#robin is jason is robin; so when jason died AS robin that should’ve been the end of it. but it wasnt.

[leafsheep]

When Dick first met Tim, he was a kid at his doorstep begging him to be Robin again, begging him to go back to Bruce so that Bruce could be okay again. He understood what Tim was saying then, and maybe he should’ve said okay- hell he wished he had some days, because now he looks at Timothy and just knows that he could’ve avoided so much suffering if Dick had just agreed.

But he had been fighting with Bruce, he wasn’t okay either. How was he supposed to be okay? How was he supposed to hold together Bruce when he was barely holding himself together? How was he supposed to go back to being Robin when Robin was dead?

Robin was dead. He was dead.

Dick didn’t know when Robin started dying to him. When he was kicked out of the manor, maybe? Or maybe it was when he saw Jason standing in his family colors. Either way Dick knew his mother’s Robin was dying around that time- and when Jason died, when he saw that goddamn shrine to his baby brother who he barely knew… when he realized his family colors, his name, his childhood, was soaked in blood. That’s when he knew Robin was dead.

But if Dick said he didn’t wish he had agreed to Tim’s request he’d be lying. Because seeing another Robin one who was Robin not for himself but for Bruce- for Batman. That put the nail in the casket. Watching Tim as Robin twisted Dick’s guts inside him, it mocked him and told him that Robin will never mean what it once did.

Stephanie’s stint with his name, he didn’t know much of, but his stomach dropped when he heard of what happened to her. He remembered the feeling of guilt and anger pooling inside him, a stinging string of memories and harsh words in his head to remind him of how he should’ve been there.

With Damian he felt bad to take the name from Tim, he felt queasy about letting anyone have the name at all in all honesty, but he was so like him. He looked at Damian and saw the young circus boy who was angry and impulsive and full of potential. He saw Robin.

Damian was brash and he didn’t respect Dick much at first, to him Robin was a connection to his Father who he had lost, Dick could work with that, sure Bruce wasn’t Dick’s Mother and Father, but the basic idea of Robin was the same to them back then.

It’s much later when Dick realizes that it wasn’t just Tim that was hurt by his decision to make Damian Robin. It wasn’t until he failed to save the boy from the clone of himself that he realized how horrible his decision was. Seeing the littlest Robin, blood seeping into his family colors once more, Dick Grayson realized he never should have turned down Tim all those years ago, if he hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened. He realized he should never have left the manor in the first place, he should’ve kept going as Robin and never let Bruce give Jason the name in the first place— or he at least should’ve been able to pick up his damn phone all those years ago, maybe that would’ve changed things too.

Even with the resurrection of Damian, of Robin, Dick can’t see his colors the same.

His parents would never be proud of him if they saw what he let Robin become, a line of young kids all doomed by their name. By his name. He let his family name become a death sentence.

[yeetus-feetus]

WIP Wednesday

Tumblr prompt: Tim is the first to find out the Red Hood’s identity and from then on sticks to Jason during patrol like glue (much to Jason’s chagrin, dammit, it would feel wrong to beat up Robin when he’s that starry eyed…) Cue: panic from the rest of the batfamily who still think Hood is a 40-something year old crime lord and now assume they’re dating.

@ghost-bxrd

Jason sighs, looking up at the sky dramatically. “Robin, I know you’re following me”, he calls out into the darkness, and there’s shuffling behind him.

He turns around to see Robin step out of the shadows, letting his cape fall apart and reveal bright red and green spandex and kevlar. “I wish the outside of my cape was black, I was running around like a sparkling traffic light”, he pouts under the helmet.

“Mm, maybe you should’ve taken some initiative. I designed my Robin suit all by myself, you took whatever B gave you”, Tim replies teasingly.

Jason chuckles. “Mmm, and maybe you should try humbling yourself every once and a while”. He removes his helmet and quirks an eyebrow from under his domino mask. “Hard to believe Batman never noticed you following him, I noticed you 10 yards back.”

Tim grins, holding his camera up and Jason sticks his tongue out as he takes a photo. “That’s funny, Hood, considering I started following you 50 yards ago. I got bored and started wondering how long it would take you to notice me if I started being less careful.” he explains, looking down at the screen to check the quality of the photo he just took.

“Oh, that right huh?” Jason asks sarcastically, not really believing him.

Tim’s grin widens mischievously and he waves the camera in front of his face. “Want proof, big guy?” he asks.

Jason laughs and snatches the small device, clicking through the recently taken photos. After a moment he groans defeatedly. “Yeah okay, I should've known you’d do something like that you little weirdo. so, how’d I hold up to your little test?”

Tim shrugs. “I wouldn’t call it a test, more of a game to entertain myself really”. But Jason raises his eyebrows up at him, making him sigh. “Yeah okay, you lost the game or failed or whatever. But you did fare better than Big Blue, so there’s that.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason smirks, still clicking through photos.

“Yup”, Tim says, popping the ‘p’. And hoists himself up onto the brick parapet, back facing the city as his feet dangle about an inch off the concrete roof. He tilts his head at Jason when he doesn’t move from where he’s standing, low glow of the open camera screen illuminating his face.

“These are actually really good”, Jason finally says, looking up at him. “Like really clear and in focus. It’s impressive”. He walks over and hands the camera back, leaning against the brick.

“Thanks”, Tim smiles. “I’ve always been really into photography, y'know? It’s like capturing a moment in time and immortalising it, so it will exist forever, even when I'm gone. I really like that aspect of it”.

Jason hums in response. “Never took you as someone sentimental”, he comments.

Tim is quiet, but it’s obvious he’s thinking. And then he hums back. “I didn’t realise I was either”.

This time Jason is the one observing, watching Tim rub his thumb over the side of his camera, and wonders if Tim felt the same way about his photos from before he died, if he looked at the the same way he’s looking at these photos now… if he kept jason alive in still frames while he was gone.

Then he decides he’s making it too deep and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it as Tim turns his head towards him and scrunches up his nose. “Gross, dude.”

“What?” Jason asks, mildly offended.

“I hate the smell of cigarettes”, Tim states. “I don’t care if you smoke them just, not around me, please”, he says, nose still scrunched as he shimmies away, keeping his hands braced on the brick so he doesn’t fall backwards.

Normally, Jason would roll his eyes and take a deep inhale, maybe blow the smoke back out into the other person's face just to spite them. But Tim isn’t telling him not to smoke, he’s asking him not to smoke around him. And, maybe Tim’s scrunched up nose is kinda cute.

So he snubs the cigarette out and puts it back in its box to save for later. “Fine, but I’m getting something to eat then”, Jason complains.

“Cool, I know a really good burrito place not far from here”, Tim smiles, and then he’s throwing himself backwards off the roof, laughing loudly when Jason rushes up to look over the edge.

“You little fucker!” Jason shouts out as he watches Robin shoot his grappling line and swing from a lower roof across the way. “Oh, I’m gonna get that little shit!”, he grumbles to himself, taking a breath to calm the sudden spike of worried adrenaline Tim caused before chasing after him.

Tim pays for their burritos and a tub of Mexican rice before Jason even has the chance to get out his wallet, and they end up eating them on a roof together a block away.

“Ohh yeah, this is good stuff”, Jason moans around a mouthful, and Tim giggles around his plastic spoon. “Okay, you’re forgiven for scaring the shit out of me earlier”, he mumbles, taking another bite of his burrito.

Tim sits the rice aside to take a picture of Jason with food on his face, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. Then another photo of Jason sticking the finger up at him. “Lol thats gold, I might make that my laptop’s screensaver”, Tim laughs.

“The laptop you keep all your creepy stalker folders on?” Jason asks, mouth still half-full, leaning over to try and get a look at the camera screen. “oh my god I look so stupid, please don’t!” he laughs.

“Oh gross Jason!” Tim squeals, brushing little bits of burrito off his suit. “Stop talking with your mouth full, you’re getting food everywhere!” but Jason only laughs harder, and ends up choking.

Tim rubs his back as he chokes and sputters over the edge of the roof, and laughs at his expense. “Here, have some of my water.”

Jason ends up chugging all of Tim’s water, so Tim steals his Soda in retaliation. It ends up as a game of rooftop tag until they’re both out of breath and decide to head to their separate ways to get some rest.

And that becomes a frequent occurrence on quiet nights after that. Sometimes even working together on a few cases. It’s honestly quite a lot of fun for both of them, a nice change of pace from the usual doom and gloom of Gotham’s streets.

⧫

Tim is tinkering away with some sort of gadget in the Batcave one afternoon when Alfred stops by with some snacks on a silver platter. “Everything alright with you young sir?” he asks politely.

“Yeah Alf, everything's great actually”, Tim replies cheerfully. But Alfred loiters by him for a few moments too long, making Tim lift his head to look at him questioningly. “What’s up?”

Alfred frowns. “Nothing, Master Timothy. Just, do know that you can come to talk to me about anything if you need, absolutely anything”. He pats Tim on the shoulder in some kind of gesture of comfort before leaving Tim confused at his desk.

What was that about?

But Tim is even more confused later on patrol with Batman. Which was already odd actually, usually they don’t patrol together unless they’re working on a case together, or on a mission, or just something important– there’s nothing important happening tonight. B just told him that they were patrolling Midtown and to get in the batmobile.

And so there they were, driving around in dead silence.

“So… Tim, how’ve you been lately?” B asks, voice gruff and tone awkward.

That makes Tim turn around in his seat to face the older man with his whole body, confusion and worry on his face. “I’m good… why the sudden interest?” he asks cautiously. “Is there something up that I should be worried about?”

Bruce grunts and spares a glance at him before looking back at the road. “I was just asking.” and then, after a few beats of quiet: “You’ve been spending an awful amount of time around the Narrows and Crime Alley”, he states. Oh. That’s Jason’s territory.

Oh.

“Are you worried about Red Hood or something?” Tim asks. Well, this is… complicated.

Bruce grunts again. “Or something.” he turns the car around a sharp corner and Tim braces himself against the seat at the sudden change of route.

He thinks whatever that conversation is over, but a few moments later Batman speaks up again. “Just stay away from him. He’s bad news Robin.” Tim turns to give him a look. “I’m serious. No more patrolling Uptown”.

“What!?” Tim asks. “Are you banning me or something??”

“Yes.” And Tim knows his word is final. Batman’s word is law after all.

He huffs and sits back in his seat, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Fine, he won’t patrol in Uptown. He’ll just have to figure out a way to convince Jason to meet with him in Midtown somehow. No, that won’t work. Red Hood won’t leave his turf unattended to.

Buut. there is a loophole here that he can take advantage of…

[sparkleofpizza]

Wally West dating batsis - headcanon

A/n: So I had this sitting in my drafts since 2020, thought maybe it was time to post it. Does people even write headcanons like this anymore? 

You are younger than Dick and a few months older than Jason;

You were the second adopted child of Bruce Wayne;

He trained you to be the first Batgirl - before Barbara;

You and Wally met when Dick asked for your help with a mission with the Young Justice team, you were more than happy to do so;

Your older brother needed your help, that was great;

The moment Wally's eyes landed on you he was by your side, introducing himself;

"Hello gorgeous, welcome. I'm Wally." "Hi, I'm y/n." "Pretty name for a pretty face."

He kept flirting with you until Robin walked up to the two of you;

"Y/n, you're here." he said happily 

Wally looked between the two of you before opening his mouth to say to Dick he had a really hot friend;

Dick frowned at his best friend "This is my younger sister, West."

Wally had never been more horrified in his whole life, he was flirting with Dick's sister;

The shock only lasted a few days, he was back to flirting with you;

Every time he saw you he had a new pick up line ready;

You thought it was cute, but didn't think much of it;

Your brother didn't like it one bit, and you thought Wally was only doing this to get on your brothers nerves;

As the years went by and your father adopted Jason, Tim and Damian showed up, you and Wally kept up the same antics;

None of your brothers liked it one bit;

It appears that all of them saw Wally's true intensions except for you;

You had a few boyfriends over the years, some heartbreaks, and Wally would always find a way to cheer you up with his pick up lines and just his charm way of being;

He supported you when Jason died, offering you to stay at his place just to get away from the manor;

He was always there when you needed him, and that eventually lead to you realizing you were in love with your brother's best friend;

As you grew up you grew out of your role as Batgirl and decided you want to pursue other things in your life, such as going to college, getting a job and actually being normal;

You work at Wayne Enterprises with Tim, and since you gave up on being a vigilant, you became the face of the company, always attending to parties, galas and important events that your father and brother wouldn't be able to due to Batman and Red Robin;

You had a gala to attend and your boyfriend was being a jerk to you which led to a breakup;

You were a mess, crying all over the manor because you never show up to a place like a gala without a date, and not only were you without a date but you had just broken up with your boyfriend;

Your brothers were worried about you, Tim even offered to skip patrol and go to the gala with you, but you just kept blabbing nonsense;

Wally had stopped by the manor to talk to Dick about something and of course he couldn't miss the opportunity to talk to you;

Upon seeing the mess you currently was, he managed to calm you down and offered himself to be your date for the night;

If you didn't love him before, now you certainly did;

So you two went to the gala together, your brothers were suspicious because they didn't like the fact the Wally was always flirting with you, but Tim and Alfred talked some sense into them;

When you arrived home, very late at night, all your brothers and Bruce were awake waiting for you;

"Is this a right time to arrive home?" Damian questioned, crossing his arms over his chest  "Not even texting to let us know you were alright." Jason shook his head;

It should've been an intimidating sight, watching all of them batglare at you, clearly unpleased with you, but all you could do was giggle at them;

"I am older than most of you, I was with a superhero, and I am fine";

You turned to leave to your room, still smiling and thinking about your night;

They didn't try to stop you to keep saying you had been reckless or anything, you looked so happy, you never arrived this happy from an event before, and considering how sad you were earlier;

Wally had been the perfect gentleman the whole night, making sure you were fine and enjoining yourself;

That man is perfect;

After the night of the gala whenever Wally saw you and flirted with you, you would always blush - something that never happened before - and would occasionally flirt back, until he got the hint and finally asked you out on a date;

You two went on a few more dates before finally started dating; 

Dick couldn't even be too mad because he saw this coming for years;

He had mixed feelings, on one hand Wally is his best friend and he knows him a lot and knows he won't hurt you, on the other hand you are his little sister and he is a bit taken aback by the fact that you're dating his best friend and if things go wrong it will be very awkward, but hey, if it goes right Wally will be part of the family!

Jason, who lost a few good years of your friendship/sexual tension, was pissed;

Tim was happy to see you so happy, it was about time you two got together, although he was supportive, he did give Wally a warning before any of his other brothers could "I know all of your secrets, hurt her and I will end your life";

Damian was lived with anger, he did try to fight Wally with his katana, but the redhead just pulled it out of his grasp effortlessly, infuriating the little boy even further;

Bruce had to keep his tough guy appearance, but he was glad you were finally dating someone good, he trusted Wally and he knew the boy wouldn't hurt you;

Alfred was glad the torture of you two flirting without end was finally over, and also happy to see you happy;

You two did all sorts of things together, you started spending less time at the manor and more time at your apartment so Wally could hang out there without your family interrupting you two;

Soon enough you were basically living together;

He was literally the man of your dreams, you couldn't picture someone more perfect to have as your boyfriend.

[mossfrg]

Lost Talon au 3/?

Imagine Jason’s reaction to Dick being brought back. Like, Jason was the Robin right after Dick died— he had the biggest shoes to fill, coming immediately after the original. He was constantly trying to live up to the standards Dick unknowingly set. After he nearly died by the Joker’s hand and made his own identity, Jason felt more comfortable with himself and out to bed his worries.

But then Dick comes back, and he comes back wrong.

Jason had always privately hoped that one day this older brother would appear and take the reigns for him. The he would get to meet The Dick Grayson, have that man as an older brother.

Instead, Jason is still the oldest, and now has to deal with a half-brainwashed (non-consensually!!) genetically modified 18-year-old almost assassin who’s 12ish years out of place. What the fuck. He did not sign up for this.

Tim feels much the same way. He’s older than Dick, and that’s not something that should’ve ever happened. Tim remembers seeing Dick at galas, remembers his warm tanned skin and bright blue eyes when he’d smile. Remembers being taught how to do a flip and a cartwheel by a boy who claimed to fly from chandeliers. Remembers a kind older boy sneaking him into the gardens when things got too loud and he was so young and couldn’t handle the way his parents looked at him but this older boy was giving him the time of day-

And now that boy is younger than him. Blue eyes replaced by cold, unflinching gold. Skin still tan, but paler with a gray tint to it; black veins crawl up his throat and down his arms. He’s cold to the touch. He’s still kind, but much more hesitant in showing that softness; more likely to flash his claws than return a gentle hug. And that’s not to mention the wings, over 20ft of feathers and muscle tucked between his shoulders (he still perches on chandeliers though).

Damian had never met the First Son his Father had taken in. He’s heard countless stories of the brave, kind, caring, innocent child who creates the Robin mantle. Who didn’t kill, who made jokes, who was kind and sweet and friendly. Damian, unlike the other two, didn’t worry about living up to Grayson, but to living up to the innocent he brought. How could Damian ever be a good Robin when his hands were stained with blood?

But then Grayson, Richard, had been found. And he had blood on his hands. Less so than Damian himself, of course, and less than even Todd or Drake. But still. It was blood. And he’d gone under much the same training Damian himself had. The First Robin, trained and bloodied like Damian. Who took one look at Damian wearing his family’s name and colors and beamed for the first time since they’d brought him home, wings extending to wrap around him as he cooed, who’d heard that Todd and Drake had also shared the mantle and dragged them into the hug too, proclaiming them family and his flock, “or colony if you really want to stick with the bat theme, B, but I think it’s telling that 4/4 of your sidekicks went with a bird theme, maybe you should think of being Birdman-“

Richard Grayson, who despite everything, still managed to be himself after 12 years. Damian thinks it gives him a little hope and privately, thinks that if Richard can be so good after what he’s been through, there’s a chance Damian can be good too. Not that he’s ever say that aloud; he’s the Blood Son after all, even if Richard was the First Son.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

THE FINAL TESTAMENT OF JASON PETER TODD

《 READ ON AO3 》

Now it all made sense. The bath, the haircut, the script, the suit, the camera… Joker was going to send a video to Batman, and Batman was gonna know that Robin was a traitor, that Bruce was justified when he picked a new kid for the job instead of rescuing the old one.

《RATING》 Teen 《WORDS》 1,544

《CHARACTERS》 Jason Todd/Robin, Joker, Bruce Wayne (mentioned)

《TROPES》 Heavy Angst

《WARNINGS》 Implied/Referenced Torture, Self-Loathing, Swearing

《SERIES》 Part 5 of My Arkhamverse, Part 5 of Ruined

《TAGLIST》 @aaliyah-wayne @ladytauria @betty-1880 @deans-spinster-witch @hlg8 @plantixst

《NOTES》

This is the final flashback scene from Jason's POV.

This is actually the prologue to an upcoming fic, but I felt like it worked better as a standalone (when you see the tags for the upcoming fic you’ll understand 🤡)

Shoutout to @1dragon-mustard1 for beta-ing this for me 🥰

If you enjoy the read please kudos, comment, and reblog 💚

《 READ ON AO3 》 (excerpt below the cut)

He was back in the suit.

Sure, it was nice to be dressed in something more than a pair of ragged boxer briefs, but why couldn’t it have been anything other than this goddamned suit. The Clown had had the suit for days/weeks/months now; the least he could’ve done was wash it. But no, dried blood still stained the chestpiece a darker shade of red, the green undersuit still reeked of an amalgam of bodily fluids.

He’d lost so much weight in this shithole that the suit barely fit him now. But in truth, had this suit ever really fit him? He was nothing but a thug, a loser, a corner boy from the streets of Crime Alley; a wannabe gangster, like his deadbeat dad, the bastard he’d helped send to an early grave. Robin doesn’t sell his own blood to the mob. Robin doesn’t sneak off to murder a man. Robin doesn’t get his dumbass captured by that very same man. He should never have donned this suit. It was meant for a better man than he ever was, a better man than he could ever dream of being.

He’d had a sackful of cash that day, had thrown the cops. He should’ve kept walking, should’ve minded his own business as usual. Instead he’d decided to play the hero for some damn reason. If he hadn’t dragged Batman to safety, he might’ve moved from the corner to a crew, or maybe he’d wound up in a ditch with his head blown off. Either way, he wouldn’t be here suffering every day of his life, wouldn’t have been reduced to a psycho’s sniveling pet.

I wish I’d never met Bruce Wayne…

Sweat was pouring off him as he sat simmering under the heat of the two spotlights Joker had his goons wheel in. He was parked in a new storage room. All the junk had been hauled out—wheelchairs, gurneys, screens, metal tables, assorted medical equipment—everything except the spotlights, his wooden chair from the torture chamber, a single flickering candle at his feet, and a video camera atop a tripod. An attempt to disguise his location, he presumed. A waste of time. No one was looking for him. No one cared if he lived or died.

The Clown was behind the camera, muttering about wires and other shit Jason couldn’t care less about. He sat as straight as his ruined shoulders would allow (which was to say, hunched over like an old man) and stared down at the cracked black-and-white tiles while he waited for the camera to start rolling. He’d rehearsed this scene with Joker many times, always with a cattle prod on hand to make certain he didn’t forget his lines. He tried to ignore the panic rising inside him, tried concentrating on his breathing instead. This video was certain to end up in Batman’s hands. He had no intention of showing Bruce who he truly was: a terrified little coward, the Clown’s despicable creature.

Soon would be the moment of truth. “His name. Tell me.” Each time they rehearsed Joker would shock him with the prod before he could answer. But it was showtime now. Would he betray his former partner to the Clown? The man who’d scooped him up off the street, who’d given him a home, a family, a chance at a better life? The man who’d adopted him, who’d actually believed in him? Bullshit. He never believed in you. You were a stopgap. A charity case, that’s all you ever were to the man. Another PR stunt for Gotham’s sweetheart Bruce Wayne.

“Man alive, you gotta be crazy to figure these newfangled gadgets out, am I right?” Joker’s nasally voice cut through his thoughts, which was good. He needed to be ready to perform at his best. If he fucked this up, there’d be more pain waiting for him. He just wanted to get this over with so he could crawl back into his photo-covered corner and maybe, if he was lucky, snatch an hour or two of restless sleep before it all began again.

“All right, I think I got it!” Joker exclaimed, and Jason’s heart crawled into his throat. “Just act natural, kid. You’re going to be my shining star! Now,

“three…

“two… 

“one…

“action!”

Read the rest on AO3→

[dg-outlaw]

Emotional Damage. Worse than the Joker?

After sitting with Batman #138, I got to thinking about how much emotional damage Bruce inflicted on Jason with what he did to Jason. Working through some things myself lately, I thought more about fear and how it relates to survival, endurance, and the hang-ups we have that affect our lives. But less about me and more about Jason Todd.

Yes, I know there’s the idea that it’s all Zur-En-Arrh and not really Bruce, but still. If there was something to snap Bruce out of whatever battle is going on in his mind, mentally altering (without consent) and "abusing" his own son in such a deep way, should’ve been it.

I know some have cited how adrenaline kicks in during all sorts of activities and scenarios (and not just in times of violence or aggression), which is true, but what I thought about was how much adrenaline and will has played a part in Jason’s overall survival as a character.

As a boy who grew up in Crime Alley with a drug addicted mother, Catherine, that he cared for often, his childhood was probably filled with fear. But giving into fear is something that likely doesn’t help you survive in Crime Alley, especially when Jason became orphaned. He fended for himself, took care of Catherine until she died, and then took care of himself. He was probably afraid all the time, but he pushed through with adrenaline, cortisol, and whatever else he needed to survive.

Then Bruce happened. As Jason Todd he was given a bit of peace, but then it was back to survival mode as a Robin—though likely a choice he made with Bruce’s approval because what little boy wouldn’t want to be Robin? The role of Robin alone is all about adrenaline, survival, and combatting fear.

Then there was the Joker.

We all know the story, but I think about it again as I see posts about the young actress who played Ahsoka in the live-action series and how it helped some contextualize the idea of child soldiers and just how young Ahsoka was during the Clone Wars. The same can be said for the Robins. So now we can think about a young, scrawny boy, alone in a warehouse getting beaten nearly to death by a psychopath with a crowbar. Again, fear, loneliness, and potential loss of hope. But Jason endured, and even in the end tried to save himself and his mother through use of adrenaline and sheer force of will.

Flash forward and Jason is suddenly alive, still broken and bruised but basically buried alive. More fear and another chance to let it finish him off, but Jason doesn’t give in. He pushes fear aside, breaks through his casket, and crawls out from his grave. Again, still a teenager and still alone as he wandered the streets, confused and hungry. All of this to say that Jason is fucking survivor, probably more so than Bruce (IMO).

Bruce may have harnessed and used his fear, but he suppresses it. Jason owns it, lives it, and has had it looking over his soldier for as long as he can probably remember. It probably whispers in his ear all the time and says, “You’re still just a scared little boy and you’re going to die. Just give up.” But he doesn’t. Yes, he’s easily written off as the angry one or the one always pissing everyone off, but I think that’s just his defense mechanism. It’s the wall that hides his fear, but unlike Bruce he wears his heart on his sleeve and isn’t afraid to let his emotions out, even when he tries not to. I want to believe those behaviors are Jason venting his fear and anger so they don’t consume him or so he doesn't get hurt, even if he doesn’t always do it in the most healthy of ways.

So yeah, for Bruce to think that somehow Jason is going to live some happy American Dream in Metropolis (God forbid any aliens or bad guys attack that city, something that never happens), then Bruce still doesn’t know his son.

In way, whether it’s all Zur-En-Arrh’s doing or not, turning Jason’s adrenaline into crippling fear, taking a core part of him that has kept him alive and fighting all these years, is worse than what the Joker did.

So I don’t think any amount of Bat or Big Belly burgers and hugs will fix that. My only hope, based on the description for Red Hood, Issue #2: (JASON TODD PREPARES FOR BATTLE! Batman's plan for Jason Todd backfires…but in a good way? The Red Hood prepares for the final battle of the Gotham War…but what will he have left when the dust settles?!), is that Jason finds a way to overcome Bruce’s programming on his own. I think if Bruce created a failsafe for the failsafe, or if one of the other Batfam members helps him, it’ll cheapen his character. I’m fine if someone is there to support him, but I think if the writers want to respect Jason and show his strength as a character, it’ll be Jason doing the work to prove his will is stronger than Bruce’s when he beats the fear programming. We even see this in a different way in Urban Legends when Jason was able to fight off the Cheer gas to save Bruce.

But for now, when I see this.

I’ll think about this Bruce and Jason instead.

[rubydubydoo122]

In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason)

“Shit.” Dick squatted down right where he was and ran his fingers through his hair, “Fuck.” He ran his hands down his face, “Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern.”

Jason blinked. He was still picturing his lifeless eyes staring up into the sky. He was still picturing his frozen body curled into the corner of the dumpster. He was still feeling the way Bruce cradled his lifeless body. “Huh?”

Dick looked to Bruce for help, but something must’ve clicked, “You knew? Bruce, you knew and didn’t–”

“I didn’t want it to be true.” 

“Ah, yes. And the multiverse is just going to bow down to your will.” Dick spit back venomously.

“Obviously not. Dick, it was two times, I didn’t want to worry you two if I was wrong.”

“Since when have you ever cared about worrying us? At least if you’d’ve told us, we could’ve saved Jason!”

Jason decided that if Bruce and Dick were going to make a scene, he was going to take in their surroundings. Make sure someone like… Ultraman doesn’t show up. 

They were on the Wayne Enterprise rooftop… and was that… whispering? Jason stood up and let out a whistle, “Oi! Quit the bickering!” He signed ‘ Someone’s here’ ,  and continued talking “I swear, it’s like we were sent back ten years.” Keeping a hand on the kris in his pocket, Jason rounded the corner where he heard the whispers coming from.

There was someone lurking in the shadows of the HVAC unit. He almost didn’t notice them, but after years of fighting the bats and assassins, and bat-assassins, he knew what to look for. “I can see you.” 

The person lept from the shadows, running at him with a metal stick. A bo staff. It was also a kid, who was very obviously new with the weapon. Jason grabbed the stick, and yoinked it out of the kid’s hand before he could land a hit on him. “Hold it, kid. I’m–”

Suddenly a bundle of red, green, and yellow kicked him right in the Jaw, and punched him in the gut, “Get away or–” He could see the recognition and confusion flutter across Robin’s face, “Who are you?”

“It’s One bad night for ART.” Jason put his hand in the air.

Robin put his hands on his hips and tilted his head to the side, with a little smile “That’s not mine, that’s B’s.” 

“You’re really gonna make me sing it?” Why couldn’t he have chosen a poem or something. Actually, no. He’s been telling poems to Jason's seconds away from death. He should’ve chosen an emo phrase like Bruce. “ I've lived long enough to have learned; The closer you get to the fire, the more you get burned; But that won't happen to us; 'Cause it's always been a matter of trust” 

A soft smile spread across Robin’s face, “You sound just like Papi. Give me one minute to yell at this Cabron. ” he spun around to the kid. “ You are supposed to be back at the cave. Agent A is gonna be so mad at you.”

Now that the kid was in the light and not attacking him, Jason could get a much better look at him. He was slightly taller than Robin, but based on the baby fat on his face and the scolding, he was probably younger. He had an awful bowl cut, (which, wow, his parents must hate him for that,) and was wearing a domino and a black sweatshirt. There was a camera strung around his neck.“What Agent A doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he’s on vacation.”

Robin scoffed, “Agent A always knows. I bet his butler senses are sending out a beacon to give you a look as we speak.”

“Well, I’m sorry if you’re a shit liar, but I think I can get away with it.”The kid gave him an ‘I'm scheming’ grin that was eerily reminiscent of Tim.

Wait. Hold up, “Tim?”

“Apapapapa,” Tim held up a finger, “Codenames and it’s Crow.”

“No it’s not. We just call him Egg. Since he’s supposed to be in the nest.”

Oh, Jason is totally calling Tim and Damian Eggs when they get back to their timeline.

Tiny Tim groaned, “You’re not the boss of me.”

“Well, I’m older. So yeah, kinda.”

“I’m taller.”

Robin crossed his arms, “I’m sorry if you missed the part where that giant is me.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, “So technically, I’m taller.”

Tim frowned and then looked to Dick, “Is alternate reality me taller than Jason?”

Dick winced apologetically, “Sorry, Timmy, you only reach 5’6”.”

Tim let out a long spew of curses and something about his winning argument.

Bruce came out of the shadows he was hiding in, “Language.”

Robin raised his eyebrows, “So all Bruce’s are the same across dimensions?”

Dick made a so-so motion, “Our Bruce is older and grumpier.”

“We’ll fix that.” He grinned and gave Tim a look that could only spell out trouble. “I’m gonna call our Batman. Then you’ll probably be given some light interrogation, but then we can go to the cave and have hot chocolate together!” 

Now that the kid mentioned it, Jason was really hungry. And tired. How many hours have they been at this cosmic adventure? Four? It would be well into the morning in their Gotham. 

Robin lifted a finger to his ear, “Batman, we have an Egg out of the Nest. I repeat, we have an Egg out of the Nest. Also we have an ART situation.” a pause, “calm down, they’re nice.” Another pause, “I am not too trusting. I just have a good judge of character. It’s a different version of Me, you, and Nightwing, but older and they said they had their own Egg, so really, how bad could they be?” Robin grinned, “Also, N looks like he’s in his protective big brother mode, so we’re safe with them. We’re on top of the Wayne Enterprise building.” The grin faded into a soft smile, “Yeah, yeah, me too, Old man. Take your time. Grapple safely. Don’t hurt your back” Robin brought his finger from the com, and looked to Bruce, “You ok, B-man? You look like you’re gonna hurl.” 

Bruce shook his head, “Nothing. It’s just, you can be too trusting of people you want to believe you can trust.”

Jason groaned, “Oh my– Bruce, it was literally one singular time. I told you we would talk about it later.” Preferably, it would be never, but Bruce is going to keep pushing it in his own Bruce way.

“Hey, Skunk-Hair Jason, Are you gonna give me back my bo-staff?”

Was Tim a little shit in every universe? Jason saw something flicker across Robin’s face at the comment though. That’s fair, his Tim called him skunk-hair often, but that was probably the first time Robin heard it. It’s gonna do wonders for his self esteem.

He heard the telltale sound of a grapple hooking behind him, “I think I’ll just give it to Daddy-bats.” He pressed the button to retract the staff, and tossed it over his shoulder. 

As expected Batman caught it, “Egglett, I thought we agreed, no more sneaking out.”

“But I didn’t sneak out, I walked out of the front door. Besides, this isn’t our biggest problem right now. Dick, you said there was a pattern? I’m assuming it’s related to the realities you’re being sent to.”

Dick glanced at Robin, “Yes, but…” He looked to Bruce for help.

Batman moved so they were all standing in a relative circle. Meaning he was in between Jason and Jason, “How about you start from the beginning, Chum.” It was his Bruce voice, not his Batman voice. 

So Dick told him. How they’d gotten hit by the interdimensional ray, how they were in the warehouse, how they thought they were sent to the past, at first, how Jason had died. 

He saw the way Robin moved a step closer to Batman. He noticed how Batman shifted his weight closer to Robin.

Dick then moved on to tell them about the Alley. About the sudden confusion, because they were definitely in Gotham, just not their Gotham. He told them about the frozen kid in the corner. Jason.

At that, Robin seemed to freeze. Definitely thinking about the Man who had saved them. Weighing the pros and cons of life and innocence. Death and sins. Though, Tim seemed to pick up the pattern, and grabbed Robin’s hand.

And finally, Dick told them about them walking back from the library. And a 13 year old Jay getting hit by a car.

“So…you think I’m gonna die.” Robin didn’t look all that scared, but Jason knew himself. It was in the way he crossed his arms, and looked at Dick defiantly. It was in the way he was in fight mode. Then like an omen, the bat signal lit up. If it’s the Joker, Jason is going to scream. 

Batman placed a hand on Robin’s shoulder. The one that was farther from him, so it was more of a half-hug. “Do you think it could be anything else? Maybe a smaller detail you missed?”

They all turned to Bruce, but Bruce just shook his head. 

Batman nodded slowly, “Alright, we’re all going back to the cave. I’m assuming your suits are in the duffle, so you two,” He pointed to Dick and Bruce, “Can suit up. The kids can be on house arrest. Once we deal with that,” Batman pointed at the bat signal, “we can work a way to get you three home.” 

There were protests from Robin and Tim, but Bruce fixed them with a batglare™ which shut them up immediately. 

Jason raised his hand, “What’ll I be doing?”

Batman blinked at him, “You’ll… be at the manor.”

The kids will be on house arrest , He thinks Jason’s a kid then. “Oh. ok.” It’s ok. He’d make good use of this.

The drive to the cave sucked. Mainly because the Bruces got front seat privileges, and the four of them had to squish together in the back.  Jason did solve the problem by propping his knees up against the passenger seat and making sure to kick it every once in a while to annoy Bruce. Dick, who was sitting in the middle, used the newfound space to stretch out his legs, and give Robin and Tim more room. 

Robin had wrapped his cape around himself, like he was a burrito. Jason forgot he used to do that. It was mainly because the Robin suit had too much leg. Even if he was wearing tights under longer shorts. It was less revealing than Dick’s version of the suit, but still mildly uncomfortable at times.

Tim was squished in between Dick and Robin, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he shifted so that his head was resting on Robin’s shoulder. Robin froze slightly at the touch, but then lowered his cheek to rest on the top of Tim’s head.

God, is this how he and Tim would’ve been if Jason hadn’t died? The bickering on the roof, but moments where you could tell they really cared about each other. And yeah, sure, Jason and Tim definitely bickered now, but sometimes, with everyone, he felt like he was making his way through glass that had shattered on the floor.

Dick discreetly took a picture of the two, which was a bad idea, because it would just hurt more in the long run. When they had to go home and this reality would never be theirs. When Dick realized that the brother he wanted would never be Jason, because the Jason he wanted was long dead.

As soon as they got to the cave, Bruce and Dick made a beeline to the stalls to change. And all Jason could think about was how much the cave had changed since his time as Robin.

It was a lot emptier. The area for the training mats were smaller, Tim’s collection of bo-staffs was down to two, and Damian’s sword and knife collection wasn’t even there. Half of the work benches were gone, and so were half of the vehicles they now used. 

Most importantly, the two cases that held the suits of two dead Robins weren't there. It was just… an empty space. 

Batman walked up to him, and grunted, “Jay was wrong, I’m still taller than you.”

Jason blinked for a minute, because Batman? Making jokes? “Your ears don’t count.”

Batman pulled down the cowl, and did the thing where you measure with your hand. Except he went up a bit, so that his hand barely brushed his curls, “Yup, still taller.”

It hurt. It was weird looking at a Bruce who was younger. The one Jason wished to come back to since he crawled out of his grave, only to find the Bruce he was looking for had died too. Maybe that’s the reason why he and Bruce were never on the same page anymore. They were looking for someone in each other who only existed in their memories. Jason and Bruce would never be the same people they were before that day in Ethiopia. 

He glanced over to where Jay was helping Tim take off his domino without getting the glue dissolver in his eyes. “I’m not that kid, ya know.”

Bruce gave him a rueful smile, “I can tell, but you’re still my kid. Alternate reality or not.” 

It was as if he had grabbed Jason's heart with both hands and started to squeeze it until it would eventually explode. The only reason Bruce could say that was because he didn’t know half the things Jason had done. He didn’t know anything about him at all. 

Bruce looked like he was about to say something else, but the security alarms started going off, immediately displaying on the Batcomputer.

Dick and Bruce(the older one) burst out of the stalls.

There were Joker goons– why did it have to be the Joker?– flooding onto the lawn, jumping over the fence, and heading straight to the manor. So they were after Bruce Wayne, not Batman.

Except it was the Joker. And something, something Jay dying. And something, something the Joker murdered Jason. Things are not really looking good. 

Bruce(the younger one) pulled up his cowl, and looked at Jay and Tim, “Stay here.” He then made eye contact with Jason, with a look that clearly said ‘ look after them’ , then looked to Bruce(the older one), and to Dick, “Lets go.”

And the three of them glided up the stairs.

They watched the Batmans and Nightwing split up and make their way through the manor, on the Batcomputer. He watched as they silently took the goons out one by one. He watched as the Joker waltzed right into the manor. Damn, if Alfred was here, he would have shot that psychotic lunatic down already. 

Jason saw a little shadow dart past the Study. Except… It was too small for Bruce or Dick, but Robin was sitting right next to him, looking at the screen intently, hand hovering to warn them if needed. And the spot where Tim was standing was empty. “Tim?”

If they weren’t in the situation they were currently in, it would’ve been comical how wide Robin’s eyes got. Then his jaw clenched, “Why in the world would he sneak off now of all times?”

“Tim’s just a little shit across universes.” Jason paused, because if some rando started talking like that about Tim, he would probably give them a nice slap across the face, “He’s doing that thing where he comes up with a plan and forgets not everyone is on the same brainwave as him.”

Robin groaned, and reached over to click on something, “Tim, care to share what you’re doing with the class?”

There was a lengthy pause, but they could see Tim on the camera, crouched down behind a decorative couch in the fancy living room, “Arming the traps.”

Robin crossed his arms and started tapping his foot, “You really think that two Batmans and a Nightwing can’t take down the Joker?”

“I just want to help.”

“You can’t–”

Jason placed an arm on Robin’s shoulder, “How ‘bout this Tim, We switch places and you tell me how to arm the traps from the cave?” 

“But–”

“I’m only gonna ask once. I’m coming up there to get you either way.” Jason moved to grab his helmet from the duffle bag and a couple of shurikens from the rack.

“...fine. I– Eep!”

Jason turned his head to the screen so fast, he was sure he’d get whiplash. There on screen was the Joker holding Tim by the collar.

A laugh came through the coms, “I think it’s a bit past your bedtime. Don’t worry, Uncle J will tell you a bedtime story…”

Jason was already halfway up the stairs, “Stay here, Robin. Tell Batman.” Robin nodded, and Jason practically sprinted across the manor to get to Tim.

He could practically hear Bruce yelling at him in his brain about attacking the Joker without a plan, but here’s the thing— Jason genuinely did not care. He was going to make sure what happened to him would not happen to this baby version of his little brother. The Joker connives to get a rise out of Batman. It’s why he terrorizes the city. It’s why his exploits get worse and worse. It’s why he hurt Babs and killed Jason. And the Joker has only gotten worse as time went on.

Jason reached the living room and was about to fling a shuriken at the Joker’s arm to make him drop Tim, but he suddenly moved to put Tim in a headlock, with a gun to his head. 

It was eerily reminiscent of the way Jason had held the Joker during that confrontation. With Him, Bruce, and the Joker.

The Joker let out a laugh that grated against his ears like nails on a chalkboard, “And who might you be? For a second there I thought you were one of mine.” The Joker tilted his head, “Though, maybe you are… did you raid Daddy’s wardrobe? I do say, you look nice, but I think I wore it better.”

Jason tsked in a way that would make Damian proud, “With your pasty looking face? No chance. Let the kid go.” 

The Joker pouted, “But the show hasn’t even started! We don’t even have a full house yet. Batsy’s going to have to make a tough choice, huh?”

There was a crackle of electricity near the other entrance to the living room, “Let him go.” Dick’s voice was dangerously low.

“Well if it isn’t the first boy blunder. My, my, you’ve grown up quite a bit. And a new costume change I see? A shame, I liked the other one better. Though I do suppose this one leaves more to the imagination.”

Jason was going to strangle the clown, and then bash his face in, and then grab his gun and shoot him multiple times, and then–

The Joker brought the gun closer to Tim’s head, “Apapa, Big Red. Wouldn’t want Timmy’s big brains painting the carpet. The dry cleaning would be just terrible.” started cackling like he had just said the funniest joke ever.

He could see the panic flash on Tim’s face for a second, before he closed his eyes and took a slow breath, and painted over the fear with apathy. It was something his Tim could do much faster, but it was still… unnerving to watch a kid barely older than 10 do. Tim rolled his eyes, “You know for someone named the Joker, you’re not very funny. I’ve seen Batman laugh at Robin loads of times. He’s known you for what, fifteen years? Yet you still haven’t gotten a laugh out of him.”

The Joker hit Tim’s temple with the gun “Shut it, brat.” He turned his gaze onto Dick, “Say, Nightwing, what would ya do if I… say, killed the little b–haha! The kid. What would you do if I killed him? Would you punch me hard? Maybe if I fanned the fire, would the punches keep coming? Would they? Until I could no longer see straight? Until I could no longer breathe.” the Joker giggled “And only my Dark Knight in shining armor– a true love's kiss from Batsy could bring me back.” The Joker, since he got out all he needed to say, let out a full body laugh.

Dick’s jaw clenched so hard, Jason would’ve thought he was about to break a tooth. 

And Tim had the biggest ‘what in the ever loving fuck?’ expression on his face, “Mr. Joker sir, could you put me down? I think you’re a bit too delusional if you think you’re even close to being in Batman’s league.”

“Tim–” Dick was about to warn him to probably take the sass down three notches when the Joker started laughing again. Both Batmen stood at the same entrance as Dick, though their 

“Batsy! There’s two of you! This is wonderful!” He frowned, and looked directly at Jason, “Hm… I wonder where the little birdie is? Hehehe, Oh well, we can just start without him. Good thing too, my hands are getting sweaty. Who knows, my finger might just slip…” The Joker curled the finger that was on the trigger, but Jason knew he wasn’t going to pull it. Not yet. It wasn’t dramatic enough yet. Batman subtly shifted closer to Jason. 

Figures. Of course he would make sure that he could get in between the Joker and Jason if need be. Though, as much as it pains him, he wasn’t going to try to kill this one. Not because the Joker deserved to be spared or because Bruce told him to stop killing. No. It was because he knew Robin was watching through the cameras, and he didn’t want that version of himself to see the person he had become.

“Such an old house. I wonder if there are any ghosts here.” The Joker looked at Jason and shivered, but it was for the bit, because he gave him a grin that made his blood run cold, “Haha! Definitely. Though… I can feel something in the air. Like it’s making room for another ghost to join.” The Joker laughed, “Now, I based this off of a dream I had once. How did it go again? Right, I didn’t have an extra gun on hand, but it’s ok! Hehe, you won’t need it anyways.” He readjusted his grip on Tim and gave Jason a wink, “ You want to stop me, you’re going to have to kill me. All you’ve got is a head-shot. I’m going to blow his addled, deranged brains out, and if you want to stop it– Hahaa! You’re going to have to shoot me, Hehehee! right in my face.” The uncontrollable laughter kept getting louder and louder– How did he know ? They were in a completely different reality , How did he know ? “Of course, you don’t have a gun, so maybe a batarang would do. Right to the neck.” The Joker looked back to Jason, his head tilting as his grin grew impossibly bigger, “This is turning out so much better than I thought. I’ll give you to the count of three. One… Two…Thr–”

“ No!” Except it didn’t come from Batman, or Batman, or Dick. It came from Jason. But It didn’t come from Jason. It came from Robin .

A batarang hit the elbow that was holding Tim, sending him to the floor just as a shot rang out. Except the bullet didn’t clatter to the floor or into the wall, there was the sound of metal piercing through skin. But it didn’t hit Tim. Because the barrel wasn’t facing where Tim had been

It was facing Jay.  

Blood was gushing from the kid’s neck as cackles rang throughout the Manor.

“You know that’s how you wanted that night to end, Red. You aren’t supposed to be here, and you know it. Not here, not anywhere! Haha, you’re supposed to be– ACK!” 

Jason couldn’t tell if there was electricity crackling, or if it was just the static in his ears. He couldn’t tell if there was the sound of skin meeting skin, or if it was just the pounding of his heart. 

All he knew was that he took off his helmet as he bent down to put pressure on the bleeding. The bullet went through the side of his neck. Almost exactly where Jason had his scar from the batarang. Except the wound was deeper and he was losing more blood. And Jay was smaller.

Tim crawled up to them, “J-Jason…?”

Even through the domino mask, Jason could feel the demanding gaze from Jay, “No. Tim. ‘s not… y’r fault.”

“But, if-if I hadn’t left, then- then the Joker, he wouldn’t’ve–”

“Not. Your. Fault.” Jay grabbed Tim’s hand, “Don’t… die. Not f’r a… long time. Live.”

“You– You’re the one who’s…You’re actively bleeding out. Right now.”

“No. Batman… d’sn’t need…  R’bin. Br’ce…Bruce needs…. Someone’a… tell ‘im he’s not… ‘n dark. Bruce. Needs. Us.” Jay brought a weak hand from his heart to Tim’s, “Hope.” Jay looked to Jason, and gave him a tired smile, “‘s the thin’... w’th… feathers.”

Jason tried his best to return the smile, “ ”Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -” Jay gave a content breath out. He closed his eyes to just… listen. “ And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird- That kept so many warm -” with each stanza, Jay’s pulse got slower and slower. “I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.”

Jay took one breath in, and he could see Tim squeeze his hand tighter. And as he let his final breath out, there was a soft, “ Te Amo.” that escaped Jay’s lips.

“Jason?” There were tears pooling in Tim’s eyes, “Jason, please . Say sike right now, this isn’t funny.” 

Jason leaned back and started to take off his bloodstained gloves, “Tim–”

“I-I promise I won’t sneak out to take pictures anymore. I promise I won’t sneak coffee, and I- I won’t lie to Alfred. I won’t make fun of your height anymore, just please – Jason , I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Come back.” 

“Tim…”

He looked up at Jason all bleary eyed, “Why won’t he say sike? He’s Robin , he- he– he can’t be gone.”

Jason spread his arms, and Tim immediately dove into his chest and started sobbing, “He- He’s never… He’s never going to be… big like you.”

Jason held onto Tim, “ Pajarito…” He rubbed small circles into Tim’s back as he sobbed harder. 

He wanted to stay. He didn’t want to leave Tim all alone just like that. He didn’t want Tim to lose one Jason just to lose another.

But the room turned white, and they were gone.

[brie-annwyl]

Ideas for batfamily fanfics that I want to read, and if they don’t exist, I might write them.

Jason Todd coming back to Gotham to be Red Hood but is just like “fück these bitches (his family)” and doesn’t target Tim or fuck with anything outside of Crime Alley, Tim being the super stalker he is finds out Jason is back and is Red Hood, Tim tries to get him back into the family without revealing to Jason he knows he’s Red Hood whilst Jason is looking at Red Robin like “why tf is this child asking a known murderer to come have tea with him? How does he have worse self preservation skills than Bruce? Is this what Dick felt when I did stupid shit?”

Tim getting de-aged and everyone realizes that this toddler is kinda messed up.

Jason’s Death anniversary comes along and Jason gets drunk as fuck and says how he actually feels about everything in his life. That normally wouldn’t be an issue, but he just so happens to be in the concerned presence of his father.

Jason’s Death anniversary but everyone is “busy” so he ends up spending the day alone even though all he wanted to do was celebrate with his family the fact that he was still here.

Bruce gets hit by a gas whilst on patrol that makes him say whatever he’s thinking, Jason is the one to find him and take him back to the cave. Communication ensues.

Dick tries to be the bigger brother he should’ve been to Jason before he died, but Jason has already accepted the fact that he wasn’t good enough for Dick to care, and no amount of reassurances can change his mind.

Jason is getting sick of everyone mourning over the 15 year old they put in the ground as if people can’t change in a few years. His death wasn’t the only thing that changed him, he grew up. His still Jason, and he wished they could see that.

Tim sits at Jack Drake’s bedside, tubes down his throat and a ventilator humming softly at his side, he tries to reminisce about pleasant memories with his parents before he truly becomes an orphan. The only issue is, there are none.

Bruce Wayne doesn’t cry, he’s been in the public eye for almost every second of his life and they have never seen him cry. That is until the day his second son was buried.

Damian mentions the fact that he is the only blood son because it is actually his biggest insecurity. The rest were chosen to be Bruce’s children. He was forced onto him. One night after a particularly rough patrol and confrontation afterwards, Damian feels his worst fear is confirmed. It doesn’t matter if blood is thicker than water, he’s still the unwanted child.

[masterofmunson]

promises, promises (5)

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, accuses you of cheating on him due to your strange behavior. If only you could tell him you were hunting interdimensional monsters instead.

Word Count: 5.8k+

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT SMUT (oral m receiving, fingering, praise kink, choking kink (not really, his hand just rests on her throat), gagging, dacryphilia, slight soft!dom!eddie if you squint hard enough), MINORS DNI I MEAN IT, language, mentions of death, violence, think that’s it but if there’s more that I haven’t mentioned, let me know!

Author’s Note: Here she is! Please let me know what you think. I mentioned it earlier, but this story will now be seven parts instead of six. As always, comments/reblogs/asks are very much encouraged and appreciated xoxo

“I was worried you were going to listen to Jason and hurt me, you know,” you confessed to Lucas the next morning.

You spent the night in Nancy’s basement with Steve, Dustin, and Max while Robin slept in Nancy’s bedroom. You watched Max throughout the night, watching her for two-hour increments before it was one of the boys’ turns. You don’t remember if she slept.

While you switched off on Max Watch, you attempted to comb through all the documents from The Watcher that Nancy and Robin gathered from the library yesterday about Victor Creel. You were looking for a needle in a haystack. The amount of questions the four of you gathered was enough to overwhelm you and stop for the rest of night.

Lucas turned to look at you and hurt flashes across his face. Despite the years between you, you had always been close, and like Max, he would come to you for relationship advice. You never took sides when they fought and ran to you. You talked them through their issues and helped them come together, but that was before Billy died.

Max had broken up with Lucas after Starcourt, and it devastated Lucas far more than all the other times they broke up. It felt permanent, lasting, and all you could do was offer a shoulder to lean on since Max wouldn’t return your calls.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said, glancing down at his toes. “I didn’t think that Jason would actually go on a manhunt for Eddie. I should’ve stopped him. I’m sorry.”

You smile softly at the young teen and gently nudge him with your shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m glad you decided to leave the Dark Side. Eddie will be thrilled.”

Lucas laughed and shook his head. “You sound just like him.”

Silence falls over the basement as your eyes flicker towards the corner Max had been held up in for the last hour. With her headphones on, she writes furiously at the small desk. The soft sound of Kate Bush spills into the basement. The four of you can’t help but stare at her backside. The thought that Max may be gone sometime today terrifies you.

The door to the basement opens and Nancy and Robin hurry down the stairs with a series of files in hand. Nancy takes the seat beside you and hands you a red folder. Opening it, a sheet of paper spills out with your name on it with a handful of extra-curricular activities and honors you did in high school with a few embellishments.

“What’s this?” you asked, holding up the folder in front of the group before passing it on to the kids to look at.

“Our way to get in to see Victor Creel. We have an interview with the director, and hopefully we can persuade him to let us speak to Victor,” Nancy said. “Did you find anything useful in the articles?”

You shook your head and Nancy noticeably deflates. There was nothing you could do until you actually spoke to Victor. You hope he could provide the answers you needed to help Max and stop Vecna from hurting anyone else. Steve bickers with Nancy and Robin as they climb up the basement stairs to the main floor.

“Can I talk to you?” Max murmured, shifting awkwardly on her toes.

You nod and stand up from your spot on the couch. Opening the basement door, you step outside and Max follows behind, walking towards a corner of the house so Dustin and Lucas couldn’t see. Max sighs and thrusts out her hand, an envelope between her fingers.

“What’s this?” you asked, taking it from her and flipping it so the flap of the envelope faces you.

“It’s a failsafe if you know…  if you know things don’t work out for me.”

“Max—”

“It’s just in case, okay? Please take it. Don’t read it until… until after.”

You sigh and nod begrudgingly, sliding the envelope into the pocket of your windbreaker. Your heart aches for the redhead. You’ll figure something out. You know you will. No one else was going to die at the hands of Vecna if you could help it. Max closes the space between you and launches herself into your arms. You hold her tightly and hug her like your life depends on it. Max’s tears are muffled into your jacket and you gently card your fingers through her hair. You hug her until she pulls away and wipes the tears off her cheeks.

You don’t say anything. What is there to say to someone who knows that they may die today? Instead, you throw an arm over her shoulder and walk back into the basement. The letter weighing in your jacket.

….

The hour that it took to change, get ready, and drive to Pennhurst Asylum went by quickly. With you in the passenger seat, Nancy driving, and Robin babbling away in the back, you went over the series of questions you wanted to ask.

By the time you arrived, you exhausted all the questions, and anxiously waited for the director of the asylum to take you into his office. Robin’s foot shook anxiously and you reached across to hold her hand. Your heart beats wildly against your chest and the iron grip Robin has on your hand makes your fingers sweaty.

When Director Hatch opens the door, the three of you stand up and introduce yourselves under your aliases Ruth, Rose, and Rebecca respectively. Taking a seat in front of his desk, Nancy hands him the falsified paperwork the newspaper team cooked up before you left Hawkins. You swallow hard when he mentions your high GPAs. Nancy takes the reigns by talking on behalf of the three of you.

“Would it be possible for us to speak to Victor?” you asked with a gentle smile.

“I’m afraid not,” he answered, lacing his fingers together before resting them on his desk as he looks at you. “There’s a rigorous protocol for those that want to see patients like Victor. You put in a request, then undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”  

Director Hatch slides your files back towards you and you noticeably deflate under the rejection. You shift uncomfortably in your chair and tug at the turtleneck you’re wearing. An awkward silence falls over the office and you glance at Nancy and Robin. Your ears start to ring as you tune out whatever the director says afterwards.

Suddenly, Robin starts to ramble. Your eyes widen as you and Nancy stare at her. She stands up from her spot beside you and tugs at the top of her blouse anxiously. Robin blubbers about how you had put in multiple requests to meet with Victor and had been denied each time. She tells the director that coming to Pennhurst was a last-ditch effort to save your thesis. You watch Robin lie with incredible ease and how it was her dream to meet the man that ignited her passion for psychology. She pleas with the director that if you were men, you would meet Victor Creel no questions asked.

That seems to do the trick.

Walking out of his office towards the main halls where patients spend their days, he gives you a tour of the grounds. You walk through the gardens of the asylum towards the other side of the grounds. Director Hatch opens the door for you and the three of you walk inside. Nancy makes small talk with the director as you walk through the music room.

“Having the patients listen to meaningful stimuli like their favorite song can help them with treatment,” Hatch stated matter-of-factly. “It helps them come back to earth, so to speak.”

You nod along and follow him out the door from the music room down a series of steps until you’re standing in front of the door that leads to the criminal ward of the asylum. You swallow hard and rub your hands against your skirt. “Would it be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?” you asked.

Dr. Hatch turns away from the door to look at you. “Alone?”

Robin stutters out an explanation, coming to your aid. “I think we would just love the challenge of speaking to Victor without the safety net of an expert like yourself,” she said. “Then we can really rub in to Professor Bradley’s face.”

His brows pinch together. “I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”

“Brantley!” Nancy laughed nervously. “She meant to say Brantley.”

Robin stumbles over her words and blames it on her nervous excitement on having the opportunity to speak to Victor Creel. Dr. Hatch nods his head slowly and relents, allowing the three of you the opportunity to speak to him alone. When he starts climbing up the stairs again, you let out a sigh of relief and Robin reaches to squeeze your hand again.

The guard in charge of the criminal ward opens the door and the three of you slowly walk behind him. You feel like your heart is in your throat with how fast it’s racing. The moans and groans of the other inmates fill your ears as you walk down to the end of the wing. The guard wakes Victor with the sound of his baton hitting the metal bars of his cell. It makes you jump in your shoes.

You let out a careful breath as the guard returns to the other end of the long hallway. You glance over at Nancy before you take a tentative step towards the cell. Your fingers gently squeeze the bars.

“Victor?” you whispered gently.

“I told Hatch no reporters!” he barked, slamming his hand on the metal table. The sound of his scratch marks filled your ears.

“We’re not reporters,” Nancy replied. “We came for help… we believe you. Whatever killed your family is back in Hawkins. Our friend will be the next victim if we don’t find out what you did to survive. Can you tell us what happened?”

Victor turns to face you and you bite back the gasp that threatens to escape your throat. Victor’s eyes were gone, instead scars littered his face. Robin reaches for your hand again and squeezes it hard. You felt like you were going to sweat through your blouse.

Victor’s voice fills the air as he tells you the story of what happened to his family leading up until the night they all died. His wife and daughter were plagued with nightmares and visions every night. There were dead animals in the yard all the time and there was a lingering, heavy presence over the home. He had tried to exorcise the demon, but it only seemed to anger it more. Victor shares how his wife was the first victim, and when he tried to escape with his kids, he had been sent back into a memory from the war. He heard an angel, and by the time he came to, his son and daughter were gone.

Victor starts to whimper and he crawls back into his bed. You notice that he starts to hum an Ella Fitzgerald song under his breath. Your heart aches for the trauma Victor’s had to endure over the last 30 years. He plead not guilty by reason of insanity, and he wasn’t even crazy. It’s only when a bunch of teenagers come and ask is when he’s believed.

The door to the criminal ward opens and Dr. Hatch comes storming down the hall with two guards behind him.

Shit, you cursed. You hoped you could sneak out afterwards, and now you were fucked. Trailing behind the director with Nancy and Robin at your side, you whisper under your breath. “Remember how Dr. Hatch said that music helps bring patients back to reality? Victor was humming a song earlier, he said he heard a voice of an angel. What if music is the key to saving Max?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Robin muttered back.

Nancy glances over her shoulder to look back at the guards. “I think we can out-run them to the car.”

Robin starts to shake her head and you nod your head in agreement. You and Nancy take off through the garden. Robin yells after you and runs as fast as her gangly legs can take her. The guards shout after you and you turn the corner to get to the parking lot. Jumping into the back seat, you slam the door shut and Nancy takes off.

“Code red! Code red! Did you find anything useful?! Max is in trouble!” Dustin shouted from the radio.

“Music!” you shouted back, fumbling with the dial. “It’s music. Play her favorite song. It should bring her back from the visions.”

Now you would just have to sit and wait to see if it worked.

The drive back to Hawkins is done in silence. You didn’t know what to say to fill the gaps in the car. You didn’t know if music helped save Max from Vecna. Dustin stopped responding. When Nancy pulls into the driveway, you notice Max sitting on the curb with Lucas’s arms around her.

Clamoring out of the car, you run straight to Max, enveloping her in your arms. She sobs into your chest and clings to your backside. Tears of relief slide down your cheeks and the faint sound of Kate Bush escapes her headphones. You pull back to get a good look at her. Her cheeks are flushed a warm pink and red rims her eyes from crying, but Max is fine. She’s still here.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you muttered, resting your forehead against hers. Max doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She knows she has you and the rest of the group to lean on. Max doesn’t have to hide anymore. She knows that she’s not alone.

You let her go and take a step back, catching your breath. You turn to Steve, asking for your bike from the trunk. He gets it out for you and rolls it up the Wheeler’s driveway. Reentering their home, you change back into your comfy clothes and say goodbye for the night. It was time to go see Eddie.

You say your goodbyes and promise to come back first thing in the morning before leaving the house. Riding down the street, you make a quick pitstop at the general store. You purchase some bread, peanut butter, jelly, and chips to feed your boyfriend. You also buy a gallon of water, a toothbrush for you, and Irish Spring soap for Eddie.

Carefully setting the paper bag into the basket attached to your bike, you ride the four miles it takes to get to Lover’s Lake from the center of town. Turning down the road, you carefully dismount your bike and store it in the boatshed when you arrive at Reefer Rick’s house.

Walking up the small hill to the house with the bag in your hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside. “Eddie?” you whispered loudly in the dark. “It’s me!”

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you scared me,” Eddie said from his hiding spot near the master bedroom. You let out a sigh of relief and stumble around the room until the light from the bedroom illuminates your features. Eddie grins and takes the bag from you, setting it on the bed before securing you in his arms. “I missed you. I was starting to worry about you when I hadn’t heard from you today,” he mumbled into your temple. “Is everything okay?”

Your fingers claw at his backside as you breathe him in. You have to remind yourself that Eddie’s here, that Eddie’s safe. The reminder that Max could’ve died today had you been just a second slower haunts you. You can’t help the sobs that escape your throat as you cry into Eddie’s chest.

Eddie carefully guides you to the bed, the food in the bag long forgotten. Eddie whispers sweet nothings into your ear and runs his fingers up and down your back as you cry. Your tears dampen his shirt, but he doesn’t mind.

When the tears subside enough to let you catch your breath, you pull away so that your eyes meet his. Eddie’s warm smile makes your heart summer-sault and he holds the side of your face gently. His thumbs brush away the last of your tears and he leans down just enough to press a soft kiss to your nose, and then to your lips.

Your fingers cling to the Iron Maiden t-shirt you brought just the day before and you wince as the scabs on your knuckles start to tear open. Eddie pulls away and looks at you with concern. “What? What is it? Did I hurt you?” he asked.

You shake your head at him. “No. My knuckles are just sore from punching Jason in the face yesterday. I’m okay.”

Eddie’s grin is blinding at your answer and he carefully takes your hand in his, brushing his fingers over the inflamed skin on your knuckles. You tense when he hits a sore spot and Eddie whispers a soft apology. He brings your bruised hand up to his lips and kisses the tender flesh.

“I’m starting to think you’re a bad influence,” he teased against your skin. The smirk on Eddie’s face as he stares at you makes your skin flush with heat from the tips of your toes to the top of your spine. “What would my uncle say if he found out my girlfriend punched the Jason Carver in the face?”

“I imagine he would tell you to get on your knees and have you ask me to marry you,” you retorted with a grin. “Or he would give me a high five. You can decide, baby.”

Eddie’s soft laughter fills the space inside the bedroom and he gently lets go of your hand in favor of holding your waist. His nose brushes against yours before he dips down and captures your mouth in his. The kiss sets your stomach ablaze.

Your eyes flutter close and your mouth opens just enough so that Eddie can slip his tongue inside. You moan against his lips and cling on to his t-shirt again. Eddie grins wolfishly and gently presses you into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively and the feeling of Eddie’s hand resting against your throat makes your stomach tingle.

“Are you,” kiss, “going to,” kiss, “tell me,” kiss, “why you were,” kiss, “crying?” he muttered against your greedy mouth.

You swallow hard and card your fingers through his hair. “That depends. If I say no, will you still kiss me?”

Eddie pulls away and you groan in protest, reaching for him. Eddie leans back on his thighs and stares down at you expectantly. His hands run up and down your sides as he waits for an explanation. You sigh loudly and reach to trace the outline of his Master of Puppets tattoo on the inside of his arm.

Your bottom lip trembles as you recall the day. You told him about the letter Max wrote you and the circumstances at which point you were allowed to read it. Eddie knew that you were relatively close to the gaggle of freshmen he subsequently adopted into Hellfire Club, but he hadn’t realized the extent of it. You explained where you went today and that you had the opportunity to speak with Victor Creel.

“It was just… so sad, Eds,” you cried into your hands as he listened to you. “He’s spent the last 30 years mourning the loss of his family and the whole world thinks he killed them. You can tell how much he loved them. He still wears his wedding ring. I just… I wish there was a way we could help him… get him out of Pennhurst so that he can live the remaining years of his life as a free man.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, pulling your hands away from your face and bringing them up to his lips to kiss, “my sweet, bleeding heart. I’m sorry. I wish I could be more helpful. I hate seeing you like this. It kills me.”

You shrug and push on. Eddie lays down with his back against the headboard and pulls you between his legs. His hands slip underneath your t-shirt and rest on your stomach as you share the rest of the day. Max comes up again, and this time you don’t try to hide the trembling and fear in your voice. You confess to Eddie how scared you were on the drive back from the asylum, wondering if Max was still alive. You tell him about the relief you felt when you saw her at the Wheelers home.

When you’re done recounting the day, it feels as if the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders. Being able to share the ins and outs of something you’ve kept a secret with the man you love is liberating. It’s freed you from lying to Eddie any longer.

The tears come to a slow stop and you hold on to Eddie like your life depends on it. Your soft sniffles fill the room and Eddie kisses along your neck to the side of your head, coaxing you to take deep breaths.

Eddie climbs out of bed and reaches for the bag on the floor. He empties it and grabs the food. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to go make us sandwiches,” he whispered before kissing you.

You take the time away from Eddie to collect yourself and take a speedy shower. When you step back into the room in just your t-shirt and undies, Eddie’s waiting for you on the bed, his sandwich untouched.

Returning to bed, you eat in silence until you’re done. Tossing your napkins into the trash beside you, you sink into Eddie’s embrace. Your legs tangle with his between the sheets and Eddie hides his face in your neck. You turn your head just enough so that your eyes meet.

“Is your favorite song still Master of Puppets?” you asked softly, resting a hand on his cheek.

Eddie grins and kisses the inside of your palm and nods. “Sure is,” he confirmed quietly. “Is yours still that cheesy song by Tears for Fears?”

You huff playfully and slap his chest. “Everybody Wants to Rule the World is not cheesy, Eddie. It’s a great song!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he hummed against your skin.

He nips and sucks at your skin and you sigh blissfully, rocking your hips back to meet his.

“Eddie,” you plea, feeling the rough tent of his jeans against your back, “please. Please, Eddie.”

“Are you sure?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, his touch hot and heavy. “We don’t have to.”

“Yes,” you answered. “I want to. Do you?”

He nods against your neck. “It’s all I want. I’ve been thinking about you since the moment I touched between your thighs two days ago.”

Your whines fill the bedroom and Eddie smirks against your skin. His hands slide down your bare legs and squeeze your inner thighs. Eddie’s fingers creep up until they’re palming the center of your panties. He rubs you through the thin cotton and pulls the crotch aside to slip his fingers through. You mewl at his touch and grab at his wrist, feeling Eddie’s rough, calloused fingers gather up your wetness.

Eddie’s skull ring brushes through your folds and his finger plays with your clit. You cry out and dig your head into the pillow, rutting your hips back into Eddie’s. Eddie laughs into your ear and slips a finger into your gaping hole. Your body clenches at the intrusion, still not used to having fingers other than your own inside you. Eddie’s hot groans fill your senses as he slowly pumps his fingers inside of you.

With two fingers now scissoring you open, his thumb pressed against your clit. You moan loudly and feel the creeping pressure of an orgasm approaching between your legs. With Eddie’s free hand, he slides your t-shirt up your chest before your chest is on display for him.

Eddie maneuvers himself so you’re back is against the mattress and you’re underneath him. Eddie’s warm, sweet eyes are dark with desire as he watches you writhe beneath him. His soft smile turns wolfish and his fingers massage your tits before he leans down and captures one of them in his mouth.

You groan and tug on his hair harshly. Eddie moans against your skin and it sends you spiraling. The building pressure between your legs only grows with each thrust of his fingers. His tongue laps at your nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise at the top of your chest. All you can think of in your over-stimulated haze is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You gasp his name.

“Eddie, please, please let me cum. Please!” you blubbered, breathing hard.

“Go ahead, honey,” he mutters against your chest, his eyes meeting your fucked-out gaze.

You release with a cry of his name and your fingers tug his scalp harshly. Eddie moans again as he brings you through your first orgasm of the night. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath and Eddie slowly removes his fingers from in between your thighs, causing you to clench on nothing as they leave you.

Eddie kisses along your hairline and you turn your head so you can look at him. Eddie’s face is a deep pink and sweat gathers at the top of his head. You gingerly brush a finger against his cheek and swallow hard. “Can I… can I take care of you?” you asked bashfully.

He grins, playfully nipping at your finger before leaving a kiss. “Only if you want to.”

“I do. I just… I don’t know how. I haven’t done it before.”

Eddie’s smile only grows at your confession and he brushes a finger against your cheek. “That’s okay. I’ll help you through it. We can stop anytime, okay?”

You nod and quickly change positions with your lover. You eagerly tear Eddie’s shirt from his shoulders and toss it on the floor. Your mouth finds his neck and you bite and nip and the pale skin. Eddie holds you in place with his hands on your hips, squeezing hard when you begin to leave a trail down his body.

You leave hickies along Eddie’s slender chest leading to his happy trail. Your fingers trace the outlines of his tattoos before you shimmy down until you’re eye-level with his crotch. Letting out a careful breath, you slowly undo Eddie’s belt and unzip his pants. Eddie reaches for your chin and forces you to look at him. You swallow hard and kiss the inside of his palm before tugging his jeans, and his boxers, down his waist and off his legs.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight and it makes Eddie chuckle. You remember what he felt like a few days ago and the euphoria you felt when he was inside you. The same feeling returns and it makes you squeeze your thighs shut at the thought of Eddie’s warm, thick cock inside of your aching pussy.

You gently wrap your hand around Eddie, looking up to make sure you’re doing it right. He nods encouragingly and you slowly tug on his cock. Eddie curses and throws his head back and it gives you all the confidence you need to keep going. You thumb at the tip, gathering the pre-cum between your fingers before leaning down and gathering him in your mouth.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he cursed, resisting the urge to fuck your mouth. “You feel so good.”

You tongue at the head and he hits the back of your throat. It makes you gag and Eddie tries to pull away to make sure you’re okay. Your fingers dig in to his bare thighs and slowly begin to bob your head back and forth against his cock. Eddie’s hips rut against your mouth and his fingers settled at the back of your head, guiding you in and out of his cock. Tears spring at the corners of your eyes as you take him deeper inside your mouth. Drool falls down your chin and Eddie moans loudly.

“Need your pussy, baby,” he whined. “If you keep suckin’ me like that, I won’t last.”

He gently pulls your head away from his aching cock and guides you back up his chest. Eddie’s fingers hold your chin and he slots his mouth on yours. He moans at the taste of himself on your tongue and wraps his arms around your middle. He carefully pins you beneath him and grabs your legs, pushing them up against your chest as he tugs your panties off your hips and throwing them on the floor.

“This okay, baby?” he asked, lining himself at your aching hole, teasing between your folds. You nod wordlessly and Eddie tuts at you. “Words, baby. I need you to use your words.”

“Yes!” you cried, clawing at the sheets beneath you. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Good girl,” he hummed and the praise shouts straight to your waiting center. Eddie braces himself against you and teases the tip of his cock at your entrance. He slowly thrusts inside of you, bottoming out with a moan against your ear.

You whine pathetically and claw at his backside. The pressure against your legs at the position you’re in sends tingles down your spine. Eddie’s warm chest pins your knees to your stomach and he slowly rocks back into you, his warm cock pressing against the deepest part of you.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you babbled, too cock-drunk to say anything else other than your lover’s name as he brought his hips back and forth to meet yours. Eddie smirks against your hot skin and turns your face so your mouths meet in a hot and heavy kiss. The kiss is teeth and tongue and it has you aching for more. “More, Eddie. I need more.”

Eddie’s warm laughter slips into your mouth and he pulls away just enough to get a good look at you. He pets at your hair and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’re so greedy, baby. Here I am inside you and you’re begging for more. What do you want, honey? Tell me,” he hummed, brushing your hair out of your eyes with his fingers. His eyes darken as he stares down at you, waiting for your answer.

You breathe hard and flush under his intense gaze. You swallow the lump in your throat and whisper, “Can you… can you play with my clit? Or—or you can let me do it?”

Another wolfish grin appears on Eddie’s face and he kisses you hard on the mouth. “Of course, baby. Is that going to help you cum, hmm? You need my fingers and my cock?” Eddie’s skilled fingers slide down your body and press against where you needed him most.

You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed by Eddie’s teasing. You nod pathetically and grab his wrist, holding him in place so he couldn’t pull away. The pressure between your legs grows as Eddie continues to thrust into you and finger your throbbing clit. The sound of skin slapping fills your ears and the stench of sex fills your nose. Eddie noses at your neck and bites into your skin. You cry out and dig your fingers into his back.

Eddie smiles against your hot and sweaty skin, nibbling the shell of your ear. His hot breath fans across your face. “You almost there, honey? I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that,” he whispered as you clenched around him. Eddie curses in your ear.

“Yeah, yeah. Just… just keep doing what you’re doing. You can cum if you can’t hold it,” you sighed against his mouth.

Eddie growls against your lips. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You cum first or you don’t cum at all.”

You cry out at his empty threat and Eddie’s fingers press through your folds and gather your wetness between his fingers. The headboard knocks against the wall with each thrust. Your eyes flutter closed at your release nears and Eddie lays his hand on your throat.

“Open your eyes, princess. I want to see those pretty eyes when you cum.”

Eddie’s words send a shock through your body and you open your eyes. You whine loudly as you stare into his warm brown eyes and cum with a cry of his name. Eddie moans your name and you watch his brows knit together as he released inside you. You sigh in relief and Eddie’s thrusts slow as he coasts through his orgasm. Eddie hides his face in your neck and kisses your throat until he stills inside you. You turn your head and gently card your fingers through his hair. He hums against your skin as you catch your breath.

Eddie gently pulls out of you. You hiss at the sudden emptiness between your legs and watch Eddie scurry to the bathroom. He returns with a warm cloth and gently wipes between your legs before using it on himself. Eddie tosses it on the floor before climbing back into bed and holding you against his chest.

You bask in the warm silence of the room and Eddie’s lips kiss your throat.

“Can I tell you something?” Eddie whispered in your ear.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you replied softly, turning your head so that your eyes meet his.

A faint blush covers his cheeks and his nose brushes against yours. “I wanted to ask you to prom,” he confessed, “y’know… before shit hit the fan and I was accused of murder.”

Your eyes widen at his confession and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles through your throat. “Prom? Eddie, you’ve been a senior three times and haven’t gone to prom once. You wanted to go to prom with me? You hate high school functions.”

Eddie shrugs bashfully. A shy laugh escapes him. “I hadn’t found the right partner. Plus, you even said that you didn’t go to prom when you were still here.”

“My brother got married that weekend,” you recalled, “that’s why I didn’t go.”

“What do you say, hmm? Will you go to prom with me?”

You grin and hold his face between your hands. You press a sweet kiss to Eddie’s lips. “Of course I’ll go to prom with you, Eddie. If we don’t go, who will spike the punch bowl?”

He grins and affectionately squeezes your cheeks together, kissing your puckered lips. Eddie’s warm laughter swallowing you whole.

[flashfuture]

Do you think Garth not having any close bonds with any of the other titans screwed him over in terms of popularity? I think him and Donna should’ve been closer since of course Atlantis and Themscyria are similar in terms of both being greek and sharing gods not to mention he can just pop up at their island anytime if he wanted while you know…not actually stepping on it.

I think that they didn't figure out what they wanted Garth to be until the late 90s. They didn't even give him the name Garth until 10+ years into his existence. I feel like Aquaman himself was never that popular of a character beyond memes about the cartoon. Donna is also not super popular in the mainstream certainly not like Wonder Woman in any case. But she was the only female cast member of the titans for so long they had to keep her around. Or else Dick's only female friends would be his ex's (Kori and Babs) and Roy's his adopted mom (Dinah). Wally quit the team because he was The Flash and they didn't need him to be with a teen group. They needed him to grow up and hold a title on his own. Like Nightwing getting a Nightwing comic lead to a massive decrease in Titan relevancy. But Roy and Donna they don't have their own titles that were ever super big hits.

Garth on the other hand most people don't even know what he and Arthur had going on. They really could have had a drama series out of it like the Batman shows but they went goofy. But just think underwater royalty. Your father is your liege. He tried to kill you. I digress. The 90s comics also show that Aquaman is standoffish, rude, and doesn't play well with the heroes everyone likes better. In the 94 comic when he's rude to Kyle I wanted him to die a little bit. Garth is the underling to a generally unlikable character. And while the first Aquaman movie was pretty okay for a dcu movie... they did like all of it at once. But without Garth.

Dick becoming Nightwing and Jason being the robin who died is pretty much the best DC will promote as far as teenage sidekicks go.

So I think being an aquaman character hurt garth's popularity. i think them not capitalizing on the potential attractiveness of a sea 'prince' with purple eyes who can do magic hurt his popularity. i think not having garth in a teen titans comic tell someone about arthur's attempted murder hurt his popularity because everybody likes a horrific mentor mentee bond. Have Arthur in a JL comic awkwardly ask Bruce how you rebuild a bridge you exploded.

I think that tying down Garth with Tula so early into his run was boring. I think that Garth should have had some sort of Ariel and Eric romance. I'm not sure a connection to any of the titans would have helped per say. But I do think putting him in a supporting role to Nightwing to the Flash to other more popular characters would have boosted him by likability alone. There are a number of potential avenues they could have gone it to boost Garth's popularity one of which could have been not erasing him in the new 52 and putting some bland magician in his place and trying to exclude him from as many aquafam moments as possible

[th3sp4rr0w]

Day Twelve

A03 Link <- Starts at Chapter/Day One for those just joining us :))

Prompts For Day Twelve Self-Harm/Sacrifice/Character Death 

Alt. Prompt For Day Twelve Abandoned 

Prompts Used for Day Twelve Sacrifice, Character Death, Abandoned

Tw's; Guns, Injury, Blood Mention, Death/Child Death Mention

Chapter Twelve under the cut :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin stood his ground as the people around him started to yell.

“You just got back!” Babs shouted.

“Master Jason, that is highly ill-advised-”

“Jason, you’re benched, you’re not going-”

He started walking towards the cave’s exit when Dick grabbed him from behind.

“Of all the stupid, irresponsible things you have ever done,” he was saying, “This takes the cake,” He started turning Robin around in his grip even as he kicked and fought.

“Dickface-!”

“I didn’t worry about you,” he continued, “For two and a half weeks,” he manhandled him into the chair, “Just so Bruce could go do whatever the fuck he did with the pits so you could go right back out and get hurt again!”

He went still, quiet. Dick was crying. It wasn’t like the few times he’d seen him cry before; this was fat, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he hissed venom from his teeth. It should’ve been terrifying.

“It’s my life,” Jason said, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s my twin,” he continued.

Three heads turned to him, confused. “What?” he heard someone ask softly.

Anger bubbled in his chest. “He’s already been fucking abandoned by someone who was supposed to protect him. The same person who was supposed to protect me and left me there with that fucking monster. The same one who fucking kidnapped me to hand me over to the Joker!” 

He ripped the face mask off, showing off the J carved into his cheek. “I’m the one who has to live with that night, Dick! I’m the one who has to live with what she did and said. Did you know I have a twin?”

“You what?” he heard Alfred breathe. Glancing around the room, he could see Babs being just as shocked.

“I have a twin,” he repeated, “That she took somewhere and swapped with her friend’s dying kid. The same dying kid she used to manipulate Batman into dropping her case.”

“What are you talking about?” Babs asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Catherine wasn’t my bio mom,” he said, trying to make his voice soft.

Batman hadn’t told them. Of course, he hadn’t told them.

He waited for everybody to react before continuing. Dick was acting off; he suspected he knew something, but didn’t call him on it. “Sheila Haywood gave birth to me, an older brother, and my twin. She says my older brother was dead before we were born and named my twin, Daniel, after him. She took Daniel and not me when she fled Gotham after getting in trouble with the law. She said she couldn’t cross the border with him, and her friends had a sick kid our age with the same name and looks, so-”

“She swapped them,” Dick finished. “I... looked through your phone. Not everything, just your emails,” he confessed. “But, Jason, you don’t have to do anything-”

“Like fuck I do,” he spat. “I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks, and I want my phone back,” he added, glaring at him, “But he’s my twin. This was Sheila’s doing. They may not be my actions, but I want to be there for him. I know what it’s like being abandoned by her. And if he died because of her neglect... I want to know. I need to know. Dick, he’s my twin. I have to know what happened to him.”

They looked each other in the face a few moments. “You’d go out anyways, wouldn’t you?” he asked.

Robin nodded.

He sighed. “You grab a com?”

Barbara and Batman both protested. Robin merely nodded again, going for his left ear before remembering it was on the right. He tapped it.

“Testing, testing, one two three,” he said.

Dick nodded. “Let me wash my face and get a domino on. We’re going to find him,” he swore.

“He hasn’t been cleared!” Batman roared.

“You looked over me in the plane!” Robin yelled back. “I’m doing this. If it were about anything else-”

“You don’t even know if it’s him!” He growled back.

“If I was missing and it were a chance it were me-”

“That’s different-”

“No! No, it’s not! Even if it’s not him, it’s still a missing kid. I’m not sitting this one out, papa. I can’t.”

Babs looked at Alfred, who’d raised his eyebrows. That was new.

“I said no, you’re not cleared,” he said firmly.

“Beloved,” Talia jumped in. “Arguing with him does nothing. He’s already said he will go anyway.”

“I have ways-”

“Yes, you do, and they worked well for Dick, did they not?” she said dryly. “He will figure them out eventually. Save them for when he is truly a danger to himself.” She turned to the child next. “This is not an invitation to be reckless. You are to use your training and be careful. Do not make me regret backing you,” she said, looking him up and down.

“Yes ma’am,” he said immediately.

Babs sighed. “I see you finally added pants,” she joked.

He grimaced. “Had to. Scars,” he replied. He fixed the mask back onto his face properly, “Same reason for this.”

She hummed. “We’ll have to develop another one. Maybe one with a cool speaker,” she muttered.

He smiled at her, not that she could see. She was still mad at him, but she was at least willing to understand. It felt nice to have her back in his corner.

“Don’t encourage him,” the bat growled. “He is disobeying direct orders-”

“B, you’ve lost this one,” she said plainly. “We might as well encourage him focusing on other things. Besides, I think he looks cute with the mask,” she said, looking at him up and down. “It suits you,” she said, softer.

Alfred walked over to him, fussing over his cape and masks. “The leggings fit?” he asked.

He took the actions for what they were. Nobody was happy with him right now; they’d all much rather he stay in tonight, let them handle the missing ghost. However, they knew what it was like not to be able to back down from a case. They’d be hypocrites if they tried to keep him benched.

Robin shook his head. “They’re not perfect, but they won’t hinder me in any way for now,” he said.

Alfred nodded and said something about getting measurements when he got back for some leggings of his own.

Nightwing entered the room again, weapons firmly on his back and domino in place. If they didn’t know better, they never would’ve known about the tear tracks that had clung to his cheeks just a few minutes ago.

“Let’s do this,” he muttered. “And Robin?”

He looked at his big brother.

“Please be careful, little wing. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened tonight.”

He nodded. He was, at least, planning on not having any accidents today.

They left the cave together, pulling out grappling hooks and going separate ways. They knew the rough area he had to be in, but there were a lot of places for a child to hide.

Batgirl had been the one to find the camera outage by Crime Alley and the surrounding areas. Searching would take awhile, but if it meant they got to find a missing kid, they would do it.

They gave each other updates as they went. “Cleared the Bat Burger and surrounding buildings,” Nightwing said, “Moving on,” he added.

“Hn.”

“Got to the library, clearing surrounding area,” Batgirl said.

“I see a group of kids. I’m going down and seeing if they know anything,” he said into his com.

“Robin, repeat the last part of that? Your com glitched,” Batman huffed.

“I’m going down to see if they know anything,” he repeated as he touched the ground, going to the side of the building.

“Roger. Be careful,” Nightwing responded.

He walked up to the kids. “Hey-”

“ROBIN!” one of them shouted, throwing themselves at him. He caught them easily.

“What’s with the new mask?” One of the older ones asked.

“Dude, people are saying you died- how are you here right now?”

He shrugged. “I got better?” he offered.

“Dude, did you die?” A different kid asked.

“Look, I’d love to stay and chat,” he said, handing the little kid off to one of the older members, “You guys know I would, but I need to find a missing kid. White hair, green eyes, possible meta. Seen anyone like that?”

They shook their heads. “No, we haven’t seen anyone like that. There is a possible,” he gestured for the older kids to cover the younger one’s ears, “Kiddy ring that opened by the dock. If kid’s been gone for awhile, they might be there. We’ve been trying to flag you down, but-”

“I was out of commission,” he finished and cursed. “I’m sorry. I’ll let the Bat know and we’ll investigate,” he promised.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Nobody we know, yet, but we’ve been keeping an eye on everybody. There are whisperings they’re targeting the Narrows.”

He growled. “Noted,” he said. “I’ll get you guys next time, this is my first night back and I had less time than usual to prep,” he said, genuinely apologetic.

“You’re good, dude, you’ve helped more than you realize,” he said as the younger kids whined. “Good to see you again. And uh, I don’t know what the mask and pants situation is about,” he lowered his voice, “But word is, the Joker got you. Just to let you know, the kids are getting restless. I know we’re not the only group you help, and they’re making some serious waves. It’s as brave as it is stupid,” he muttered.

Robin nodded. “Thank you. Seriously. Don’t worry about me,” he said, trying to be soothing, “But I’ll take care of it. Let the other’s know I’m back, but the bat might be keeping me on a short leash,” he chuckled a bit. “I’m not really supposed to be out tonight.”

“But you can’t keep out of it if it’s a kid involved,” the other boy finished, smirking.

Robin smiled, even if they couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I’ve never known when to quit,” he joked.

The kids waved good bye as he grappled away. He pressed the com in his ear.

“Who’s online?” he asked.

“Nightwing,” his brother said.

“I’m also here,” Batgirl replied. “What’s up Robin?”

He relayed the information he’d just been told, “I’m going to search a bit more around here, but they’re usually pretty on top of all the rumors and stuff in this area. I’ll touch base with more groups soon, but-”

“We understand,” Batgirl responded. “Just cleared the surrounding area of the library. Moving on,” she said.

“Clearing some buildings by the Croc sewers,” Nightwing grunted. “No sign yet,” he added.

“Roger. Going to continue to... I’ll be right back,” he said, trailing off. “Just found something that weirded me out before I took my break,” he said, muting his com.

He could still hear their chatter as he swung down into a nearby alley with some white vans.

The people he’d seen before he got called to the docks that one night oh so long ago were back. Their white suits were perfect, not a spec of anything on them as they walked around, scanning buildings and wearing ugly goggles.

“There’s something in this area,” he heard one mutter.

“Oh for sure,” the other one responded. “But where is it coming from?”

He stood there, listening intently.

“Those ecto-scum won’t know what hit them,” he heard one mutter. He heard one of their machine’s beep and he heard them call out, “Hey, I'm getting another hit over here.”

Ecto-scum? What kind of people were these-

He heard footsteps coming towards the alley he was hiding in. He wedged himself between the wall and a dumpster, intent on finding out more.

“Don’t be scared, little ghostie,” he heard someone mutter. “We just wanna hunt ya-”

He didn’t like where this was going. Anytime a potential threat had said they were ‘hunting’ him, it usually ended up bad. He shuffled down a bit closer to the ground, shoving his legs underneath the dumpster, careful not to let them stick out on the other side. Not that they got close.

Sometimes being short was cool, but this was humiliating. He forced the thought out of his head.

He thought they had left the alley when he felt something grab onto his cape. He managed to maneuver himself out from underneath the dumpster before reaching back and kicking the man that had grabbed him in the elbow.

He started running when he noticed more white suits. He pressed his com, frantically looking around.

“S.O.S! This is Robin calling for emergency back up,” he said as he attempted to dodge more hands. “Guys in white suits, white nondescript van lisence plate unknown,” he continues, ducking out of the way of hands coming at him, “Weapons unknown- too many,” he said as more arrived. “I can’t- LET ME GO!” he said as he kicked wildly.

“Little wing, where are you-”

“I, I’m not sure,” he said as he struggled. “Near the building with the good gargoyle-”

“That doesn’t narrow it down!” Nightwing barked out.

“Robin, what do you see?”

He looked around. He spotted a teenager his age with white hair as he floated on top of the building above them.

“A... glowing teen?” he said.

“HEY!” he yelled, getting everybody’s attention. " LEAVE HIM ALONE! IT’S ME YOU WANT!”

The earth shook as he yelled more, glowing green rings coming out of his mouth. Robin felt the earth shake and the com in his ear popped.

The guys holding him dropped him as he reached desperately for the com unit in his ear, ripping it out. It began sparking.

Well. So much for that.

Maybe if he had any sense he’d run. But, he was Robin, and there were guns being trained at what had to be a fellow child hero. One who’d clearly never had training. One who held an undertone of fear as he squared up to these assholes who had started trying to shoot at him with unknown weapons.

He was Robin, and he’d never backed down from a fight in his life. He stood with his back to the other hero.

“Robin,” he introduced.

“Phantom,” the other boy responded, looking at him weirdly. “I didn’t know you were a ghost, too.” He muttered.

He didn’t have time to respond as he punched someone that had started coming at them.

“We’re talking about that later!” he shouted over his shoulder. He swore he could hear the other boy laugh at him.

So, this was the guy his big brother had been looking for. This... this must be his twin.

He tried not to let his emotions get in the way as they worked together to take down the agents. At one point they pulled out these glowing green shields. Common sense told him not to touch them, but that left him open. He checked his belt.

Thank fuck it had batterangs. He really should’ve checked this thing before he left.

Phantom disappeared and reappeared next to him at some points, catching his blind spots. He threw his projectiles at a few of the people training their guns at the other hero.

It was like they had fought together forever. He, again, had clearly never had formal training, but they worked with it. Instead of getting in Robin’s way, what he lacked in skill he made up with innovation.

His power list had to be ridiculous. He covered the ground in a thin layer of ice, leaving the agents slipping and skating over the pavement.

Robin’s boots were equipped to handle such shenanigans. He couldn’t exactly fight the Penguin or Mr. Freeze if his boots didn’t hold up against ice, now, could he?

They kicked and fought. At one point Phantom covered his fists in green and started punching. Robin could tell he was being careful, but he still left several agents unconscious on the pavement. Robin tried not to take the time to be impressed.

He could tell he was impressing Phantom as he threw punches and hits.

That was when things started to get weird.

He had just socked somebody in the jaw when, as his feet hit the pavement, his left went out from under him. Normally, this would come with searing pain, but he felt nothing. Except...

His left foot felt like his body had in the plane when he saved them from that missile.

He dared to look down. His foot was translucent, which should’ve been the weird part except it was going through the ground . What was happening?

“The fuck?” he asked out loud and tried to use his arms to push himself up. His right gave out- no, it also went through the ground. Seriously, what the fuck was happening?!

Phantom looked at him where he was laying on the ground. “Robin!” he called. “Pull your limbs out of the ground and try to feel them!”

He watched as Phantom tried to pick up the slack, wailing into the different agents. Seriously, where was Batman? Nightwing? Anybody?

He did as he was told, pulling his arm and foot out of the ground. Then he registered the other boy’s words.

“How the fuck do I feel my limbs?” he yelled out.

“You just do! Just, think of how your solid body parts feel!” he yelled back.

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“Figure it out!”

He tried to focus on how his other arm felt as a suit approached him, Phantom’s back turned and already dealing with three more.

“Fascinating,” the man whispered.

Nope, fuck this, this is getting weird. He desperately searched his pocket for something he could use. All he had was some... Halloween candy? It’ll do, but he should check the rest of his pockets when he got home, it was April there shouldn’t be Halloween candy in his plane belt.

He threw it at the man, who cursed, then choked. He fist pumped; he managed to get a piece in his eye and his mouth.

The man doubled over. “Agent G?” he heard someone vaguely ask. They ran over and started attempting the Heimlich.

Normally, Robin would help, but right now he was focusing on becoming... solid? This was such a weird day.

What did he do on the plane again? He focused on the weird feeling, and it spread. He could feel his left hand go intangible, then his foot, then it traveled along until his whole body was translucent and he was having trouble keeping it above pavement. Then...

He let it go. His body was solid again within seconds.

He had gravel in his pants. That was an issue for some other time.

“YES!” he yelled out, then took a running start at the ‘agents’? Again, a super weird day.

He extended his now-solid leg into the man’s abdomen, using it as a springboard to transition into a flip. It wasn’t a Nightwing flip, but it did nicely for both saving the man’s life and incapacitating him. Nice job, Robin-

He went to jump back into action beside Phantom when he started floating. It was like today was trying to be difficult.

He ended up grabbing onto an cheap ass suit jacket trying to keep from floating away. Phantom looked at him weirdly.

“Dude! What are you doing?!”

“I don’t know!” he yelled back. “I couldn’t do this until a few hours ago!”

Phantom’s eyes widened. “You’ve only been like this for a few hours?! What are you doing out?!” He said as he grabbed onto Robin’s middle.

“Looking for you!” he replied, then- “Look out!”

“Wha- OH SHIT-”

He ducked, covering Robin’s body with his own.

The glowing harpoon missed them by inches. They heard someone curse wildly.

“Now, ecto-scum, you can either come quietly, or we could continue to fight,” they heard someone say.

Neither were very inclined to find out exactly what that meant. Phantom kept a hold of Robin as he attempted to take him and retreat.

“There are too many,” he heard Phantom mutter. “We need back up-”

“I’ve been trying to call the rest of the bats,” he said. “I don’t know why they aren’t here-”

“Fuck!” Phantom shouted. They may have made it a couple streets over, but agents had still been on their tails.

Phantom’s back was opened up. His suit was burned at the edges and he grit his teeth. He descended before the pain could knock him out of the air completely.

“Ow, fuck,” he hissed, “I think they changed the formula, that hurts so much more-” he said as he began shaking.

“Shit-” Robin muttered as he attempted to see what he had in the other pockets.

“Go!” Phantom grabbed his wrist. “Just go, I can deal-”

“No way,” Robin growled out. His feet finally planted themselves on the ground and he hauled up Phantom as best he could, “I don’t leave people behind,” he grit as he began dragging him into an alley.

“Both of us aren’t going to get out of here,” Phantom hissed. “You have the better chance. Just-”

“I don’t leave people behind,” Robin emphasized. “Especially not fellow heroes who just saved my ass,” he added, giving Phantom a look. He set him beside some boxes in the alley, hoping the ground wasn’t suspiciously wet or anything like that. “You stay here, I’m going to see if I can signal someone.”

“Roger,” Phantom said.

Robin could see he was trying not to worry him, but that the wound was bad. He wasn’t sure how bad. He hoped Alfie could help him; he wasn’t sure how ghost biology worked, and he doubted the butler had more knowledge in that area.

He left Phantom in the alley and used his grappling hook to get on top of the building next to them. From here, he could see some agents a couple streets from where he’d stashed Phantom, using the same machines he saw earlier. He figured they were some sort of tracker; they didn’t have much time before they were found.

He thought he could see a spec of something before it disappeared. He didn’t want to shout out to it in case the ‘agents’ heard; they may be tracking them already, but that didn’t mean he wanted to help them hunt them down. He cursed under his breath.

He tried to search more of the pockets of his belt. He found some gauze, some other miscellaneous band-aids, a couple more baterangs, more Halloween candy-

He jumped out of the way of a glowing shot. How rude!

He threw the rest of the Halloween candy, not wanting to waste the baterangs. He grappled back down to hopefully throw them off of Phantom’s trail; he was the one hurt, not him.

He looked around, running through a labyrinth of alleys. Luckily, he knew right where he was. He prayed nobody had ever discovered his secret hiding spots.

He tried to stick close enough to hear Phantom if he yelled out. As long as he has his dark, smelly alley ways correct...

He slid down and checked a brick. It was loose. He removed it and looked inside, grinning.

He pulled out the rubbing alcohol, bottles, and rags. He shoved his hand further into the hole and found the matches wrapped in a plastic grocery bag.

Before he was Robin, he got himself into some... situations. He had never touched them afterwards, afraid he or someone else would need them some day. Turns out, having some of Batman’s paranoia rub off on him was useful. Who knew?

And to think he and Nightwing had accused him of having a hoarding problem. Next time Alfred wanted the bat to look through his suits and get rid of the ones he didn’t need anymore, Robin might just take the old bat’s side. Just for a minute.

Nobody ever went against Alfred for that long. The man was a saint for putting up with them and everybody knew it.

He poured most of the rubbing alcohol into the vessels and pre-wet the rags before shoving them into the necks of the bottles. He only had two, so he wanted to make them count.

He didn’t think he had a lighter in his belt. That would suck when it was time to light one of these suckers, but-

He ran faster to where Phantom was hidden. He could see the vans beginning to pull up, agents pouring out of them.

Just how many men was part of this loser club? He’d been to those boring field trip assemblies so they could go over expectations and things with the parents there, and even those never had this many people. They always had so many people at those things!

He wasn’t even sure if any of their villains had ever had this many men on their side before, including during team ups.

He pulled the match box out of the bag he’d put it in. Miraculously, they had actually stayed dry. He got closer before he attempted to light one, dragging the matchstick against the striker. It caught, causing an orange flame to flicker out.

He held it up to the rag, catching it ablaze. He threw it and took cover, hearing more so than seeing as it shattered on impact. He heard someone screaming. He checked to make sure nobody was in the alley with them, most of them being distracted by the fire that exploded out after he threw the Molotov and ran to where he’d stuck Phantom.

The other boy was halfway up, trying to hover off the ground. “Dude, what-”

Robin held up the pre-made Molotov he had left. “These,” he breathed, “Should be used in hero work more often. I forgot how fun it was.”

Phantom looked at him a minute before registering what he meant. He grinned. “Robin-”

“I know, I’m awesome, let’s go before they get past it!”

He took his hand, dragging him through the alleys. He could see daylight beginning to peak out from the horizon line. He thought of the baby bird; he’d love to get a picture of this.

“We need to get to the rendezvous point,” he muttered. “If we can do that, I think we’ll be okay,” he said.

“What’s the rendezvous point?” Phantom asked. “I can fly up-”

“No,” Robin said. “Even if you weren’t hurt, they know to look to the skies; it’s how they figured out which alley we were in. I was on the roof,” he explained. “The roof tops and skies are off limits until we get to the building we need,” he continued. “Then we get on top of it. The bat keeps emergency coms hidden in one of the gargoyles; we grab one, then we can call them, and they can help us,” he surmised.

“The bats are out,” Phantom said. “I was with them earlier-”

“And Nightwing was dumb,” he finished for him. “He said he didn’t realize what was happening at first. He cried about it,” he forced himself to laugh; he didn’t find anything about the situation funny, “He feels bad. He’s on your side, 100 percent.”

Phantom got quiet, and Robin looked to him to make sure he wasn’t getting worse.

“He... he’s really on my side?” Phantom asked.

The snort Robin let out was genuine. “I wouldn’t be as intent on helping your ass if he didn’t think you were someone worth saving,” he replied.

He snuck another glance at the other hero. He was smiling slightly now; he looked good like that. He looked his age.

Robin figured he could tell him about everything else later as he led him through the alleys.

“Anyways,” he muttered. “You said something earlier. What do you mean I’m a ghost?"

Phantom paled a bit. “I... think we have to get somewhere a bit safer before I explain that. Red, someone on my team, won’t be happy but it’s vital information, especially if the GIW’s already in Gotham. You won’t be able to go anywhere without them being your shadow,” he said.

“Oh, that’s comforting,” he replied dryly. “I get more enemies out of the deal? Sweet,” he continued.

Phantom snorted. “Trust me, I know,” he said. “It’s not all bad. I’ll stick around and teach you some things.”

Robin was already liking the kid. “Like not getting stuck in the ground?” he guessed.

“Yes,” Phantom said. “And how to drop the intangibility without dropping your pants,” he said, laughing slightly.

Robin let out a startled laugh. “If it makes you feel better,” he said, “I got gravel near my junk.”

Phantom wheezed, “I accidentally dropped my pants asking out a girl I liked,” he laughed.

Robin laughed with him.

The situation may be slightly fucked, but at least they were getting along before Robin had to destroy his world view. That certainly made some things easier to believe.

As they approached the end of the alley, Robin signaled for Phantom to stay behind while he scoped out the road in front of them. He carefully looked one way-

There was a white van coming his way.

He immediately ducked back into the alley, pulling out another match and lighting the rag. He threw it at the van and turned to run.

He felt someone grab him by his cape. “Oh, no, little ghostie,” he heard someone say. “You and that other scum from Amity Park have caused enough trouble for us tonight!”

He covered his face as the Molotov exploded, throwing bits of glass and fire everywhere. It cast a menacing light on the face that had caught him.

The white suit had goggles on, like the rest did. She had a scar that disappeared into her hairline, going down behind the right lens of her goggles before ending near her chin. She had a grin on her face. “You and the other one are going to make nice- OOF-”

Phantom was standing in the alley, barely. Wisps of green smoke came from his fist. “Leave him alone,” he growled out.

Robin ran towards him, intending on tugging him down an alley and losing them on foot before more agents appeared.

“Oh, what’s wrong, scum?” One of them asked. “Shocked we know your little alleys as well as- HEY!”

Robin threw a baterang at the man. It hit his gun.

He could probably beat them if he was by himself, but he had Phantom to think about. He pulled out his grappling hook, out of options. He aimed it at the roof of the nearest building, grabbing Phantom’s waist-

Someone grabbed his foot as they were taking off. He kicked wildly, trying to get the agent to let go. His grip slipped.

He watched with growing dread as his grappling hook zoomed off by itself, eventually unhooking from the building and dropping to the ground below. He hoped whoever picked that up used common sense with it.

He tried to remember the feeling he got earlier when he hovered. He managed to get it for a few seconds before his vision blurred. Nonono not right now-

Curse things like blood sugar, always getting in the way when it’s the least convenient. He tried to power through it-

He dropped it, dropping them to the ground. He tried to take the impact for Phantom and popped back up, already in position to fight.

He could only hope somebody found them now.

He swung at one of the agents. The adrenaline and energy he’d had a few hours, hell, 20 minutes ago had greatly faded. Maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew with this one.

He saw Phantom out of the corner of his eye trying to blast weapons out of their hands as they fought. He knew, eventually, something would give.

Either they’d get back up, and they’d get to go to the cave, get some sleep. Talk about things, figure out what the fuck he’d been talking about earlier with the ghost stuff. This was the ideal outcome.

Or, they’d... lose. They’d get captured. Go to who knows where, where these losers in cheap white suits would do who knows what to them, and, if the way that they’d scrambled his com earlier was any indication, the bats wouldn’t be able to track them.

They’d be stuck there indefinitely. And Robin had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy to escape.

Before the Joker, if this had happened, he wouldn’t have even thought twice about it. In spite of his childhood in crime alley, he’d allowed himself to get caught up in the magic. He’d been compensating for a childhood spent knowing the lights could go off today because mommy didn’t pay the bill, that he could go hungry tonight because daddy had debts to pay and he used the grocery money to do it. That any day, he could seek out a friend he hadn’t seen in a while and learn that they had already passed away, way too young, because they were working with some villain or another, or they had starved, or froze to death, or-

Well. You get the picture.

As Robin, he’d never had to face any of that. It was Jason who’d had that experience. Maybe he shouldn’t have separated the identities so much.

Maybe he should’ve remembered the cocktail kits sooner. Maybe he should’ve been utilizing the alleys all along. Maybe he should’ve concerned himself with the kids of the alley more and been more involved, it had been his home for fourteen years for fuck’s sake-

Maybe his morals shouldn’t have been as rigid as the bat had insisted they be. He knew that Dick had left for a reason, and even though he hadn’t wanted to see it, and though he loved his papa, he was beginning to see where the logic had been flawed.

He heard a noise like someone cocking a gun somewhere behind him and felt himself get pushed down. He heard it go off and the aborted scream next to him.

He dared to look.

Phantom had been hit in the chest this time. He just barely clung to the edges of consciousness before going under. A bright ring of white light enveloped him before leaving him looking just like Robin in his civilian identity.

… They could unpack that later. He needed a plan-

What would Jason do? What would he have done-

Jason would’ve left Phantom behind ages ago. But that wasn’t who he was anymore. He had to think of something better-

He saw someone coming towards them out of the corner of his eye. He had blood covering his lenses and he wasn’t sure who’s it was as he wiped it off and grabbed the person coming at them by the wrist.

His vision swam again. Just a few more minutes-

He slammed them forwards and into the concrete wall, using their own weight against them. He grabbed the gun they’d been holding.

One of the few things he’d never been taught is shooting, but didn’t someone once say the best way to learn was real-world scenarios? He supposed it couldn’t get any more real-world than this.

He aimed for someone else’s gun. He squeezed the trigger. The recoil sent shocks down his arm and he closed his eyes, trying to keep his balance. He may not know anything about this, but he was certain that was wrong.

He heard a yelp. He opened his eyes back up to see he’d hit his mark, the gun in the other man’s hand showering them in small bits of plastic.

He tried to cock it to get it ready to shoot again.

He didn’t know too much about guns. Maybe he should’ve taken Willis’s offers to teach him how to shoot when he was smaller, but his mom had always begged him to wait until he was at least 16; Alfred’s attempts at teaching him had always been vetoed by the bat, and he was beginning to regret allowing Batman to do that.

He knew the damage a gun could cause. He knew people who’d been taken by a bullet before they met their fate. He’d always thought he’d never use one, always disliking the destruction and chaos they brought.

He never stopped to wonder what would happen the day he needed to cause the damage and chaos a gun brought with it. He didn’t figure out how to cock it.

A hand wrapped around his, making him drop the only weapon he had remaining. He tried to wiggle out of the grip before he saw they’d already grabbed Phantom. He remembered the glowing green rings that had shook the earth when Phantom first came to his aid.

The sun shine down on them, the dewy morning air still holding that bit of April chill. He took a deep breath, aiming away from Phantom.

He screamed. Loud, harsh, and unabashed as they started dragging them to a van. He caught a glimpse of Nightwing on a rooftop as he did so.

He almost had a spark of hope before the agent carrying him cracked him in the head with their gun before throwing him into the back of the van on top of Phantom.

He felt agents jumping into the van and peeling off. The van shook, like someone had landed on top of it. People began shouting.

“Please, Dickface,” he thought, “Please rescue us.”

A few miles later, he heard the shouts outside stop. He felt the weight on the roof be thrown off.

He could only hope whatever scrambled his com hadn’t completely killed the tracker in his belt as they were driven out to who knows where.

At least he’d found Phantom. At least he knew he didn’t have to go through another kidnapping alone.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

JASON TODD | RED HOOD (batman:under the red hood 2010 | canon divergence?)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“In Your Eyes” (Jason Todd x Gn!Reader)

| Jason Todd is gone, has been for years, but his ghost still haunts you.

| SFW, angst, reader was in a relationship w/Jay (TW: suicide, passively suicidal reader-insert, hallucinations, blood, personal neglect, mature language) - could be platonic or romantic honestly

| Just go with the timeline weirdness. (pics via: Batman: Under The Red Hood 2010 movie)

| 1k+ words

b.NOTES: Yes, I decided to post this for Jason’s birthday, and yes, it is a downer. 🥳🎉

This was going badly, even you could admit that. Every possible thing that could’ve gone wrong was going wrong. You were out of batarangs because Bruce had threatened to bench you for failing to follow orders so you’ve been avoiding him; subsequently missing your last supply check.

You’d been in a nasty fight coordinated by Oracle with Nightwing last week and your suit too had gotten fucked to hell but your backup was, once again, at the manor. Then what was supposed to be a by the numbers recon mission was now a shoot out because you haven’t slept for more than three hours in days and you slipped up.

Bruce’s disappointed scowl flashes across your mind as you slam into an abandoned office, a hail of bullets cascading after you.

Icing on the fucking cake was that you couldn’t even call him for help if you wanted to. You had abandoned your com two days ago when the announcement that Tim was joining the Titans had gone live. It was irrational, you had known he was joining. Hell, you’ve even met the kid, but something about the news had just jarred you more than even fighting alongside the new Robin had. Now everyone had concrete confirmation (if they paid attention at least) that Jay was gone and it hurt.

When the last barrage has calmed down - and you can just barely make out the sounds of people converging on your cover - you move with a wild burst of energy, crashing yourself through the office window. The second story drop out of the foreclosed building should’ve been easy, the shouts being left behind you and wind nicking at your face should’ve been the end of this nightmare mission.

Instead there’s the zip of something harshly breaking through the air followed by searing heat as you’re hit mid fall.

“Fuck!”

The second you land you crumble to the ground, slapping your hand over the furiously bleeding wound.

The back of the knee.

Fucker managed to get you right where it’d hurt and the projectile broke right through your armor like it was nothing.

Blood trickles down your leg, quickly saturating the absorbable pieces of your costume.

Yeah, you’ve officially gotta get outta dodge.

A very real problem arises though when you limp forward and not only does your knee buckle dangerously but there’s a man blocking your easiest exit out the alleyway you landed in.

“You lost, little bat?”

“Nng,” is all you can grunt out. You fling your last batarang, absently clocking as it knocks the gun from the man’s hands and the goon yelps in surprise. Your leg feels completely drenched, and you should feel more pressed about that than you do.

Just then is when your knee decides to give out and you drop to the ground hard with a thin scream. There’s spots dancing in your vision and the guy’s talking but you can’t hear a word.

You rush in a stuttering breath, fighting against the pull of your eye lids. Maybe… maybe you could just finally go to sleep - you can’t remember the last time you hit REM without immediately being jolted awake by your dreams anyway - why not camp out here until one of the bats found you or…or you died of hypothermia. Who knew concrete could feel as good as memory foam.

The pounding of feet grabs your attention next - each foot fall vibrating your skull - and you blink back to yourself however many seconds later. Head lifting what catches your eye makes your body still.

No, goddamnit. Not now. You shake your head but the resolve catches in your throat anyway.

"I thought you were dead." You feel out of breath with relief now, examining his domino-less face. Drinking up the mere sight of him.

"I know." He whispers; soft but not quite apologetic.

He steps closer and you shudder, have to force yourself not to take a corresponding shuffle back. This couldn't be.

He was still in the vibrant reds, greens, and yellows of his Robin uniform. He always was whenever you dreamed even though the last time you’d seen him was at a book reading where he was in regular clothing. In that damn red hoodie.

Even though you know the costume he died in was in tatheres, caked in his eviscerated flesh and burnt-in blood, the suit you see now is impossibly pristine.

"No,” you mutter weakly. Jason moves closer and goes to put his light hand to your dark cheek. You grab and throw it down, pushing yourself up and back, heartbeat clammering up your throat as your wounded leg drags after you.

"No! No! I won't-" your back hits the brick wall behind you and you collapse. Bruce had been chewing you out about getting help for the insomnia and to get therapy to move past Jason's death but you’d ignored him, ignored everyone, even your parents. Now it was too late.

On the cold wet floor you shrink into yourself, crying.

"Jason Todd is dead!" You yell, looking at the image in front of you. You swear you can feel the rush of air from him crouching down.

Jason frowns at you and there are tears building up in his eyes. You gag. You were so tired of your mind throwing shit like this at you. You couldn't do it anymore.

It’s when you’re screaming at nothing that the goon takes advantage of your distraction and lunges forward towards the gun that he’d lost at your intervention. He cocks it at the mouth of the alleyway. You sit down at the other end, only briefly looking at the man aiming at you before shifting your blurry gaze back to Jason.

His eyes get cloudy and distraught, but you just keep babbling nonsense at him, tears streaming down your skin in ravines. Jason opens his mouth and stands but doesn't come any closer.

"Y/N please don't do this, I'm here. I'm with you, I swear, just please make him put the gun down. Throw a smoke bomb, run away, something,” he begs, tears of his own now cascading down his face.

“Not this time,” you whisper. You weren’t letting another sleep addled hallucination keep you alive, the pain that came with that burden was too much. Death was so much better. You just wanted it to end. "I'm sorry, Jay, but I can't."

Jason hiccups, shakes his head rapidly.

"Yes you can, just leave." He takes a step forward. The man’s finger begins pressing down on the trigger. "Just run away, please!" He screams out a plea you’ve heard more than once, a plea you can no longer heed to.

The gunshot goes off and you don’t dodge, you don’t try to lessen the blow, or make sure it hits somewhere non lethal. You just close your eyes and let the bullet break through already compromised armor.

"Y/N!"

- - -

The gun clatters to the ground as the gunman watches the hero slump.

“Shit.” He runs. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Vigilantes weren’t supposed to stay down in Gotham.

Your hand slides to your side; body limp and leant crookedly against the wall, black skin under you mask too washed out - to grey - to come back from.

There were no traces of any former Robins having been in the alleyway when the Batman found you. Just of one ordinary goon in a sea of many who you should’ve been able to fend off.

- - -

When Jason had gotten his mind back he'd been dead set on Gotham; on Bruce and finding his old best friend. So a few hours after he'd been back in his hometown he mustered up enough courage to go to your house.

Except it was different.

Where shelves were once overflowing with books and collectibles in your room they were now bare and dust riddled. Where a bed used to lay was just barren ground, and where it once felt like home it now felt more like rapid cruelty and crushing emptiness.

That night Jason had snuck back out of your old house with cold eyes and a churning stomach, he'd never admit to himself that he felt this much dread at missing out on so many years of life that you'd already moved out, moved on. Hell, your parents weren’t even there anymore.

That night he tries to blow up the Batmobile, Batman and the pretender in his place with it. That night he decides he can do much worse than some bomb.

- - -

It'd been a whirlwind trying to find you but eventually Jason did, just not the way he'd expected.

He had been looking for a couple of deserters and was ganged up on by a group of Mask’s thugs who had been working for him - guess he’d found those deserters - and were looking to get back in Mask’s good graces by taking down the Big Bad Hood and overthrowing his newly minted empire.

Jason had been chased over the rooftops of Gotham - picking off who he could as he went - till he could lose the group in the minefield that was the largest graveyard on the outskirts of the city.

He had been deftly making his way through the resting place when a bouquet of flowers caught his attention. Your favorite.

A small smile stretched across Jason's face as he sidled up to the tombstone. He initially meant to look at the flowers for a second before continuing on his way, but the beginnings of your name on the shiny stone caught him up.

Jason furrowed his eyebrows before sucking in a sharp breath after he let his thumb ghost over the engraved name to uncover what the dirt was hiding.

He took a step back in shock as he read your full name, clear as day, in the granite. Tears welled in his eyes and he ripped his helmet and domino mask from his face, dropping to the ground. His hands shook as they slid over the wet dirt that covered your casketed body.

“No. Fuck, not like this. I wasn’t supposed to find you like this.”

He was supposed to come back and make everything better. Bruce was supposed to finally avenge him, and you were supposed to reunite, not trade places.

e.NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is an edited/updated version of one of the first Jason Todd fics I’d ever written. I did keep some of its logistic oddness for preservation purposes though.

To my surprise also I didn’t have to edit as much of this as I thought, so props to twelve year old me fr😉. (Also I wrote this when I was actually suicidal so please be respectful, it is a tad bit mean-spirited - Maybe? I feel like it could come off that way to other people, idk?)

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

[havendance]

A Lonely Place of Dying

Companion piece to this. Also takes place in the helena dick roleswap au.

--

There was a kid in Helena’s apartment. Young, maybe in middle school, dark hair, nicely dressed if a bit grubby. Standing frozen where he’d been poking at the photo album Donna had given her, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Who are you?” Helena demanded. “And what are you doing in my apartment?” He wasn’t what she’d been expecting to find when she came back to find her door unlocked.

The kid jumped back. “I’m sorry!” he said. “I know I shouldn’t have broken in but I didn’t know where you were or when you’d come back and it’s important! It’s really important.”

Helena sighed. “Look, I don’t care what game you’re playing here, kid, but you’ve thirty seconds to get out of here before I call the cops.” She probably wouldn’t actually call the cops, just kick him out herself, but he didn’t need to know that.

“No! I promise this is, umm. Look, Batman needs you!” he blurted out,

“Excuse me?” Helena schooled her face to look like she thought the kid was crazy rather than reflect the spike of adrenaline his words had sent rushing through her.

The boy nodded. “I know you’re—” he glanced around furtively before whispering “—Nightwing and I know that Bruce Wayne is—” back to whispering “—Batman.”

Helena made sure the door was shut behind her. This was not the time to panic. “Who told you?” she demanded. If this was another one of Deathstroke’s games—

The boy had taken off his backpack. He looked up from where he was rummaging through it. “No one!” he said. “I figured it— I mean, it’s not important. I promise I never told anyone.”

“Who did you say you were again?”

“It’s not important.” He dug out a paper folder, shoved it into her hands. “Batman needs you.”

Helena opened it automatically. “Look—” she started to say before looking down and seeing just what was inside. It was Batman: pictures of Batman taken from far too close, amateur enough that it was probably the kid that had taken them. And wasn’t that a comforting thought?

“He’s been bad, really bad since Ja—” he stopped himself. “Since Robin died. I think he’s going to get himself killed.”

Helena flipped through: Batman looking beat to hell. Batman falling off the reservoir. Batman, soaking wet, staggering over to the Batmobile. She’d heard it was bad, heard the rumors that they were thinking of taking down the Batsignal. It was different seeing it. “Where did you get these?”

The boy shrugged. “I took them.” That’s what she was afraid of. They were far too close to the action to be comfortable. Batman should’ve seen him. The fact that he hadn’t was a whole other bad sign on its own. “He needs Robin. To hold him back. To remind him why he does it.”

“Robin’s dead, kid,” Helena said bluntly.

“You used to be Robin. If you go back to being Robin, you can help him. Robin’s the light to Batman’s darkness. He needs it. He needs you.”

That startled a bitter laugh out of her. “Batman’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t need me.” He’d made that clear after Jason, before Jason. Again and again. The wonder wasn’t that he’d fired her, but that she’d managed to last so long before he did.

“No,” the kid sounded almost heartbroken. He’d probably only ever seen the pretty picture they’d put on and not the ugliness underneath. “He raised you! He taught you everything you know. You were Batman and Robin. Can you really just abandon him like that?” He sounded so certain about all of it. That it meant something.

Helena sighed. The kid’s certainty was contagious. There had been good times there along with the bad. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll swing by and see if I can give him a hand. But as Nightwing. I’m not becoming Robin again. I can’t become Robin again.”

The kid sagged in relief. “Thank you,” he said. He started to eye her door.

Helena made a decision. “And you’re coming with me.”

“What?”

She smiled. “You’ve still got some explaining to do, kid.”

—

It took a couple of hours to drive from New York to Gotham. The kid (who’s name she still didn’t have) seemed content to sit in silence, but Helena wasn’t about to let him off that easily.

“So,” she said, after she’d made it out of the city traffic and onto the freeway, “You never told me your name.”

He shrugged. “It’s not important.” He was hugging his back to his chest, staring straight ahead out the front window. “I’m just doing this and then you’ll never see me again. You don’t need to know.”

Helena sincerely doubted that. “You know a lot of big secrets kid. That’s not just something we can let go.”

“Oh.” It sounded like that was occuring to him for the first time. “Even if I promise never to tell anyone? Or are you going to brainwipe me? I promise I won’t tell!”

Helena sighed. “No one’s going to brainwipe you. Just, how did you even figure it out in the first place?”

“Oh, that. It’s kind of silly,” he said. “I don’t think you need to worry about anyone else doing it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Well, you saved my life once,” he said, softly.

“I’ve saved lots of people.”

“As Helena Bertinelli, I mean, not Robin.”

“Oh?”

But she didn’t need to encourage him, he was already telling the story.

“I was 5,” he said. “There was this children’s event I think, some sort of fundraiser, at the Opera House and my parents had taken me. Two Face attacked in the middle.”

It was beginning to sound familiar.

“I don’t remember exactly what happened, but he grabbed me as a hostage I think. He was flipping his coin when you attacked him. You came out of nowhere and hit him with a fire extinguisher.”

Oh, she did remember that. She’d been twelve, with three years of Robin under her belt. Two Face had separated the children from the adults and she’d been there with none of Robin’s usual tools when he announced he was going to start killing people if his demands weren’t met. When he’d pulled out the coin.

“You were crying,” she remembered. “I gave you his coin.” She’d known his name then; she could almost remember it now, at the edge of her memory.

“I still have it,” he said fondly. “I thought you were the coolest ever after that. You were so brave.”

Helena had been terrified. Afterwards, Bruce had yelled at her about it, with the cold voice she’d learnt meant that he was afraid too. And afterwards, he’d held her so tight he thought he would never let her go.

“—and afterwards, I was convinced you had to be Robin because you were so cool.” Helena glanced over to see that he had an absentminded smile on his face. “I was only five. It was kind of silly.”

“It was right.”

“Yeah, but that was just luck. I mean, I looked for other evidence when I got older, and if you know what you’re looking for, you can see the connections, but like. I just got lucky. I mean, I was just a kid.”

He was still a kid, Helena didn’t point out. Instead she said, “All the secrecy, and it’s undone by a child’s guess. Impressive.” If Bruce weren’t currently trying to destroy himself, she’d almost be looking forward to seeing his reaction to it.

“Yeah. I wrote you a thank you note afterwards,” the kid added as an afterthought, “I don’t know if you ever got it.”

She had. It had featured an illustration of her attacking Two Face in crayon and a polite note that had clearly been written out by the kid’s parents, but he had painstakingly signed his name in crayon underneath. What had it been…

“Tim Drake!” She exclaimed at last.

The kid startled. “What?”

“That was your name. Tim Drake.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I couldn’t keep it a secret forever.”

“Nope,” Helena said. “You do realize I’m a detective?”

“Yeah,” the kid— Tim— sounded sheepish.

That thank you note he’d sent was probably still lying around somewhere. Maybe she could get Alfred to dig it up.

[edjectedly]

Hi!

How about "Shit... I have no idea how to look after them"? I cant pic between Bruce - Dick and Jason - baby Damian so it is up to you.

Hi! Sorry this took a bit. I also couldn’t pick so you get both, hope that’s okay!

Prompt Rules Here!

Send a Prompt Here!

~~~~~

Jason never liked to admit he agreed with Bruce, but at this moment he really wished magic didn’t exist. Maybe he never would’ve been brought back and have to deal with this.

“Okay Jason,” Bruce started, sounding as tired as Jason felt, “Zatanna will be here tomorrow. Alfred is ready to come home if this is going to last longer than a week, Tim is actively looking for the caster who did this, and Barbara is going to come over tomorrow morning to help.”

“So tonight we’re on our own? Got it.”

Jason looked over at the Batcomputer where two small figures were sitting. One Dick Grayson, the other Damian Wayne, both several years younger than they should’ve been. Luckily, they both had enough memories to know at least who Jason and Bruce were, other than that though everything was really fuzzy.

He estimated Damian to be about one, and Dick to be about six. It was so weird, he was not supposed to be the oldest brother. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to take care of kids, he could definitely do that, but putting up with them and Bruce? Awful, bad, no. He’s just gonna have to wish Bruce good luck and leave.

Right as he made up his mind Bruce let out the most pathetic whisper Jason had ever heard, "Shit... I have no idea how to look after them…" He trailed off, leaving Jason to look at him baffled.

Bruce really tried not to curse, thanks to Alfred, but he sounded so scared. Which was kind of fair, he would’ve never been around kids this young before. Fuck, Jason couldn’t just leave, he’d probably get them killed. He was the only one Bruce was going to get if he died trying. Ha.

He stretched his arm back behind his hand and huffed, “Good thing I’m here then. You’d probably give them shit to eat and try to send them to bed with sugar highs.”

“You’re staying?” Bruce looked over at him, hope in his voice and his mouth turning upwards at the corners.

“Uh yeah, you have no idea about kids.”

Bruce nodded, still looking rather happy. You know, for Bruce. “We should get them upstairs and to bed.”

“Without feeding them first?” Jason looked at him incredulous, “What did I just say?”

Bruce blinks and then nods. If you weren’t a Robin at one point, you’d probably not be able to tell he was embarrassed.

They both made their way over to the computer where Dick sat in the big chair, holding Damian tight in between his legs so he wouldn’t fall off the chair. Damian was going in between scowling and clapping like an actual infant.

Jason was never going to admit that they were adorable, no way.

“Bruce! Jay!” Dick bounces in his seat, smile wide and eyes positively glowing when he sees them both. “Look! Isn’t baby Dami soooo cute?”

Jason grins despite himself and nods before plucking Damian out of Dick’s grasp, and then sitting him on his hip. “Whatever you say Squirt, c’mon Brucie here is gonna find you both pajamas while I make some snacks before bed. You gonna go help him?”

Dick nods enthusiastically, throwing himself at Bruce the second he stands up in the chair. Bruce catches him easily and tosses him in the air a bit. Dick lets out a shriek of laughter. Much to Jason’s surprise he sees Bruce actually smile, and not like the upturn of the lips, no, a full blown grin like you’d see on a normal person.

“Alright Chum, you’re a bit smaller than when you came to the Manor, but I think we have some of your eight year old pjs upstairs.”

Dick climbs up on Bruce, settling for sitting on his shoulder. “Let’s go! It’s an adventure!”

Bruce lets out a laugh, Bruce laughs? and heads towards the stairs, “An adventure it is.”

Jason watches them go up the stairs before adjusting Damian so he was held out in front of him. “That was weird right? Have you ever seen him smile like that?”

Damian just blows a raspberry at him and babbles.

“Of course, of course, you’re totally right,” Jason hums, pulling him close as he makes his own trek upstairs.

He gets up to the kitchen and sets Damian on the counter, “Now, we don’t have a high chair so I’m keeping you in my sight, got it?”

The little baby nods resolutely much to Jason’s surprise. Bits and pieces of their older selves were shining through, but to see this infant look so determined was, well, adorable.

Jason putters around the kitchen, getting the stuff out for cucumber sandwiches. For Damian he just cuts up some strawberries, cucumbers, and broccoli. He also sneaks Damian some bites of one of Alfred’s cookies because how could you not? His big green eyes were just so cute.

Plus everytime he did Damian would giggle and Jason would never admit that he loved the sound. No. He didn’t like anything his brothers did, he would never admit it and no one could make him.

Honestly though, this wasn’t so bad. He could help out till Tim got back in the morning. He might need to stay more though, no way Tim knew anything about kids. He’d probably be worse than Bruce actually-

“Dick stop running!” Bruce called from somewhere down the hall as Dick slid into the kitchen laughing like an absolute maniac. 

Jason easily plucked him up before he smashed into the 

counter, “Dickiebird we can’t run from Bruce okay? He’s old and can’t keep up.”

Dick giggled and nodded before squirming to get back down. Yeah, Jason could definitely stay until this was fixed. Only because otherwise Bruce and Tim would kill them. And then Alfred would need help. No other reason.

[roseworth]

“I think… everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.” for the prompt list with Tim and Jason? (Of course including anyone else you want!)

send me a prompt \o/

(side note this takes place in my fantasy world where Teen Titans #29 never happened xoxo)

--

In all honesty, Tim should’ve seen this coming.

He had known that Jason was alive again, but he didn’t think that he would ever run into him. Jason didn’t even know Tim before he died, so he (hopefully) wouldn’t have an issue with him. 

Tim’s current philosophy was “stay out of his hair and maybe he won���t think too hard about how you replaced him,” and it was working pretty well so far. 

Of course, nothing ever goes right for long.

He should’ve known that the Red Hood would be working on the kidnapping case in Crime Alley, should’ve realized that they would both quickly come to the same conclusions. They were trained by the same detective, after all.

Tim had traced the kidnappings back to one location and ended up at a headquarters full of goons, just the way things usually go in his profession. He had already started to jump down to attack when he heard a thump on the other side of the room.

And looked over to see Red Hood drop down.

In the second before he landed, he weighed the pros and cons of grappling back up and running away, letting Hood handle it. But he was already there, and leaving now wouldn’t help anyone.

As soon as he landed, Jason’s head snapped over to look at him. “Robin.”

“Hey.”

Not the most eloquent first words to his predecessor, but the goons were starting to yell and attack them, so they didn’t exactly have time for pleasantries. “Stay nonlethal, Hood,” Tim told him.

“Stay nonlethal, Hood,” Jason mimicked in a high-pitched voice, shooting a goon in the face. Tim winced. 

As much as he hated it, he couldn’t fight Jason and the goons, not to mention the fact that Jason was twice his size and probably knew most of his moves. So, he left the fight for another day, and tried to knock down as many goons as he could on his own so Hood would have less to kill.

They worked strangely well together. They had both gone through Robin training, so they could each predict each other’s moves as they made them. And Tim would never tell him, but he couldn’t help but notice that Jason fought a lot like Batman. Just much more lethal. 

Tim breathed heavily as he took his last goon down, and watched as Jason hit his last one in the back of the head with his gun to knock him out. 

Jason holstered his gun without looking back at Tim. Tim took it as a victory that Jason didn’t start attacking him, then chose to push on.

He cleared his throat. “Hi. I’m Tim,” he greeted, dragging his hand down his shirt to wipe some of the blood off, then sticking it forward for a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Jason stared at his hand for a moment, not making any effort to reciprocate. “Okay.”

“It’s, uh, it’s crazy that you’re… alive. That’s pretty sweet.”

Jason didn’t respond. Tim shifted uncomfortably. 

“So, how’s… um... crime?”

Jason stared at him for another second. “We don’t need to small talk, Tim.”

“I know, I just… you know.”

“No, I don’t think I do.”

Tim ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “I mean, I used to see Batman and Robin in the papers all the time,” he said. “And, y’know, I’ve met Nightwing, and I guess I’m Robin myself now, but I just… it’s cool to meet you.”

Honestly, Tim had gotten used to his place in Jason’s shadow. When he first started training, it was always about what Jason would do, and whether or not he should’ve done it. He had lost count of the number of times Bruce had called him Jason’s name when he first put on the costume.

Tim used to feel like Bruce loved Jason so much that after he died, Bruce didn’t know how to love anyone anymore. He had clearly been trying to keep Tim at a distance for a while. It wasn’t until over a year into training that he really felt like Bruce cared about him as anything more than a sidekick. 

So he lived up to the expectations that were never there before, and tried to continue Jason’s legacy while not failing the way he had.

In a way, he wanted to get Jason’s stamp of approval. He would never say it out loud, but if Jason would tell him he did it, that he carried on the name well, it was all he needed. But with the way Jason is now… well, he didn’t think he was going to get that gold star anytime soon.

“Alright, Robin,” Jason said, folding his arms. “Let me ask you something: What do you know about me?”

It was a trap. Tim could see that from a mile away. He just wasn’t exactly sure what the trap was.

“Um… you were Robin. And you died.”

“What else?”

“You, uh, you rushed in early, and Joker… you know.” Tim made a half-hearted swinging motion with his hand, then immediately regretted it and pulled his hand down as fast as he could with an apologetic cringe. 

“Uh-huh,” Jason responded. “You know what’s funny? I don’t regret anything I did that day. I was helping someone in danger, and I did everything right, and still got killed. That’s the part that Bruce doesn’t want to talk about.”

“That’s part of the job, I guess. It’s not doing something wrong that kills you, it’s doing what’s right,” Tim said with a slight shrug. “I mean, look at Green Arrow and Superman. They were saving the world, and still died because of it.”

“So, I didn’t save the world, I just tried and failed to save one person,” he challenged. “Does that mean I did it wrong?”

“No–”

“I died, I came back, but I wasn’t still a hero. So I’m not a lot like Green Arrow or Superman, right?”

Tim frowned. “You can still be a hero if you wanted to.”

“But I don’t want to. Does that make you better than me?”

This time Jason wasn’t even trying to hide the trap. It was the verbal equivalent of a giant red X painted on the ground with an anvil hanging overhead. Tim wasn’t going to walk into it. 

“I think... everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves,” he said.

“And?”

“And no one is ever just good or bad, it’s about the opportunities they’re given.”

“I had plenty of ‘opportunities’ to be good,” Jason replied. “I was in your pixie boots a few years ago, and now I’m not. What do you think it says about me?”

“It means there’s good in you,” he answered earnestly.

Jason just snorted. “Cute,” he said, unfolding his arms. “Now, a little moral conundrum, if you will. Do you think that Joker isn’t good or bad? Was it just about his opportunities?”

“That’s not our choice to make.”

Jason gave a full-bodied laugh to that. “You’re like a mini Batman, aren’t you?”

Tim frowned. “I’m not as much like him as you think.”

“And yet, you keep reciting his mantras,” Jason said, walking toward the door. “You’re a good Robin, Timmy. Keep that ‘sir, yes sir’ thing going and you might even live ‘til college.”

Jason left, and Tim watched as he went. “I’m not Batman,” Tim grumbled to himself, looking at the unconscious bodies lying amongst the dead ones. “I’m not.”

[there-was-a-hole-here-itsgonenow]

Wasn’t able to reblog but I said this yesterday:

Here’s some tidbits and highlights from watching it with him:

- Kicking his feet over Jopper kiss, quite literally. He waited a long time for this.

- “Erica, bravest lil 11-year-old I’ve never met.”

- “Pothead to pothead communication.”

- “There’s gonna be an unhappy franchise owner at Surfer Boy’s in the morning.”

- “Why’s he making pizza?? Just because he can???”

- “Steve has balls [to talk about six nuggets in front of Nancy]”

- Went “ :(( ” when Lucas wrote ‘Movie Friday?’ Just knew something bad was happening.

- “I like Lucas a lot, man.”

- Sees Will watching Mike and El - “ooh no Will :( ”

- My brother loves romance in shows. This is not an understatement. It’s one of his favorite things. He enjoys seeing Jopper, Jancy, Lumax, and also thinks Dustin and Suzie are cute. But he never gets hyped over Milkvan. And just feels bad for Will in s4 especially because he’s always present in their scenes.

- They call it the shadow/ the shadow went into them “[remembers s2] Uh-Oohh the Mindflayer!”

- Passionate hatred for Jason, just wanted him to die.

- Got super tense about everything with Max, Lucas, El and everything else, but “the only thing getting me through this is that Jason has to die”

- Mad that Eddie didn’t leave the UD

- Lucas: “I never should’ve knocked” *starts snapping*

- Couldn’t stand Lucas getting beaten up, just wants Jason to die quicker

- No discernible reaction to Mike’s monologue as it was going; was pretty dead-silent and focused through a lot of the Vecna vs. El stuff except for seeing Henry take control of what would become the Mindflayer. The confirmation was interesting for him. But he said LATER that he felt like Mike was saying what he felt like he needed to tell El to get her through the fight. Like we say, not being genuine.

- Our dad walked in right before Mike’s monologue started and stayed; I felt secondhand embarrassment because he just 🤨

- After seeing what happened with Max, Lucas, and Eddie my brother just kinda deflated. Naturally. But quietly finger-gunned at the tv when Jason died.

- Yes he picked up on ‘there’s more to life than stupid boys’

- [at Robin and Vicki] “They’re the same person lol”

- Loves ally Steve smiling at Robin and Vicki; even giggled about it

- We get to the ending shots, he’s loving the “endgame feel” as he put it, and he literally pointed at each pair behind El and goes “Couple, couple, couple!!”

…

So he’s a big fan of Lucas (he’s said before that Steve is his favorite but maybe there’s been a shift lol), overall enjoyed the episode (I wish I had the same reaction he did back in July; our first reactions were polar opposite), and he knew endgame Byler when he saw it. He came to this conclusion on his own, based on what he understood.

My brother is a fan of the show, just not an active one. He’s not a casual GA but a regular GA who feels hype and tends to watch from a ‘narrative first’ perspective. And he sees Byler endgame on his own.