the reminder that childhood innocence never dies.”

“Amen,” he agreed. “But, I wasn't lying though. Napier was gonna hurt her and you saved her life. Buuuut then I was all alone with the rubies and next thing I know, I'm hotwiring a car and driving away.

”But I thought you liked being a good citizen? You voted Ed Breakfast for school board!” Y/n whined. 

“And he immediately had a sex scandal.” Roy reminded her. “It was very disillusioning.”

“Understandable. Our democracy is crumbling. But, Roy, this is not what we’re talking about. They could take my badge!” 

“Tim was right.” Roy smiled faintly. “I'm a scorpion. I thought you knew me better by now. I'm sorry I can't be the man you want me to be.”

“Damn it, stop being so romantic.” Y/n choked on her words and begged, “now turn around and come back to me, you fool?” The line clicked and she called, “hello? Hello? He's gone…. He broke my heart.” Tim walked up behind her as her lip quivered theatrically. She turned towards her fellow detective and hugged him tightly. “Now you tell me everything's gonna be okay, Timmy boy!”

“Everything's gonna be okay,” Tim reassured monotonously.

“You don't know that, Tim!”

“I just got off the phone with the brass,” Captain Wayne said to Y/n. “It doesn't look good. They're still trying to decide on a punishment for your actions.”

Y/n sniffed and asked meekly, “Did you tell them I feel so bad I have a tummy ache?”

“I did. They were unaffected.”

“Are you sure it’s not cramps?” Jason pushed a box of chocolate towards his coworker. “It is your time of the month.”

Y/n grimaced in disgust. “It’s creepy that you know that.”

“Not really,” Tim said. “You, Steph, and Cass have all synced up. We all know when to have desserts in our desks.”

“I think even Kori is synced up to you guys,” Dick added. “Somehow.”

“So no.” Damian spoke up. “In this instance, Todd isn’t creepy.”

Y/n looked up at Wayne as if to ask his opinion on this matter. All he said is, “I have no comment to add in this conversation. Back to the topic at hand, the brass said they could’ve justified your tactics if you'd gotten Napier and the rubies, but as things stand, there are no rubies.” He sighed and said, “you're looking at a suspension, maybe worse. Unless you can track down Harper and recover those rubies.”

“Can they wait twelve months?” Y/n asked hopefully. “I usually run into him about once a year.” Her eyes caught on something on her desk. “Wait a minute. What doth we have here?”

Y/n walked into the karaoke place and looked around hesitantly. “I've got this coupon for a private room?”

“Yep,” a worker said. “Right this way. We already have a song cued up for you.”

The screen blinked on as soon as the worker left the room and a large picture of Roy Harper with Lian on his hip showed up.

Y/n shook her head and muttered, “Harper.”

“What's up, L/n?” the recording asked happily. “Thank you so much for coming. So, I thought about it and I think I did you dirty. I never meant to cause you any trouble.”

“Yeah, well, you caused me a lot.” Y/n kicked at something at her feet.

Roy chuckled and said, “you're talking to a pre-recorded video, but it's cool. I know what you're saying. I hear you in my heart,” he said emphatically.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “What am I doing here?” she asked herself.

“I feel the same way,” the recorded Roy placed a hand to his heart. “You’re my best friend too.” He nodded thoughtfully and said, “look, I'm not coming back. We started a new life here in San Diego.” He jostled Lian who was giggling on his hip.

Y/n shook her head, grinning. “It’s stupid telling me where you are.”

“Come on, darling, I’m not in damn San Diego.” Roy laughed loudly. “Everybody knows that place sucks! But, I got you a little something as a going away gift. It's on the table next to you.”

Y/n opened the small velvet sack and gasped. “The rubies. Yes! I- I can’t believe you actually brought them back…”

“The rubies!” Roy cried from the screen.

Y/n let out a lighthearted laugh. “Yeah, you mistimed that one.”

“No, you're the best. Look, even though I am a scorpion, I will never drown your adorable little frog ass. So that's all I gotta say.” He glanced down at Lian who was smiling happily, staring at something in the distance. “I'm sure I'll see you again at some point,” Roy said, his eyes softening. “But for now, that coupon you got there, that's for a full hour in a private room. So…”

“Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go! BeeLZEbub has a devil put aside for meeee… for meeee! For meEEEEEEEEEE!” Lian sang along as Roy and Y/n banged their heads to the music.