#which is a fucking lie. and bruce knows it. but he can't say no because being good enough to be robin is a huge part of jason's character

[brucie-baby]

I've got a lot of thoughts about "Robin gives me magic!" and absolutely none of them are coherent but I'm sharing them anyway.

So for context: this line comes from a story in which Calendar Man is planning to kill Jason, and Bruce tells him that he can work the case but not out in the field. There's a whole thing here where Jason gives Bruce the silent treatment until Bruce calls him immature and sends him to his room. That night, Bruce apologises and explains that he can't lose Jason, and that sometimes Batman has to go out alone. Jason says he understands but sneaks out anyway, planning to take Calendar Man on his own.

When he gets back to the cave (after Bruce has been searching for him despite bleeding out), Bruce tries to scold him. This is where he says that line, and that Robin lets him do things he'd never have dared before. Bruce says that it sounds like recklessness, and Jason says no, just maturity. There's a few more bits here that I have a lot of thoughts on but these are the most relevant parts of it.

The thing I find so interesting about this is actually from a different comic from a little while before. There's this guy, Collins, who wears Catman's costume and believes it has this magical ability to give him nine lives. Collins narrowly avoids death several times (e.g. nearly hit by a truck, almost crushed by rocks) and he thinks it's the suit's doing, but actually, it was Batman following and saving him every time. While they're fighting and Collins is insisting that the suit gives him magic, Bruce thinks, "I've created a monster - he's completely reckless - unwilling to concede there's any danger his costume can't handle!"

Now I also have a lot of thoughts on this that I might get into when it's not five in the morning but the main one is this: "Robin gives me magic" is not proof of Jason being the happy, chill Robin. This is him giving Bruce grey hairs in real time. This is him thinking that he's nearly invincible. To me, this would've been the perfect point to start shifting him into his post-crisis self. I think Jason's too complicated to label him as just reckless but also? I would not say it's wrong to. He is occasionally reckless and he does act without thinking sometimes. And just to clarify, this isn't criticism. I love pre-crisis Jason. He's my little guy. That's why I hate it when he's just boiled down to 'the happy Robin' (and the fact that it's a stupid label for any of the Robins, please let go of that), because he's been stressing Bruce out since day one. Like, this is the kid who said "if you don't make me Robin I'm doing to run away to the circus," and then did. And post-crisis he's very explicitly written as violent and reckless. He's always been a menace, don't take that away from him!!

[fandommothfreak]

I think Duke should be immortal in the "cannot die" sense and Jason should be immortal in the "cannot stay dead" sense and that they should keep this a secret from everyone including each other. And then they should both get caught in a situation that Absolutely Should Kill Them Instantly, miraculously not die, and then be like:

Like Jason shields Duke from some massive explosion or something, and Duke is horrified because he thinks Jason just pointlessly sacrificed himself for someone who would've been fine anyway - only for Jason to very casually come back from the dead, look at a completely unscathed Duke Thomas, and go, "Hey, what the fuck."

And Duke should look at a freshly revived Jason Todd and be like, "Me what the fuck? No you what the fuck."

And they end up both agreeing to not say a word about this to the rest of the Bats. Which poses issues. Because here you have a pair of unhinged vigilante siblings that do not fear death, that additionally now know they don't have to fear each other's deaths either, both unwilling to give anything less than everything they have to do what they think is right (and/or what they really, really want to).

So. Some things that happen in consequence:

Duke throws Jason off a fifty-story building in pursuit of some shoplifting rich asshole that was caught on camera insulting Duke's favorite metal band and being a classist fuck about it. This does, incidentally, re-traumatize Nightwing, who was ten feet away and not prepared to see his little brother yeeted off the side of a building, no grapple in sight - but it also traumatizes the shoplifter when Jason lands right in front of him, grotesquely knits himself back together, and rises from the ground in a distinctly horrifying fashion just to beat the shit out of him. So Duke takes the win.

Jason shoots Duke in the head to get him to stop shining light in his eyes in the middle of a gunfight. He does stop, but only because Batman shows up out of nowhere, and now Duke gets to pretend to be grievously injured while Batman yells at Jason about "self-control" and "maturity" and "putting teammates at risk." Meanwhile Duke is playing up this horrible concussion that he doesn't even have. Jason is seething. (Duke gets checked out at Leslie's. They convince her to lie for them by appealing to her inner petty bitch.)

Jason gets his payback a few months later by poisoning himself at an undercover op and subsequently forcing Duke to drag his dead body around a mob-owned nightclub for like half an hour trying to convince seasoned criminals that this brick shithouse of a man sprawled awkwardly across his back is just... really wasted. Totally not a corpse.

Both Jason and Duke get caught in many, many, many explosions after that initial reveal, and it's always terrifying for the rest of the Bats. It gets to a point where Batman refuses to partner Duke and Jason together for literally anything, because they always act fucking insane. Big metal vehicle moving hundreds of miles an hour towards an unsuspecting civilian? That's okay! Jason will just throw Duke in front if it. Unknown, volatile substance potentially being used by a notorious serial killer to murder his victims? No lab testing required! Duke will just pour a whole pint of the stuff on Jason's bare arm to see how it reacts. Bomb that can't be disarmed? Why wait for backup when these two psychopaths can just grab the thing and jump into the harbor? Like, genuinely. The stress. Bruce is one particularly traumatic incident away from actually considering therapy.

[glitter-stained]

Thinking about how some modern comics writers (Tom Taylor) write the batfam and why it doesn't sit right (this post centers around the robins because of their training but some of that reflexion would definitely fit for Barbara and Cass as well.)

The thing with writing a team of people with similar training and strength is you can't take the easy route of "well this one is the smart one! And this one is the flexible one! And this one is the strong one!" .... which is obviously reductive to all of their characters. Obviously, they have interpersonal differences; Dick, being raised as an acrobat, is the most flexible, but that doesn't mean that every single one of these little fuckers doesn't like to bend, twist and somersault to dodge bullets like an annoying worm on a string being flung around in the sky. They're Robins. Obviously, Jason is the bulkiest, but that doesn't mean they don't all go through hardcore conditioning -Tim is only considered "frail" when you put him between Bruce and Jason, this guy would bench-press you any day, come on. (And DC editorial can lie to us about the girls' weights and heights and make them at the limit of ed-territory even though they're doing parkour and hardcore martial arts every day but I know the truth, Steph's strong as hell, homegirl's got bazooka-level guns). Obviously Damian was raised in the League and is proficient in a bunch of martial arts, but they all received training from a bunch of different experts, including, for all of them, the same guy (that they are all so normal and chill about.) Obviously, Tim is the one who used detective work to figure out everyone's identity but you're kidding yourself if you think he's the only intelligent/detective one amongst the robins. Being smart and a detective is a defining part of all of their characterization, and so is being a leader and a strategist. And then of course with that kind of simplified characterization we end up with Steph being "the girl robin" and Damian "the assassin one/stabby one" and Duke "the meta one" (yes this post counts Duke as a Robin. They trained him and also just cause I wanted to. I love him.)

And even if we make an effort and try to dissect it "this one is the detective smart one! And this one is the strategist! and this one is smart in a more techy-way! And this one is the leader! And this one- hey what kind of intelligence do we have left..." obviously doesn't work either. Duke was a exhilarating strategist in WaR already, Jason's strategic work in UTH and detective in Lost Days is thrilling, Damian is a fucking child surgeon (do I need to develop how intelligent that kid is), Dick was the first leader of the Titans and is always doing detective work like, that's an inherent part of his character, Duke was a cute-ass baby doing puzzles and planning to defeat the Riddler himself, Steph literally became Spoiler to stop Cluemaster (girl knows to solve riddles that would make Nygma shit his pants), they've almost all lead a team at some point, etc, etc. All of this is great and cool and a character being great doesn't take away from the skills of another character! Stark contrasts cannot possibly be the only interesting team dynamics, especially since they already have their own teams of contrasting skillset and personalities.

Imo, best robin team-up dynamics is them stepping on eachother's toes with their plans, getting into rapid-fire brainstorming sessions where they're all finishing eachother's sentences, reaching a conclusion and saying it out loud at the same time, one of them having a crazy ass plan and suggesting it to the other and the other saying "i like the way you think" to that person who thinks exactly like them, getting mad at eachother for being stubborn while also being a stubborn little shit, pulling complicated acrobatics together, and just thriving solving a good old complicated mystery with other people who are just as competent and enthusiastic about detective work as them but not a carbon copy, with extremely specific strength and weaknesses and quirks (like Dick's ability to recognise heroin by putting it in his mouth, Damian's uncanny voice imitation ability, etc.)

Of course, this doesn't even begin to touch the family drama, but honestly we get so much family drama angst with no real consequence rn, I'd really love just a robin team-up, relatively low-stakes (aka nothing taking over the city, the world, no past traumas unearthed to haunt them or parental abuse or secret cults etc etc.) Just a very elaborate murder mystery and a good excuse for all the robins to be there and a story that works with their similarities and their potential (both comedic and in terms of plot) rather than erasing it. It would be so much fun!

[sanguineterrain]

Would you be willing to write a Jason Todd x reader inspired by the bulletproof vest scene from Criminal Minds? Maybe it's early in their relationship and they're fussing after hearing he's been shot. Maybe with an annoyed Damian breaking up their flirting?

(Here is the scene if you don't know what I'm talking about!! youtube.com/watch?v=C2bjYavXWec)

Haha this was such a fun prompt! Thanks for sending 🩷 I love prompts inspired by tv scenes

jason todd x gn!reader. minor injury, fluff, suggestive/implied nsfw, making out, implied timkon

****

Jason opens the door, looking extra comfy in his GU sweatpants and a Wonder Woman t-shirt. His curls stick up in fifteen different directions, making him look like an overgrown chick.

You'd coo if your heart hadn't been in your stomach all night.

"Hey, ba—"

You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The force of your embrace makes Jason stumble back a step. You suddenly remember his injury and reel back.

"Baby, what's goin' on?" His eyes are wide. Jason holds onto you, inspecting you right back.

"I'm so sorry!" you say, hands fluttering over his body. "Oh God, did I reopen stitches? Fuck, fuck—"

"Sweetheart." Jason places both hands on your shoulders and guides you away from the door. He kicks it shut with his foot. You both settle on the couch. "What're you talking about? Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" You sit up. Jason rests his head on the back of the couch, watching you. "God, Jason, you got shot! I heard you caught fire this morning so I got here as quickly as I could. Did I reopen stitches? Be honest because I swear to God, Jay, if you lie to me about that..."

"Honey. Oh my love. Y'know I'm crazy about ya?" Jason holds your face with both hands and squishes your cheeks. He's smiling. "I got shot in my bulletproof vest. No stitches required. Who told you I got shot?"

You take his hands and hold them to your chest. "Well, I was listening to the comms 'cause I can't sleep when you have overnight missions and—"

"You haven't slept all night?" Jason frowns. "Baby, you need to sleep."

You scoff. "None of that matters, Jay. What I'm hearing is that you still got shot!"

"'S not a big deal, honest. Just a few bruises. Leslie wrapped me up, see?"

Jason lifts his shirt. His ribs are wrapped in an ACE bandage. You feel around for a secret wound.

"No blood?" you ask, poking at the edges.

Jason laughs and catches your hand. He kisses your knuckles. "No, sweetness. No blood. 'S just a little sore." He lets his shirt fall. You're only a little disappointed by the loss of his bare skin.

"Why would Bruce send you out in a bulletproof vest? Of all the stupid—usually you wear your armor! That's actually bulletproof! Vests are bullet-resistant. That's like saying Gotham rats are toxin-proof. Just because they don't die from the Joker gas anymore doesn't mean they aren't higher than kites when it happens."

Jason kisses your cheek. It turns your insides ooey-gooey. He's always so warm, so solid.

"Mm. I'll call Merriam-Webster tomorrow and relate your beef with 'em. And to answer your question, I was undercover, so no armor. But I am fine. Okay?"

"I'll be the judge of that, mister."

You hike his shirt up to his neck and pat down his chest. Jason honest-to-God giggles, which only encourages you. You pinch the soft skin under his biceps, then kiss down his sternum. He squirms, sliding so he's lying on the couch.

"Tickles," Jason says, letting you love on him.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm trying to conduct a very serious medical examination," you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "I think I'll need a closer look at these."

You kiss Jason's right pectoral, and his face flushes pink like it always does because you know how sensitive he is there and how his sensitivity makes him shy. Your mouth grazes his nipple and a tiny grunt pushes out of his throat.

"'M just a piece of meat to you, huh?" He catches you with a hand on your hip.

You smile and nip his neck, careful of his bandage. Jason's breath hitches.

"Please, baby, show mercy. Want me to get on my knees an' beg? I will."

"Sir, that is highly unprofessional language for this procedure. I'm afraid I'll have to give you an oral exam to see what's causing that filthy mouth of yours."

"Yeah, I'll show you filthy," Jason murmurs, cupping the back of your head. "Let's see how filthy y'get when I—"

"Oh my God, stop."

"Todd!"

You freeze with Jason's mouth on your neck and your shirt rucked up. Tim and Damian are at the edge of the living room. Tim looks nauseous. Damian's mouth is shriveled like a prune.

You scramble off of Jason, mortified, and smooth down your shirt. Jason leisurely turns his head, still holding onto you. He sighs.

"What d'you brats want?"

"To erase the last sixty seconds from my brain," Tim says.

Jason grins, all teeth. "That can be arranged."

You roll your eyes. "We're sorry, guys. Did you need Jason?"

"Yes. Father wants you back at the Cave immediately for debrief," Damian says, glancing at Jason's exposed bandages with tangible disgust.

You tug down Jason's shirt. His mouth quirks briefly before he registers his brother's request.

"Oh, hell to the fucking no. I got back two hours ago. Tell him to fuck off."

"I think you tell him enough for all of us," Tim says. "It's just a debrief. Babs started timing him and he's been good about keeping them short."

"He can email me. I'm not going to the Cave for a damn debrief."

Tim squints at Jason, then you. "I see. You know, you're awfully energetic for someone who should be recovering. Leslie benched Dick the last time he overexerted himself."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be speaking about exertion after what you and Connor did at the Kents' fourth of July picnic last year, Timbelina."

Tim somehow turns more pale. Damian whips his head around.

"Drake? What is he talking about?"

"Nothing. C'mon, Damian, let's go. Jason can debrief later."

He hauls a protesting Damian out the fire escape. Jason waves after them.

"Uh-huh, take care now, bye-bye! Close the window on your way out!"

The window slams shut. You look at Jason, eyes wide.

"What...?"

He shrugs. "Brotherly blackmail. All in good spirit."

"I see. You really don't need to go? I can wait."

"Nah. Bruce can wait. I have a very important injury that needs tending to."

You roll your eyes, smiling. "Uh-huh. Are you sure you're okay?"

Jason kisses you. "Positive," he says against your mouth. "This is nothing. But I appreciate you worrying about little ol' me."

"I'll always worry about you, Jay."

He ducks his head and nudges your neck like a cat. "I know, baby. 'S why I'm the luckiest guy in the whole wide world."

[kenobers]

just read your Obi-Wan mafia story...What about a Jason Todd mafia au 👀

ngl i think about this a lot bc one thing about me is that i love a good mafia au (not in a dark romance way) and i'm surprised they aren't more common in jason todd-batfam spheres. but i've specifically been thinking about the incredibly niche arranged marriage subgenre of mafia fics and jason quite a bit lately

Like always, Wayne is a prominent name in Gotham, but they're just as prominent in the criminal underworld as they are in high society. Instead of a fearsome vigilante, the Batman is an elusive mafia Don that only a few outside of the underworld know is really Bruce Wayne.

Your parents are District Attorneys working under the table for Maroni, a rival of the Batman. Maroni brings up your name to Bruce while discussing potential ways to marry their two families in an alliance. After all, Maroni has no daughters of his own and marrying you to one of Bruce's wayward boys would ensure your parents stay under his thumb. The idea of an arranged marriage is a little old fashioned to Bruce, but he thinks it might help rein in Jason, the most unruly of his sons.

So without getting much of a say, you and Jason get hitched. Needless to say neither of you are happy about the situation, but Jason's got a lot more attitude about it. He's cold, he's mean, he's scary. He's the most mysterious Wayne child, both in the crime world and regular society. So all you've heard about Jason is that he's violent.

Thankfully, he never seems to be home enough to prove whether or not that's true. When he is home, he hardly talks to you unless it's absolutely necessary or you're in his way.

At first you try to remedy the stiffness. You try making dinner, reading books from his shelf, asking if he wants to watch a show together, inviting him out with your friends. You know this isn't a marriage of love, but that doesn't mean you have to be enemies. It's nice to have a friend. However, he's stubborn. The more he ignores or sneers at your attempt, the more miserable it makes you. He looks at you like this is all your fault, like he's comparing you to the hook-ups you're sure he's having. It all just makes you feel like complete shit. After a few weeks, you just start glaring back.

It's frustrating. It's frustrating to have a moody husband that doesn't want anything to do with you. It's even more frustrating when you through in the whole mob situation on top of that. Of course you had your suspicions about your parents connections. Of course you already knew to look over your shoulder, to not say anything. But at least you didn't have to know anything.

You're not supposed to ask when Jason comes home with blood on his hands, but you always know what it's from. You know what the unlabeled packages hidden in your bathroom are. You know which cops to call if Jason gets arrested. You know which important figures are being paid off, which ones are secretly in the Family; including your father-in-law because on top of all this, you also have to be a Wayne now.

You can't see your friends as much because you might accidentally blab to them (and you're too paranoid to risk getting any of them in trouble). You can't explain to them why you married Bruce Wayne's son out of nowhere. You can't even talk about Jason to the friends that stuck around after your big 'reveal' was received as a slap in the face to your entire friend system. You just had to lie that you'd been keeping you 'relationship' with him a secret. You've been "asked" not to work until the powers that be are absolutely positive you can be trusted. Although you have a sinking suspicion that it's just a ploy to turn you into a housewife. It feels like there's always someone watching you, making sure you're behaving and keeping quiet.

All this for a husband who frankly couldn't give a fuck about you.

Maybe you should be glad that Jason ignores you. You've heard the stories about mob wives. You know that he could be worse. You'd rather have a husband that can't stand to touch you than one who puts his hands on you.

But still.

It's lonely.

At least Jason's siblings are nice. Dick's made it a habit to check-in on you and Jason once a week. Mostly on you, you think. Since he mostly swings by when Jason's out of the apartment. Dick is good company. He's easy to get along with, appreciates your cooking and is sympathetic to your struggle with being thrust head first into this life. But he never stays for long and he always looks at you with so much pity. Even if he is interested in getting to know his sister-in-law, you both know he's really here because he knows his brother is a jerk.

Once he let it slip to the other siblings that you make bomb cookies, they start showing up unannounced every now and then. They're weird, but they're fun. You would make more of an effort to form an actual friendship with them if you didn't think it would lead to arguments with Jason. You're not willing to risk your peace, even if it's miserable.

Still, you let yourself feel some satisfaction at the way Jason's temple throbs every time he comes home to find Tim and Duke have accidentally gotten sucked into whatever you're watching.

Months of marriage purgatory come to a head when Jason comes home in the middle of the night to find you drunk off your ass. It's your friend's birthday. You haven't spoken to her since your engagement to Jason was announced. If you had to guess, she probably didn't feel like she could trust you after you had to make everyone think that you just casually hid a serious relationship. She probably assumed you just didn't trust her. You sent her a 'happy birthday, I miss you' message, only to realize you'd been blocked. Which stung more than any bitch face Jason could ever make at you.

So you celebrate her birthday with a bottle of gin. Fuck it, no one's here to judge you. Until your meanass, killjoy excuse of a husband interrupts you by having the audacity to come home. Jason discovers you hunkered down on the couch, lips to bottle, scrolling pathetically through old pictures from when you actually had a life.

Jason rolls his eyes at the sight. He probably would've just gone to bed and left you to your own devices, but the contents of that gin bottle have been utterly depleted since he poured himself a glass last night. He's not about to risk waking up to see you've choked to death on your own vomit. Dick would never let him hear the end of it.

So instead he scoffs and chastises you, subtly trying to get you to explain why you're plastered without making it seem like he cares. He's expecting some swallow, 'whoopsie-daisies' response, but instead he accidentally opens up your floodgates.

You tell him all about your friends, how this marriage destroyed your life, how lonely you are. That...That strikes a nerve for Jason. He's been so frustrated with suddenly having to share his space with a stranger, that he hadn't stopped to think about how much of an actual change this was for you. To be roped into the mafia, of all fucking things.

"...This must all be so terrifying for you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. You look at him with sad eyes, glazed over with gin and dark with exhaustion.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Jason will never forgive himself for the fact that this is the first real connection the two of you have shared this entire time. He feels even shitty that it took him seeing you like this to decide to be nicer to you.

He isn't sold on being a husband yet, but he supposes he knows a thing or two about being a friend. And maybe it would benefit him if you knew a thing or two about being in the mafia. He would feel better about leaving you alone at home if he was confident in your ability to handle a piece.

He can't fix everything overnight, but this...this is a start.

[need-a-name-101]

PJOxDC Crossover

in which Duke is the son of Apollo who went to camp like once before he became robin and then later signal. He goes to New York for some reason and gets attacked by a monster, gets taken to camp and finds out his dad is Apollo. When the others find out that he is from Gotham, they just introduce him to Bernard who is also at Camp and a son of Apollo. Bernard tells him that Gotham is such a fucked up place even Greek Gods and Monsters don't go there often. They go back to Gotham. A year or so pass by Bernard helps Duke understand as much of his powers as he can (I hc Bernard as a medic). They grow close. While around the same time, Bernard meets Tim again and the Children of Dyonusis shit goes down. (Duke for plot reasons is not there, Why idk will make something up) Tim and Bernard start dating.

Duke plays his powers as being a Meta. Bruce and the otheres buy it because thry have no reason to belive that a secret socirty of Greek demigods are in NY. It is so because of the mist, the mist is strong even Diana and the Amazons are unware about camp. After the Giant War. (Which Bernard and Duke were not a part of), The mist stats to fail, so the demigods aka Percy, Annabeth, Nico, Will, Piper, Leo, Jason (If the AU is he lives), Frank, Hazel and all decide to go to ask the Amazons for help. But upon taking with them they find out that The Amazons were unaware of their existance. Then they decide to join force to find out a solution and build relations.

until then in Gotham Tim and Bernard are together. Tim introduces Bernard to his family slowly and one of the first people he meets is Duke. Tim is trying to figure out the mystery of why do Bernard and Duke know each other. They both said summer camp, but Tim knows them both well enough to know that they are lying to him. Why would they lie about it? But it's not a main focus because, Duke and his boyfriend get along and thats enough. He once brings it up with Bernard but he just says "It's like how you waited for a while before telling me your a vigillante" And Tim leaves it at that. When both of them are okay with him know they'll tell him.

While the Demigod and the Amazon gang find out that their quest to fix the mist will take them to Gotham. Wonder Woman just sighs and tells them that They have to contact Batman that they will be in their territory. negotiations are made with Batman and he agrees only if one of the Bats of he himself is with them when they are out on the streets. Diana has no choce but to agree because Greeek gods maybe crazy but Gotham is crazier. While Will rembers that two of his brothes are from Gotham and they coukd ask for help but he hasn't talked to them in a while (Sue me even if Duke and Bernard don't go to Camp as often, they do keep in touch with Will)

Duke straight up refuses saying he lives with his foster dad/adoptive (Whatever AU it is) And his kids. He can't just have that many People over. Bernard agrees, and calls up Duke saying they have to tell Tim, Duke in reluctance agrees he’s still new enough to question his relations with the rest of his family. So later that day Bernard and Duke break it to Tim about camp, Greek gods and all that. Duke talks about his powers, and Tim nods and says he understands and will keep it secret from the rest of the family until Duke wants him to.

Tim later says that if Diana is going to come here then they are defiantly working with Batman. Bernard says that he is only letting them stay with him and is not partaking in whatever quest bought them here. They need to either come up with a cover and say why the demigods are staying with Bernard and Tim( they live together okay) or just straight up hide it from Bruce (the murder boat is fun but for this AU let’s pretend it doesn’t exist or it does and Tim just straight up buys an apartment or something for the demigods to stay at)

So later when the demigods arrive they meet up with Batman and Robin (Damian, to clarify) tell them the gist of their quest. Diana is obviously there. Then they part ways, Tim has taken the night off, so he and Bernard meet to demigods minus Diana. Duke is there too. The two of them tell them that Tim knows so it’s fine.

This is now when absolute chaos breaks, you have demigods who are most of them if not all, can’t sit still. All of them think Gotham is weird as hell but Tim , Duke and Bernard are like yeah it a Tuesday man. Will thinks that Bernard’s boyfriend is some mafia guy. Because if the small cuts and bruises but dismiss the theory after spending like a week in Gotham, because dam this city gets attacked a lot. The demigods undergo the quest, with help from the bats.

Them some shit happens and now the bats have no choice but to have the demigods plus Diana Stay at the manor so identity revel but they are all made to swat on the river Styx by Bernard to never revel their ID. Then boom more chaos because, “you are telling me that the bimbo Bruce Wayne is batman” “your boyfriend’s a vigilante.”

Duke had to now tell the family that he’s a demigod. It doesn’t really change anything. But it changes things. They’re still fine, it was not as a big deal as duke thought.

(Idk if I’ll ever write it so feel free to write this au but pls share a link cause I’d love to read it)

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Damian has been in the family for a while he has made his peace with Drake understood that no matter what he has a place but he still can't understand the dynamics. Maybe it isn't exactly the most intelligent choice to track down Todd and ask but he figured it was the best option.

Sitting on Todd's couch in the middle of crime alley eating a dish he can only vaguely remember his mother making he isn't exactly regretting it yet.

"So let me get this straight bat brat, you don't get how people work so you came to me?" Todd's confusion isn't exactly surprising but it is unhelpful to his plight.

"No I understand people, well when I have to I do not understand the bats." He at the moment can't bring himself to actually act with the dignity his mother expects of him another way Gotham had corrupted him.

-

Jason can't say he expected to feed and be interrogated by the demon brat he just wanted to relax but this isn't exactly a surprise now that the kid has chilled out he was almost waiting for it.

"You want me to give you a cheat sheet to how our family actually works becusse you are now realizing that Talia didn't understand shit and it fucked you?"

He can't keep the pure joy out of his voice knowing that he is actually gonna get to knock the kid down a peg after today.

"Not in those words Todd but I understand you have a perspective that I may lack."

God demon looks pissed below the joy he understand that this is actually important and he needs to explain this well knowing this could make or break the already pretty fucked up kid.

"Alright listen and don't fucking interrupt me save your questions and bitchness for the end do I make myself clear."

Holding the kids eyes he sees the kid is actually paying attention as he nods maybe Dickie really did find out the secrets housebreaking who knows.

"Ok let's start with me and I'm gonna be sappy for ten seconds and if you ever repeat this I will shoot you and put you in another duffle bag ok, ok good. I'm your brother I love you would kill for you that whole bullshit. I'm also Dick's, and Tim's brother, on days I don't want to kill the old man I'm his son."

God he's gonna need a smoke after this bullshit fuck he sees the kid is nodding good he hasn't lost him.

"Now Dick is my older brother he's not yours you can lie to yourself all you fucking want but he's your dad teaching you how to be a real boy and all that shit."

He sees an embarrassed flush and the start of protests but he's not dealing with it that bullshit the kid can work on in his own time.

" You wanted it your gonna fucking hear it, now Tim-Tam the sleep deprived idiot is a bit more complicated."

He takes a breath trying to put into words what he wants to say.

"Why is Drake complicated wouldn't he be somewhat easy" the confusion isn't a good sign maybe it is better the kid came so he can restrain him if he has too.

"Tim is the best of us alright, he's someone I want to protect I love him truly even if he's an annoying little shit. Now listen Tim is a lot like you when it comes to Dick crossing the line between Dad and Brother. Tim will always side with Dick that's his Robin and Tim is Dick's. You can't be a jealous little shit here because I don't even fully understand them."

"Bruce isn't Tim"s dad at least on his end Dick is, Bruce loves Tim but no one can ever replace Dickie just like you which is honestly half the reason you hated the kid."

-

Damian is now regretting this conversation he thought this would be simple once again he has somewhat lost his mind since coming to Gotham.

Yet he knows Todd's right that the way Grayson looks at Drake is the same look he gets and the same part of him who loves his animals and loves Richard feels guilty because he knew. He just didn't want to admit it.

"Why I don't understand why is Timothy so different to any of us even you, both of us tried to kill him yet he seems to matter so much"

frustration is leaking through but this is what he wanted to know why Drake is so important even to him why, what is so special about him.

Todd is hesitating but slowly steeling himself Damian cant help but to copy him knowing whatever comes out isn't gonna be easy it's gonna hurt but he asked didn't he.

"Tim was the first, the one to really unlock Dick not being well a dick he knows parts of all of us, secretswhatever, the shit that matters. Bruce, Dick, me even you, we don't run shit ok Wayne Entetprises, plans Tim does. Dick and Tim are the glue holding us together without them we would be fucked you know that."

"That's what's so special about him everything we do Tim has a part of he's genuinely irreplaceable and it bothers the fuck out of both of us."

Damian can't breathe he just runs words he never wanted admitted are stabbing through his mind he doesn't stop until somehow he ends up in his bed at the manor he just hides pushing it down the real reason he tried to kill his brother the fact that he almost broke the family he just hides he shouldn't have asked.

Maybe Richard was right being naive was a gift and now he can't go back.

[suzukiblu]

Greetings! I truly enjoy your writing, and I would like to see more of the Tim/Kon soulmates AU, if you feel like it!

Thank you! I do have a bit more of it lying around, sooooo . . .

Continued from here, for anyone who needs the setup.

It's early morning in Honolulu and Tim is very, very tired. He didn't sleep on the flight because he was making plans, but to be honest said plans are all shit. His best option is gonna take six months to fully execute, for starters. Which is a reasonable amount of time to have to spend getting a near-complete stranger to trust you enough to let you kidnap them away from everything and everyone they know, he knows, but still. It's not even that solid a plan, even discounting the frustrating time delay. It's just the best of a bad lot.

Maybe Tim should've, like . . . actually stopped long enough to tell Bruce what he was doing and get some advice. Or at least Alfred, anyway.

Just . . . it's fine, Tim tells himself as he and his go-bag get a taxi. This is just preliminary work anyway. Recon more than anything else. Ideally he'll manage to "meet" Superboy, but he's not dumb enough to think he's going to get the guy to like him this quick, much less trust him. The goal is "passing awareness of his civilian identity's existence" and nothing else.

Then the street kind of blows up in front of his taxi.

So that's a whole thing.

And here's Tim without so much as a damn domino in his pocket.

People are screaming, things are very literally on fire, and some rando in lycra is yelling at the cop car on the corner. Normal Tuesday, really, except it's broad fucking daylight and again Tim doesn't have a mask on him, much less his bo staff or utility belt or anything actually any kind of useful.

Fuck airport security, Tim thinks.

"Who's the jerk with the monologue?" he asks the driver, who seems largely nonplussed by the whole situation and has definitely left the meter running while they're trapped between the other cars and the blown-up street. Priorities, Tim guesses. Can't blame a guy for having them.

"Beats me, man," the driver says with a shrug. "I don't keep track of the spandex set, I just take the necessary detours around 'em when I'm working."

"That might be lycra," Tim says, reaching for his wallet. "But fair enough. How much do I owe you?"

He doesn't have a mask right now, no, but he can't just leave civilians unprotected. He can at least help people get out of the area and maybe distract the lycra rando for a bit, if it comes to it. If nothing else, he can–

Somebody in flashy red and blue and a black leather jacket crash-lands on top of the lycra rando with very deliberate flair, and then the street blows up again.

This time, though, the explosion is definitely telekinetic in origin.

Specifically tactile telekinetic, Tim thinks it's safe to assume.

He pays the driver, then grabs his go-bag and gets to getting people out of the area as subtly as possible while Superboy and the lycra rando tear up the street even worse. Like, almost impressively worse. Tim really wouldn't have thought the damage could even get that much worse, but they both find a way.

He is going to have such a hard time convincing Bruce to let him drag Superboy to Gotham.

Well, it's a six-month plan. Maybe the guy will mellow out a bit somewhere in there. Learn some subtlety. Pick up a bit of finesse.

Tim isn't actually that delusional, obviously, but that's the lie he's gonna tell Batman.

[kingsofneon]

Concept is: JayTim omegaverse non//con, where Jason decides he wants Tim's first heat in exchange for joining the pack. Tim knew his first would be sold, it's just a thingTM, but once he started living with Bruce, had been under the impression he'd get to pick....based off https://archiveofourown.org/works/47094745. But i wanted to see more character study/what tim thought about the situation of having his first heat sold off. And then also mind break because it Feels Good, which is my favourite 🎉 Sorry! 💪

Tags: non//con / mind break / omegaverse. Size difference, ONLY jaytim unlike the insp fic. About 1k of a snippet bc i lost juice unfortunately. I would say Tim is about 17-18 and Jason is 19-20: takes place probably after the Joker UtRH standoff. Bruce is a Bad Dad in this.

Tim doesn't know Bruce intends to sell his heat when Bruce knocks cautiously on his door frame and says, "Would you be alright to patrol alone tonight?"

"What?" he asks, then, "Oh, yeah, I mean, sure. That's fine. Did you let Dick know? We were going to go past Burnley for that smuggling case."

Bruce's face gets all...twisted. "Yes," he says, and Tim can lie to Batman - but Batman can't lie to him. He frowns, but lets it go.

When Jason corners and scruffs him, he doesn't realise it's connected to Bruce. It's only after Jason clicks his tongue in disdain and says, "You'd think fucking Batman wouldn't have me do all the work," that he realises something about this is planned. He kicks back, trying to catch Jason's leg, but Jason's fingers worm under his gorget and press harder, cracking a strangled whimper from Tim's throat. He hates being scruffed on patrol, and Jason - Red Hood - has never been gentle.

"Jay," he breathes out, because scruffing barely makes it possible to think, let alone talk, "wha's-?"

Is it proof he still trusts his "allies" too much, though Jason is barely considered as such? A lesson, because Tim keeps skipping scruff training to pack bond with Young Justice?

What test is this, he wants to ask, how do I win?

He doesn't think about heat until Jay's wrist is pressed to his nose and his next inhale burns. He coughs, struggling harder against the scruff as menthol and magic burn against the roof of his mouth.

"You're- in trouble-" Tim says, slurs really, fighting to get the words out. "Jay. Jay- rut-"

"I won't be in trouble," Jason promises, softer than he's been so far. "And we might finally get rid of your stupid Bat-worship. So you can see how Bruce really treats his kids."

"M'not? His kid-" Tim manages as Jason's fingers sink further into his neck, making him choke as it moves from scruffing to leverage. Jason hauls him up, a dizzying movement when Tim's thoughts are already syrup, and he barely hears Jason's words as he gets dragged down to street level.

"I know, little bird. It's why this'll teach both of you a lesson."

The lesson is this: Tim is shoved down a fire escape and into an empty room, head still reeling from Jason's rut-scent and the mean scruffing. He's trained enough to hear zipties and mostly break out of it, but Jason's still bigger than him, and the broad palm pressed flat to his back is warm and awful.

Jason comes up behind him, and Tim flinches at the press of a knife against his side. It slides firmly under the stitching, leaving him shivering in the night air, skin pebbled with goosebumps.

This is the lesson, Tim thinks as Jason shoves him onto an unmade bed. Don't trust your allies.

This is the lesson, Tim thinks. Don't let people tie you down. They'll want to hurt you.

Jason peels off their scent blockers, leaving them on the bedside table, and pulls Tim to the edge of the bed. He makes Tim sit up, and cups his cheek when he pulls off Tim's mask.

This is the lesson, Tim thinks, his heart beating double-time, his scent floating in the air and easily drowned out by the smell of Jason's oncoming rut. They'll be soft. They'll be mean. They want to see you undone.

"Tim Drake," Jason says, hand cupping Tim's cheek. "I'm going to show you why Batman should never have had another Robin."

"We were past that, asshole," he manages, the scruffing having faded and his stomach in knots, too nervous to keep him drifting and pliant thanks to the oddness of Jason's actions.

"No," Jason said. "No, we never got past that. 'Cause you never gave it up, and Bruce won't admit he's wrong, and I'm going to show you - he wants me back more than he wants to take care of you. He's always gonna want something more than he wants to take care of you."

"Your mommy issues are not universal," Tim scoffs, and then Jason presses a knee to his crotch and Tim jolts. "Wait, what are you-"

"Batman," Jason repeats, vitriol in his tone, "wants me to rejoin his pack. I don't give a shit about his fucking pack. But he said I could take it out on you."

"And- you told him where to shove it," Tim says, because Robin's still about hope and he's never learnt his lesson, no matter how many times Bruce tried to teach it.

They want to see you undone.

"Tell me, little bird. You shared a heat yet? Picked who you're gonna sell it to?"

His stomach flinches involuntarily. He can make a connection faster than he can stop a reaction, and this connection lets slip a lot. Too much.

"Omega don't pick who buys their first heat," Tim says, steady and firm, his hands clenched behind his back as he thinks about Jason's thigh between his legs.

"Yeah but Brucie's always been such a soft touch with his pack. Everyone knows it. His lil wards are special. They get to pick."

"I'm not his ward," Tim tries, "My family already had expectations-"

"Batman's not, though, is he. If you had to compare. Batman wants what's good for Gotham."

"What did you want for it?" Tim growls, because playing the fool only gets you so far if the person you're playing against won't let you divert.

"Aw, baby bird, I'm gonna get it. It's more about what he wanted for it. We'll see how that goes."

-----(this is where i lost juice and need a connection pt1)

"Wait, wait, wait-" he pleads, breathless and barely stretched, Jason's perfunctory fingers having done less than just heat alone, and his cock felt maddening, pressed against Tim's cunt. "Please-"

"You want me to slow down?" Jason says, and Tim can hear his grin through the words; can hear his laughter when Tim nods, just on the edge of frantic.

"S'too much," he whispers, mortified, and his fist curls into the blankets. He can't take Jason's cock, not like this, not with his core shaking and his mouth already fumbling, stumbling, tripping over his brain. "I- I can't-"

And now so is his cock.

"Think I'll fuck you stupid?" Jason sneers, and Tim's stomach curls, because...humiliatingly, yes. How could he not, when Jason knew what he was doing? When the heat of Jason's body pressed against his back reminded Tim so much of the singular time Robin had rescued him and scented him, chuffing in the tone of a reward: good-puppy-safe. Jason's new scent burns his nose, but the memories are still there.

Tim cries out at the stubborn press, Jason's cock bullying into his pussy, and his hips jerk against it. The grip Jason has on his waist keeps him presented, though, unable to escape, and then suddenly they're pressed together and Jason's other hand is at his throbbing clit. "Don't worry, little bird," he sneers, pulling back to thrust and making Tim choke, "Bruce will be able to replace you too."

A sob slips free of Tim's mouth, Jason's words taking a reckless stab at his heart even as pleasure rockets through his frame, and he buries his head in his pillow to try and muffle any further noises.

It doesn't stop him from going slack-mouthed and moaning as his second orgasm hits, though, and the clench of his cunt around Jason's cock makes him claw at the sheets, drooling. It feels so much bigger when he's clenching around it, and the aftershocks make him tighten involuntarily, rhythmically, riding it out and trying to convince Jason to knot.

Jason's hot inside him. Burning, human heat, and it's awful because Tim can feel his knot, just outside his cunt, rubbing against his pussy, and logical thought sobs no even as every other part of him weeps for relief.

It's too big, if Jason shoves his knot in now, he tries to convince himself, tries to think, but his mind feels like it's melting in pleasure and he's drooling on the mattress.

----(need more juice pt2)

The slick sound of his cum gets louder in his ears, and Tim whimpers as the edge of his heat gets more prevalent, thoughts dripping slow and unpleasant. He's cum three times now, but his Alpha- but Jason hasn't yet popped a knot, and the scent in the air reflects that. It means something's wrong. That Tim's not- he's bad, he's not working right- and Jason said he could be replaced, and why wouldn't he, if Tim couldn't get him off, couldn't make him knot, does he even deserve-

Jason strokes across his oversensitive clit and Tim squirms with a bitten-off shriek, jerking against his hold to try and escape the ever-present touches. "S'sto-p-," he whimpers, the words slurred from between his teeth, "J'son, st'p-"

"You don't wanna get me off?" Jason asks, and Tim's stomach drops. Oh god, was he really stopping Jason's knot, by protesting? By not squeezing him well enough, that Jason had to make him cum to get him tight?

"P'ls," he whimpers, the words caught tight on a sob. "J'son-"

"What're you begging for, pretty O," Jason whispers, dragging Tim up into his lap, his arm a band around Tim's stomach. The firm hold makes Tim squirm again, crying as he notices again that Jason's cock is filling him up, as the press of Jason's arm makes it more obvious there's a cock filling his insides.

[bludrogue]

These are a bunch of random headcanons I have about Jason Todd

I have a couple of headcanons about Jason, and I'll add onto them eventually down the line. But here's one or two I think about.

As someone who started working out to build muscle -- and has medical issues, specifically arthritis and fainting issues -- I'm gradually realizing how much slower my pace is compared to a typical person. With that said, here's my first head canon based on my own experiences (I guess I'm self projecting, but idk):

Headcanon #1: Day One Training Gone Wrong

-- The first time Jason ever had Robin training steadily went downhill. Not to say Jason isn't active, the kid lived on the streets and could throw a mean punch if he wanted to, but that doesn't mean his stamina is up to par or his strength. Plus, with the malnutrition he probably faced during that time period has also effected his body.

-- Having that said, when Jason began day one of training he didn't necessarily know how his capabilities were when it came to exercising. But he was not willing to confess this to Bruce -- possibly due to the fear of being kicked out if he did not meet the set goals Bruce created for that day. And so, everything Bruce asked him to do, he did.

-- He completed the reps and sets with a smile on his face, claiming "I got it," or "I can do it," no matter how many times Bruce has asked if he was alright or commenting about breaks being important. He doesn't need a break, he's totally got this. Pssht. He can so handle a couple lunges and squats. Triceps? Easy. Rear delts? No problem. Lat pull downs and rows? He'll get it done. He can handle this.

-- Until he can't.

-- As Jason is about to do one final set to an exercise, and Jason did not realize how intense the training was going to be, spots fill his vision, he has the feeling of hot needles prickling his face, an odd metallic taste on his tongue (this happens to me, idk why), and his ears starting brutally ringing.

-- The last thing he sees before passing out is Bruce rushing over to him and he hears him calling out his name.

-- Jason wakes up with his back on the cave's floor, and his feet elevated. With his shoes off -- which Jason finds the most peculiar out of everything. Then he discovers Bruce sitting besides him -- thankfully not hovering over him. And Bruce is staring at him with his usual stone cold expression that he can't depict what expression means. If Bruce is pissed at him for fucking up or for failing to meet the exercises.

-- Jason internally panics the moment his eyes land on Bruce. He believes that this is it, he fucked up his one chance at having a home and now he's going to be kicked out for good. He tells himself to play it cool, as if nothing happened. He jokes about how the weather is up there for Bruce or about taking an accidental nap on the floor distract Bruce from getting to the 'This is no longer working, I'm taking back Robin and I'm putting you in an orphanage' talk.

-- Instead, the question Bruce asks next is not what Jason expected at all. Bruce asks about his well being. If he's feeling alright? This is an honest shock to Jason because he's not used to anyone asking if he's alright. Catherine was too trapped in her own world thanks to drugs and Willis would bark at him to walk of any sort of injury. Even on the streets, drug dealers, gang members, and other homeless people didn't give a fuck if you had a fever.

-- So he's not used to anyone asking about his well being.

-- Jason lies, claiming he's fine. To further prove his point, he attempts to sit up, but Bruce stops him from doing so. Bruce orders Jason to lie back down -- which even under the minimal lucidity he has Jason still tenses at the thought -- to which Bruce then explains that his face is still pale and his lips are still white. Adding, that once his face gains a bit of color it will be safer for him to sit up right again.

-- Jason huffs a "Whatever," and lies back down on the ground. He won't admit Bruce right, he refuses to, but sitting up? Terrible idea right now. Then he hears the click of a cap, and a water bottle in his view. Bruce orders him to open his mouth, this way he can give him some water.

-- With no energy to argue, Jason obliges with the order and does as told. The water is an utter relief the moment it hits his tongue. Jason appreciates the kindness, but he's still waiting for the blow. Maybe this is the softness he receives before reality smacks him hard in the face. He's still wary about Bruce kicking him out, and this could just be him physically preparing him before he's shoved out the front doors. He won't take Bruce's kindness for granted. After all, he's just another orphan poster boy for the rich man.

-- Once Jason is given enough water and the color in his face returns, Bruce assists him to sit up slowly. Then Bruce discusses the importance of the balance between mind, body, and soul, reassuring Jason that taking breaks is not a bad thing. In fact, that he wants Jason to have a healthy relationship with exercising and not to strain himself. He further elaborates by how over exerting yourself can be dangerous (*cough cough* hypocrite *cough cough*) and admits a story of one of the times he went past his limits and the repercussions of doing so.

-- Bruce explains that the reason he tells Jason the story is to remind Jason to take breaks when necessary, and to also listen to his body's needs. Then Bruce stands up from the floor, and holds out a hand to Jason, complementing his abilities to go as far as he did, and suggestions they hang out in the library to relax for a bit.

-- When Bruce offers the library, the puzzle pieces click together and relief settles in his chest. Jason realizes that he's not being kicked out and this is just Bruce... caring? Again, Jason isn't used to any sort of kindness of the sort, but hey, he's not being sent out on to the streets as of this moment which is nice.

-- Instead of giving Bruce an attitude, Jason's lips split into a grin and he nods, taking Bruce's hand as he's helped up from the floor with a cheerful, "Sure thing, boss!" And the two head off to the library to read some books.

-- (I know that Jason was more cheerful and bright as a kid, so I wanted to emphasize on that aspect of his personality. I don't think Jason would question out loud if he's being kicked out only because he's not the type to express negativity like that. Jason is complex, so I'm hoping I got his character right.)

-- (Also, after this, Bruce builds a regiment around Jason's physical capabilities in order to not over extert him. He was used to Dick's stamina that he essentially forgot he was starting from scratch, so he blames himself for causing Jason to pass out during the work out. He plans on working with Jason at a much slower and less intense work out plan, and includes 30 second water breaks after every single set.)

That's one of my headcanons, I'll link here if I have anymore head canons later on! I hope I did well, and please let me know what you think. It's my first time posting so I'll admit I'm a bit nervous.

Anyways, thanks for reading :D

My Other Headcanons:

Headcanon #2

Head canon #3

[broz0neglitters]

I'm not a bad guy Fanfic pt 2 -Floyd

~If you haven't read part one yet, then you should probably read part 1~

Also, I like to go straight into the fanfic, so enjoy <3 also, this will be more on floyd focus since this about him trying to tell his story

Link:

Warning: Cuss words

Days later...

As both Poppy and Viva once again made the five brothers sit in a circle again, and this time, it was floyd turn to explain everything, but Branch knew to be careful not to trust every little thing that floyd said; Branch had to stop trusting every word that floyd was saying ever since the fight that they had the night before about him lying to branch about coming back...

As floyd stood up and stand in the middle as he faced Branch mostly him then clears his throat " Listen here branch I'm not a bad guy so don't treat me bad and I know I fuck up my words, but please don't think I'm absurd, alright?." Floyd said as Branch still had his arm crossed he didn't bother to look at floyd

"You don't know how hard it was being stuck in a diamond prison for two months straight, and I'm physically exhausted and Tired of my knuckles beating while Velvet and Veneer would use me for their frame and personal gain." floyd said

Floyd would just talk to himself to past this time of sadness and wish he could see his brother, especially Branch, whom he had lied to and promised to return, but both Velvet and Veneer were too busy seeking selfish wishes. They Don't care how floyd was feeling

"I would Pretend that everything's alright, but I'm stuck in this diamond prison, which was detention for me." floyd said as he looked at Branch, who still didn't want to hear his excuse, although Branch would believe that it happened to floyd cause he was there to save floyd from the twins...

"The twins don't care about me, Fuck how I feel as long as they make money. They do whatever they want to me 'cause I'm basically chopped meat." Floyd said as Bruce stood up and placed his hands on floyd shoulder, comforting him

"You know, out of all the brothers, John Dory was the one who knew about me. He came to see me. He was the one who brought you guys to come set me free." floyd said looking at John

Fuck, being alone all alone in the diamond prison waiting for Jonh to gather the rest of the brothers to hit the perfect family harmony to set floyd free from his detention from the pop-obsessed fraud twins

As floyd sat back down, Bruce spoke, "Although John was always bossy and bossing us around, he actually kept his promise; he actually cared about us, like how he promised floyd that he would gather all of us to come to save him and how he did indeed came back for branch and us he actually cared." bruce said as the younger brothers all gave john a hug expect floyd who still felt terrible for lying to branch

As Branch looked at floyd, "Out of all the brothers, I thought you would come back for me, and you would never lie, but I guess you lied, and I can't forgive you for that. I can try to talk to you again, but I can't always trust everything you say or tell me; now it is hard. I'm sorry, floyd. I should have seen it coming because you let me drown; you didn't even try to save me." Branch said, giving floyd a light hug and walking away with Poppy following behind him.....

Floyd knew to accept that his baby brother would no longer trust a single word that he said. Floyd wishes he could fix his mistakes, but Branch was right. Floyd did indeed let Branch drown...

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

I'm sorry if part 2 was short, but I think you should read part 1, which is linked. I should start studying for finals anyway. I'll keep you all updated soon. wish me luck heheh

Also, the request will be reopened on May 31st and closed back down on Aug 9th, so don't be disappointed if I don't get to your request. As I mentioned, it takes a while to write them, and although it will still be around summer, I have a summer job and need to get ready for the school year, so please be patient. Thank you <3.

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

Like + Follow are very much appreciated! <3

Part 3 is out now!

[kiseiakhun]

(nsfw)

read on ao3

*

Alright.

Alright, so, the kid is hooking up with Wally. That... makes more sense than it doesn't, actually, considering how they bicker. It was only a matter of time before they jumped each other. Had been jumping each other. Honestly, they're barely keeping it discreet. Probably the only reason Hal hadn't noticed sooner is because he barely spends time on Earth anymore.

He just wishes they weren't proving his suspicions right on his bed. That he sleeps on.

His bed. Not Kyle's, or at least, the bed that Kyle is currently sleeping in, because the kid had somehow gotten it in his head that Hal's spare room is meant for him. "The beds on the watchtower are uncomfortable," he says, every time he has to stay on Earth for more than two days, "and it's not like anyone is staying with you," and "every time I stay with the Titans I get sucked into teenager drama," and "you're the only one with a place on Earth anymore, please please please please please?"

Which is a lie, by the way. Alan still has his mansion, and he knows Bruce keeps a place around for Kyle because he's soft on the kid. And none of it matters, because Hal always says yes. Kyle's right. It's not like anyone is using his spare room, anyway.

"You're such an asshole," he hears Kyle hiss, through the cracked-open door, and then, "ow! Stop biting me!" He really needs to start learning how to say 'no' to Kyle. It's been years, he's made up for the whole Parallax thing, right? Right.

"Then hurry up," Wally insists. "I didn't come to hear you bitch and whine."

"In case you forgot, I didn't ask you to come. You invited yourself." There's the shuffle of bodies, the creak of Hal's ancient bedsprings. Unwittingly, Hal conjures an image of Kyle. And Wally. And their paper-thin uniforms that they create out of nothing. Would they even need to take anything off? Touching Kyle is like touching bare skin.

And that's a dangerous line of thought. No. Nope.

"I came to see Hal, not you," Wally insists. "And speaking of, hurry up, before he comes back."

There's a seconds-long pause.

"Really?" Wally asks.

"Shut up," Kyle replies, sounding flustered.

"Freak." Wally can't be too offended, if the rocking of the bed and Kyle's low moan is any indication. "Of course you'd like that, you shameless exhibitionist."

"Like you're any better." There's the sound of flesh on flesh. Of lips on skin. Hal stares at the sliver of afternoon light spilling through the crack on the door like it holds all the answers. His pants feel tight. Maybe he should start using his front door instead of flying in through the window. John had lectured him enough on the security threat of an always-open window. So had Bruce, but Hal doesn't care about Bruce's opinion. Kyle also insists on the open window, for his oil paintings to dry.

Hal really needs to start saying no to the kid.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asks, sounding strangled.

"Did you leave your brain in space?" Wally's voice is breathy. Hal is rooted in place. "What does it look like I'm doing, dumbass?"

"I am not fucking you today." Kyle's voice is a tight hiss. "We're on Hal's bed!"

"Oh, so you'd grope me on Hal's bed, but you won't fuck me on Hal's bed?"

"I'm not getting lube on his sheets! He doesn't have a washing machine!"

"Unbelievable," Wally says. "When did you get so uptight? Did space turn you into a prude, too? I thought lanterns were supposed to be sluts."

"You're a slut." Kyle sounds aggrieved. "You really can't live without my cock for one day? You're the one who says we should make this qu-ick-"

"I'm always quick." Wally sounds far too smug for someone who just basically admitted he can't last in bed. The wet noises get louder. "And stop being so precious, I know you've jerked off on this bed."

"Fuck," Kyle hisses. "That's different, you a-asshole." His breathing gets heavy. "Me t-touching myself doesn't mean bringing lube-stained sheets to the laundromat."

Hal feels dizzy. Kyle. Touching himself. On Hal's bed.

He should really leave. He should've left ten minutes ago. He should've left as soon as he flew in through the window and heard Wally and Kyle rolling in the sheets, hissing and spitting at each other like cats. The sheets. On his bed. On Hal's bed, that they are on, right now.

Kyle takes too many liberties with Hal's stuff. Kyle waltzes into his life like a little diva and takes Hal's time and his home like he's entitled to it, wheedling and pouting and nagging Hal until he folds to his every request. He sleeps in his bed, leaves crumbs on the couch cushions, and stinks up the apartment with his paints and canvases and half-drunk cups of coffee. Against his will, Hal knows what gesso is, and fixative, and the dangers of tossing oil paint rags in the trash. He keeps pulling sketchbooks out from under tables, and pillows, and under the bed and behind the bookcase and, once, in the spice cabinet, tucked into the furthest corner. It might still be there, actually. Kyle's still here, in his bed, in his life, flitting around like a moth that won't leave.

And now he's fucking Wally in Hal's room. Not the spare bedroom, but Hal's. He's touched himself in that bedroom. And God, Wally. Hal can't think of Wally. He's known Wally since he was a kid, since he was a bright-eyed little rascal looking at Barry like he's the best thing in the world.

This is so, so wrong.

"Stop worrying," Wally tells Kyle, that breathy tone still in his voice, that breathy, aroused voice that Hal shouldn't listen to, he should not be listening to. "No one cares about - hah. About what you do."

"Are you trying to be nice?" Kyle's voice has the same strain to it. "Because if you are, you're, ngh. You're really bad at it."

"I'm not." Wally somehow manages to sound both unimpressed and turned on at once. Hal wonders what they're doing, wonders at their position. From context, Wally's probably on top of Kyle. Is Kyle sitting up, or lying down? Hal imagines it. Imagines Kyle holding Wally's hips, or his ass, fingers denting the jagged red edges of his uniform, ripped open just enough to ease Kyle's cock into him. And Kyle, in the last thing Hal saw him in, wearing Guy's football jersey and a pair of tiny shorts that ride up enough to show the curve of his ass when he bends over-

More rustling. The sound of a body being flipped over.

"Fucking brat," Kyle spits. "I'll make you shut up."

Hal should really leave.

He reaches for his pants. Squeezes his erection. And doesn't move.

[sanguineterrain]

could I request a fic with insomniac!reader and tim? i love your writing im excited to see how you make his character your own! <3

thanks for the request! first time writing tim... kinda nervous like I'm on a first date 🫣 hope you like! this one isn't as mushy gushy as my usual fics (jason) so yeah. also my knowledge of yj is purely through fic 🤙

tim drake x gn!reader. tw insomnia, tim being so awkward but maybe... there are feelings... who can say. tim's character is so interesting to me (probably because I identify with him the most lmao).

****

It's really, really nice of the team to let you stay over tonight. Like, really nice.

You haven't even done much. You're pretty much a nobody in the superhero world, not even a D-list hero. Certainly not anybody that should be hanging out with the likes of Wonder Girl and Superboy and, God, Tim freakin' Drake.

Kon was just overly generous in his cool, brash way, herding you into a spare room after last night's battle. After tonight, you'll politely break away from the team to give them some reprieve. It didn't escape your notice that they didn't hang out last night like they usually do.

You've been awake for an hour now, listening for sounds of life in the corridor. If you were home, you'd already be on the couch watching crappy TV. But you really don't want to run into anyone here.

Maybe you have some chamomile tea leftover from the last time you stayed over. You hadn't stayed the whole night, slipping away without interference as most of the team had gone to their own homes.

You get up, stretching and popping joints. It's always a little cold in the Tower, and it wakes you up as you walk to the kitchen first. You're as quiet as you can be in heating the water and finding the tea.

You take your mug and head to the den. As you enter, you freeze.

Tim turns his head from his place on the couch. The blue light from the TV makes him paler, and his eyes bluer. Sometimes, he looks so much like Bruce Wayne, it startles you.

"Oh," you say, unsure what else to say. Your brain is tired and fried. "I... was just looking for my watch."

That's definitely your dumbest lie. You don't have a watch. Tim sure as fuck knows that.

His eyes flick to your wrist, as if reminding you both how stupid your lie is, then to your mug. He mutes the TV.

You stay where you are. Tim stands, obviously shouldering his own bout of insomnia.

"It's... you can come in," he says, just as awkward as you.

That's comforting. Tim's usually so suave, the few times you've interacted. He's all Gotham Heights, his upbringing never quite sloughing off no matter how many times he's probably tried to blend in and not be so... private school.

"I was just going to bed," he says quickly.

"No, you weren't," you say. You don't mean for it to come out so shrewd. Tim looks a little startled.

"I mean, you don't need to go," you add. "I'll take this to my room. It's fine. Sorry."

"No, I've been here too long anyway. I should work on my case."

Here's the thing. It's not that Tim avoids you because in order to do that, you'd have to see him more than three times a year.

But there's a distance. You've tried not to take it personally, tried to chalk it up to the fact that you're introverted and Kon and Bart are Kon and Bart, and Cassie's too straightforward to beat around the bush, and you've somehow won her over, which is nice.

And Tim is just... cautious. Paranoid.

Those are understatements, and you can't imagine the psychological damage caused by being raised by Batman, but, well, you've seen the previous and current Robins, so you can hazard a guess.

Anyway, Tim kind of acts like an unsocialized cat with you. You once mentioned it to Kon, in nicer words, but he dismissed you, saying, "Whaddya mean? Rob likes you!" Which had assuaged nothing, but whatever.

"I won't be here long," you say, as a last-ditch effort to not make it feel like you're kicking Tim out of his own space. "I just, uh, couldn't sleep."

He watches you in that freaky Bat way, like he's trying to determine if you're a threat or not. Jesus.

"It's hard for me to sleep after a battle," you add, trying to show your belly. That's how it feels, being around Tim Drake. Like you always need to be vulnerable first. Like you're in a battle of wills you didn't know you entered.

He doesn't sit down, but he does say, "Me too."

You nod and drink your cooling tea. "There's more tea in the kitchen if you want. Chamomile."

"I'm... good. Thanks."

You edge over to the armchair diagonal to the couch and sit.

"You can work in here," you say. "Unless, uh, it's too distracting. I'll keep the TV muted."

His laptop is on the other side of the couch. Tim is still, only his eyes moving from you to the laptop.

"I don't wanna push you out," you say.

"It's really fine," he replies immediately.

It's so not fine. This isn't boding well for your insomnia. You're definitely going to be agonizing over this interaction all week.

"I won't bother you," you say.

"I didn't say you would."

Then what's the problem?

Slowly, Tim returns to the couch. You look away, so it doesn't seem like you're watching his every move (you are), nor is Tim clocking your every move (he is).

He settles on the couch and opens his laptop. You drink and try to figure out what's playing on TV. It looks to be a rerun of Columbo. You smile.

"You like Columbo?"

Tim looks spooked that you're still talking to him, but he answers. "Yeah."

"Me too."

You watch Columbo silently look for clues. Tim types, fingers flying over the keyboard. Then his fingers pause.

"I used to watch it with Dick," he says. "When I first became Robin."

You nod, giving him your full attention. "Yeah? He seems like the type."

"He does a pretty good impression of him. He likes detective shows."

"You don't?" you ask.

Tim shrugs. "They're fine. I guess I just hate how predictable they can be."

"Of course the boy genius would say that," you say, smirking.

Instantly, Tim's face turns to stone. He hums, looking back at his laptop. You blink. What happened?

"Sorry. That was a joke," you say.

"I know," Tim says, any trace of warmth gone.

You're startled by the shift. "I don't—I wasn't making fun of you. I mean, you are smart. Really smart."

Tim carefully looks at you. "...Thanks."

You nod clumsily. You should've just stayed in bed.

It's quiet for a long time. You're trying to muster up the confidence to escape to your room when Tim speaks again.

"People have said stuff like that to be facetious. I... reacted without reading your tone."

It's not an apology, but it's probably the closest thing you'll get.

"It's okay," you say.

Tim nods. His shoulders aren't so tense, though his posture is atrocious when he's off-duty.

He gets up and gives you the remote. You take it, smile small. Tim retreats.

"You can unmute it if you want. I don't mind."

So you do, and you and Tim spend the next hour half-watching Columbo and half-watching each other. Eventually, your tea finishes, and the episode ends, so you get up.

"I think I'll try and sleep," you say.

Tim nods. "Good luck."

You hum. "Thanks. Good luck with the case."

"Yeah. Thanks."

You wash the mug and leave it on the dish rack. Then you escape back to your room. You really do feel like you could sleep again. Maybe Columbo reruns are the magic ingredient to a good night's sleep.

[phantoms-lair]

Batman Exalted Triple Event - Part 2

"He did WHAT!" Nightwing snarled. He put on a smile so often that people around him, even his own family, forgot just how much rage his body held. And how dangerous it was when it got out. The anger inside him felt like an explosion. Like it was tearing out all around him through his skin, desperate to strike down the man who'd dared harm his family.

"Greyson calm down." Damian said in a tone that most would hear as commanding but he heard as a plea.

Normally that would be enough for Dick to at least hide his rage, but not today. Not when someone just tried to not only kill his brother, but to have erased him from ever existing. "I will not calm down! That bastard-"

"You're hurting us."

Tim's comment was enough to at least draw Dick's attention. A strong wind was ripping around the cave blowing their hair and capes. Tim was half standing between Dick and Damian, as if shielding him. There were several slashes in Red Robin's costume and thin cuts on his exposed skin.

The injuries were minor, but Dick knew how much it took to cut through the Robin gear and that Tim's skin was now much harder to cut than a human's. If that had hit Damian instead-

Dick felt himself start to panic and the wind respond to his emotions. No longer a cutting force but a gale pushing out everything around him. "I - oh fuck. Oracle keep us informed. I've got to deal with this."

He cut the comm without waiting for the response. He'd make it up to Babs later.

"Calm down." Damian said again.

"I can't. I hurt you" Dick felt hysterical. Tim was bleeding because of him. Damian would have been hurt worse. He'd almost done something horrible just because he was blinded by anger and-

"Exalting is a lot at once. I remember." Tim said in a slow steady voice.

Exalting. It clicked. That's what was happening to him, That's why he could control the winds the way Bruce could feel Gotham. It was his turn to recieve power from the man who'd tried to erase Jason and the first thing he'd done with it was attack his brothers!

"You seem to be Air Aspect so some deep breathing would probably actually help." Tim continued. "It's like anything else, control comes with time, you just need to work at it."

"Your Exaltation didn't come with razor winds that hurt your family." Dick said bitterly.

"No it came with armor rending talons and me in a position where I really wanted to use them. And did. You remember the state of Mr. Freeze's suit. If I'd been pushing a little harder..." He would have disembowled Freeze. "You had to chase me down because of how hard I'd panicked after it happened."

"In your defense you didn't exactly know why you'd suddenly had talons or turned into a bird." Dick reminded him, a fragile smile on his face.

Victory.

"Clearly it was your inexperience with bladed weapons that caused such a blunder. I would have no such difficulty." Damian sniffed.

"Wait till it's your turn." Tim warned. "The point is this was hard for Bruce to get a handle on, hard for me to get a handle on, and hard for you too. And it's going to be hard on Damian, Cass, Duke, and anyone else."

"But each exaltation is a step closer to Ketchup's ultimate defeat." Damian reminded them. "This power is the winds of revenge."

Dick wanted to say he didn't want this, he didn't want revenge. But it would be a lie. He really really wanted wanted to use every ounce of this power to put Ketchup in his place.

~~~~

There was power in the air on the other side of the portal. Bruce could feel it with every breath, strengthening him. But that wasn't important. All that mattered was Jason's quiet whimpering, which broke his heart but at least let him know his son was still hanging on.

A strange man appeared. He appeared to be made of porcelain, with ribbons of an iridescent metal running through him, and a large gem in his forehead. "Our time runs short. Hand him over."

It was the last thing Bruce wanted to do. But he couldn't doom Jason by clinging to him. The man laid his son out on a table and Bruce could feel the magic in the air as he performed his ritual. And then with one last gesture Jason went stiff and vanished.

"No." Bruce fell to his knees, all strength leaving him. "Jaylad....you said you could save him."

"And he is saved." the man said simply.

"Don't lie to me!" Bruce roared and he felt his power rise up, the emptiness inside him filling with rage.

"What Kejack had planned was not as gentle as mere death. He intended to erase him from fate. To prevent him from ever existing. If my interventions hadn't worked, you would not have been able to speak him name or mourn him. You would never have known he even existed. His vessel was tied to Fate, It could not be salvaged." The man twisted his hand, revealing a glimmering red gem. "So I have crafted him a new one."

He pulled aside a curtain Bruce hadn't noticed, behind which looked to be some kind of automaton made of a black metal and clay. He placed the gem in a socket on the automaton's head and it sparked to life, the blank clay face shifting into Jason's.

"What happened to me?" Jason looked between Bruce and the strange man, completely lost.

"For the second time you are welcomed back into life," The strange man bowed.

"Back to life? As what?" Jason took in his arms made of metal and porcelain. "You think you can just fuck around with my existence-?"

"You were not in a position to ask. Now you are. The metaphorical glue is not yet dry. Do you wish me to undo what I have done? To return you to literal non-existence? Gone from this and any world, along with any and all memory of you." Bruce made a strangled sound. "Or would you prefer to exist and make of that what you will?"

Jason growled. "Exist."

"Very well. Would either of you like some tea? I am sure both of you want explanations."

"Can I even drink tea?" Jason asked, gesturing to his artificial body.

"Autochthon made sure his champions could enjoy all pleasures of the flesh. Good food, drink, recreational drugs, intimate companionship. Actual reproduction is another matter, but there's sorcery for that." The man shrugged. "Your tastebuds and ability to consume should be largely, if not entirely unchanged. So yes, you can drink tea." The man sat down and poured tea into four small ceramic cups, including one for the spider, whom Bruce had all but forgotten about. "I am Armaneth, Starmetal Caste."

"Caste. You're exalted?" Bruce observed.

"Save my small friend here, we all are. Bruce Wayne, Exigent of Gotham and Jason Todd, Soulsteel Caste."

"I'm not.. Soulsteel?" Jason had a hard time processing so much in the last few seconds. He almost missed his familiar anger. It was there, but no where as intense as it had been and that concerned him further.

"Autochthon created Exaltation. And rarely does an inventor develop a single way to do things. The design finalized for expedience was exaltation as you know it. A shard of divine essence that joins with a human and empowers both their soul and body. One of the other methods he developed was the Alchemical Exalts. For us, new bodies were hand crafted for each individual and upon death our souls implanted in them." Armaneth gestured to the gem in his head and took a sip of his tea. "The Soulsteel caste are bringers of justice and protectors of their community. If someone threatens harm to their community they will stop at nothing to protect it and make an example of the threat. It seemed the most fitting."

"You've clearly put a lot of thought into this." Bruce said tightly. "Not to mention time and effort."

"A good deal of work, perhaps, but well worth it. A less than ideal body would have been a hinderance after all. I also made sure the charms installed would also be well suited. It was best in aid of the Storyteller's plan." their host said simply.

Bruce cocked his head. "You're an ally of Quill?"

Armaneth thought a moment. "I would say so. She would not."

"She disapproves of you?" Bruce pressed.

"She doesn't know I exist." Another sip of tea. "Kejack, the man you refer to as Ketchup." he wrinkled his nose. "Has made many, many enemies. Myself included. There are several plans in place to remove him from play, but he is powerful and wary. Any would be next to impossible to enact- unless he badly overextends himself."

"Should the Storyteller's plan to cease his Gotham expansion fail, that would put him is such a state. But the Storyteller is new, to this world, to her power, to political struggles. The odds she could make a misstep is high and should she go down it would not be hard for Kejack to discover any who openly aided her. Organizations operate in cells for a reason."

Bruce took a sip of his tea to swallow bitter words. Quill had lost everything and this man and his allies had stood back to profit on her plan, but never let her know she wasn't alone. "Why Jason? Ketchup wants me to be his puppet figurehead so he should be at least attempting to curry favor, not assassinate my son."

"You would never have known Kejack had removed your son, had he succeeded. He would never had existed to become your son in the first place. And as to why, Jason was dangerous to him."

"My impression of Ketchup is that finding a 'mortal' dangerous would be beneath him." Bruce pointed out.

"But Jason by that point was not merely a mortal. Kejack operates by fate, whether viewing it or altering it. Anything outside of fate is essentially a blind spot for him. And there are three types of beings outside side. Raksha, Demons, and the Dead."

Jason discovered he could still feel hair prickle on the back of his neck. "Then it's because I died-"

"When you met your fate, your fate ended. Thus even when you came back you were outside it. He could not foresee what you would do. He could not manipulate your destiny. Kejack does not abide what he cannot control. That you had the ear and affection of his chosen cat's paw made it worse. You were a variable that had to be removed. Yet if he merely killed you, the Exigent of Gotham would have known and his wrath would be unceasing. He could not kill you, nor could he alter your fate after it ended. But he could pull the thread from before it's end. There is, perhaps, a small chance of you becoming a Gentimian in the process, but it was the best chance of removing you while not enraging The Exigent of Gotham, as he would not even remember he had ever known or loved you. Except, of course, for me." Armaneth gave a small self-satisfied smile.

The spider chittered. "Their hearthmates approach the Soulsteel's nest."

"We would not want to worry your family unduly. Three is by far enough for one night. I have prepared as care package to take with you." He produced what looked like several Fabergé eggs. "The Storyteller will know how to open them. The pattern spider can lead you home"

"Thank you for your generosity." Bruce said stiffly. He put a hand on Jason's shoulder and lead him away. Bruce found himself once again in Jason's bedroom in Crime Alley. A quick check of his power revealed no one had followed them and there were no trackers on the eggs. Good. He grabbed at Jason, startling his son before he realized in was an embrace not an attack.

"You okay, old man?"

"No. You were attacked, you were hurt. I almost lost you and if it weren't for that bastard I would have. All this power I have now and it meant all of nothing."

Jason wasn't good with Bruce being emotional. And he did not want to think about the fact that he'd almost ceased to exist and consequently that his body was even less human than the other Exalts. So he focus on the one part of that which wasn't about any of those things. "You seem awfully negative about the guy you just admitted in the only reason I'm still alive."

Bruce took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm him down, the air hissing as it escaped his lungs. "Jaylad, he custom built that body for you. It must have taken months, if not years. And that means all that was time he knew what Ketchup was going to do to you. And he made no move to forewarn us or stop it. He let it happen because...because you were more useful to him as an Exalt than as a baseline human."

Jason felt his stomach drop out as clues suddenly clicked into place. "The Storyteller, the Exigent of Gotham, he never called people by names, even when he knew them all. He didn't see us outside of our roles."

"He manipulates situations and doesn't see people as more than boons or roadblocks to his objectives. That's why Quill would never have trusted him. He thinks and operates like Ketchup."

"Fuck." Jason swore. "Another second chance at life, another bond to a psycho."

"No, listen to me." Bruce held his face to force Jason to look him in the eye. "You are alive right now and you get to decide what that means. Not Ra's. Not Amarenth. Not me. If you want to skip town with the Outlaws until this is done, I will set you up with a place and new identity. If you want to fight, we'll stand alongside you. Your life is yours and no one else's."

"I'm not running." If there was one thing Jason was sure of, it was that. He wanted his piece of Ketchup too. "And at least Amarenth just resurrected me and kicked me out. None of the stuff Talia did."

"What did she-" Bruce froze, the blood draining from his face and his pupils shrinking. "I'll kill her." He half whispered.

"B?" That did not sound...hypothetical. Which was all sorts of concerning considering who it came from.

"What she did to you...unforgivable...you were a child."

Bruce had seen something with his power from the time he was with the League. Could he see things outside of Gotham now? Or was it because it was tied to Jason who was currently in Gotham? "I was like seventeen." Jason tried to protest. "Hardly a child."

"It's still statutory." The color was returning to Bruce's face, the ashy white turning to crimson in rage.

Statutory? Oh. That. Before he could say anything (and what could he say?) the door to his bedroom burst open with literal hurricane force as Dick launched himself at his oldest brother. "You're okay!" he yelled, wrapping both his arms and legs around Jason.

"The flying fuck?" Jason asked at the storm that was blowing around his room.

"Babs said Ketchup tried to run a wiper virus on you, then you and Bruce vanished and she couldn't find you, then she said you and Bruce would be back and your place so we came as fast as we could and-"

"Just hug him back so we can breath," Damian grumped. "And Dick exalted as an Air Aspect in case it wasn't obvious." Tim added.

Three is by far enough for one night. Him, Dick, and someone else.

"Barbra." Bruce whispered, his face approaching a more natural color.

"What about Bab?" Dick asked, confused.

"Armaneth said three was enough for one night. The Exaltations, You, Jason, and Barbra."

"How did...right, Gotham sense." Tim shook his head. "So where were you guys?" "Why don't you tell them all about it back at the cave?" Jason suggested, trying to wriggle out of Dick's hug. "Don't you mean 'we'?" Bruce asked with desperation in his voice.

"Not tonight. I need to process all this and I need to do it without everyone in my space."

"He's right. And it's not like you won't know if something happens again. Let's give him some space, and Jason don't feel bad for needing time to adjust."

"Wasn't planning on it, but okay." Jason managed to pry hurricane Dick off him and held him at arms length. "Go on, see if Babs needs help."

He wasn't naïve enough to hope Bruce would just forget what he'd just learned, but he was done with things for the night. Jason Out.

[dhampiravidi]

here's my favorite HCs for Jason Todd

6'2" = 1.8796 m (apparently). in other words, he IS just the teeniest bit TALLER than Bruce Wayne, his dad. & it's even better when they're both in costume, because his boots add a teeny bit MORE (ofc it's offset by Bruce's Batman boots, but stfu). he's a big boy who Alfred insists is "still growing" & therefore he deserves lots of food. specifically, bread, which he's always had a fondness for. that, hot dogs & spicy noodles (pad thai, Nona's* spaghetti, Alfred's secret recipe chicken noodle soup)!!

he's half Latino & half Italian. yes, I know that "Todd" & "Haywood" are names of English origin. I am aware. & I don't care. he speaks Spanish as a second language & Italian as a speaking-only third (since some of the families in the neighborhood know some Italian). yeah, he was born with auburn (reddish-brown) hair, but he dyes it black. no one knows why & no one asks. and ofc there's the white streak, which almost magically pops back up every time he tries to dye it.

his eyes were more blue, maybe a glassy hazel when he was Robin. after the Pit, dark green leaked into his irises, even more so when he gets incredibly angry/upset.

his butt is toned, duh, but his thighs and pecs are the stuff of legend. he just naturally has a broader chest and thicc thighs (that can crush watermelons--and they will, if you're close with him and you ask nicely, promising a gift of cookies or cuddles in return). he's actually kind of self-conscious about his thighs, because they're so big.

he's always had a soft spot for innocent creatures, to the point where he's unfazed that they're attracted to his presence. strays try to follow him home when he patrols, to the point where he keeps a bag of cat food in each of his hideouts. one, out of the many reasons why he has a motorcycle is to outrun the strays. when he visits Selina, he plans to stay for at least two hours because they're all gonna lie on him, and who is he to move?? also, babies calm down as soon as he makes noise (speaking normally, singing a lullaby, goo-go-gah lingo, etc.).

he's pansexual, but demisexual and demiromantic. I mean, the guy had a rough childhood home, he was ratted out by his biological mom, and he still has issues with most of his family. ironically, he tends to put his heart into everything he sees as worth doing, even when that comes to people he doesn't know. that's why he takes being a vigilante so seriously. he wants other Gothamites to have a better city than he had growing up, even if it'll never be free of crime.

you bet your ass he likes the classics, namely The Prince, Hamlet, some Jane Austen, and The Catcher in the Rye. do not ask him if he has read Moby Dick or Ulysses. he has (at least, partially) and he hates them both.

he respects women, and with the exception of Alfred, he tends to prefer them to men when it comes to working and doing platonic activities. is being a BIG Wonder Woman fan related to this? no. but he is one.

he saw Barbie. he read about Oppenheimer before the movie came out, and he wasn't amused.

Jason can't do horror movies, especially ones like Saw, or anything that has to do with psychological scares or torturing characters. considering how he died, plus the times he's been hit with fear gas...yeah, he'd much rather watch some action-suspense, a good book adaptation (he gets so fucking unhinged when they don't follow the books), or a witty historical romance.

he actually respects all of his siblings for the most part, and he'll help them with whatever if it's serious. he just feels uncomfortable regularly associating with them because they still have some kind of allegiance to Bruce, who he refuses to treat as a superior/leader of his. he and Bruce do talk one-on-one when Alfred guilts him into coming home for a meal, or when the world's almost ended (for the 59,211,948th time) and they want to say "I'm glad you're not dead" without really saying it. he loves Bruce but he doesn't fully trust him with his heart, if that makes sense.

he mentally separates the Gotham Rogues into those he'll let off with a warning, and those who are scum. the first kind only gets confronted and fought if they're actually hurting people (physically or socioemotionally).

yes, he still uses guns and knives.

[hellsbellssinclub]

Her sisters arrive one after the other, she can't tell if it's a fast process or a slow one. At one point she was here alone, emptiness and cold, only sharp claws made of her own claws and the pain that was going away too quickly, the blood stopped being bright smoothly and her only entertainment was watching it. Bird was the first, so fierce and sweet, all pale skin and disheveled black hair, her reddened face was the sweetest and roundest she had ever seen. Despite a slight fright, Bird accepted her quickly, she compared their hair, skin tone, claws that came out of their skin between their thin fingers, "Mine" was said hoarsely and intermittently, most likely it was the first articulate thing she brought said.

She hugged her, all softness and warmth, and decided that no matter what, the bird would remain her most beloved. Lille was the second, quiet and very smart, with books and beds for them, paper and something bright in color made of tiny thin wood: "reading and drawing in the quality of daily leisure at their age range is enough." They were reading. And they painted. Something they remembered from memories that didn't seem to belong to them. And they didn't understand how they knew the letters, because no one had ever taught them - there was only green liquid and this room. Damian was the only boy, his skin was golden brown in contrast to their whiteness, and his sparse hair was the color of the meat cutlets they were given for lunch. And it's tiny. Very very Tiny. Defenseless. Couldn't stand, couldn't sit, could only lie down and sometimes cry. Baby.

She held him, a tiny lump of a bunch of tiny tissues and soft limbs, hugging him to her and instinctively made quiet soothing sounds strange to herself. But Damian liked it. Then there were loud strange noises, a lot of red that slowly faded and she was no longer interested. And the one who called himself the father. The one who said that he can only give them freedom. Someone who is not good but can find someone good. He had black hair and eyes like all of them, and his skin reminded her of Damian, she felt him as close as her sisters, she believed him and took his hand. Her sisters did the same, Damian was gently tied to him with a long cloth. He was a father and she regretted that she and her sisters, too tiny Damian, would lose him very soon. Her father gave her a name, a beautiful name that was the best sound in the world and which her father pronounced with such strange deep feelings - Itsuko.

AU in which the Batboys, except Damian, he is still a boy, these are girls, Akihiro's genetic children who were born as part of the Weapon X restoration project sponsored by Lex Luthor. Akihiro rescues them and is about to give them into the care of Batman. Akihiro calls the eldest (Fem!Dick) in honor of his mother and adds the ending "Ko", which means child in Japanese, thereby saying: "you are my child and I love you."

Motherfucking yesss to all of this!

I want to know more. MORE I SAY!

Lex starting up a new Weapon X program with using Akihiro's DNA instead? Aki giving the batkids to Bruce? Are the Bat kids also Bruce's kids? Is that why? What is happening? Where is my many many chapters of plot? You must continue this! I need to knowwww

Fuck do the kids inherit the Wolverine Gene? Are we looking at the Sisters situation where only one is a mutant? Akihiro named them and then he LEAVES THEM? Why? You must tell me!

I must see more of this. If you post up this story on AO3 I demand you tag me so I can read this brain genius you have made