#yeah jason was a sweetheart as a kid but he knows how to shatter someone’s self-esteem with a few words

[undertheredhood]

pre-death jason anytime bruce is being annoying: the way you’re currently behaving is the reason why nightwing left you

[ragingbookdragon]

So Live A Lie, Just Tonight, And Burn Out Bright

Batsis x Hal Jordan One-Shot

Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: I decided to compile that one Batsis "story" into one doc, and I added the alternate ending for the one anon who asked! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Alright, easy sis, easy,” he worried, watching her carefully for signs of pain flickering across her face as he helped her off the bike.

She scowled, managing to drag her injured leg forward. “Quit nagging. I’m—ngh—fine.”

“You’re on emergency oxycodone and you’ve got a broken femur,” he retorted. “I’m nagging until you’re in surgery.”

“Ugh, stop reminding me.”

Someone hauled her off her feet with a quiet, “I’ve got you.”

She grunted in pain laying on the gurney. “Thanks, dad.”

“Miss Wayne, are you alright?”

Her eyes found Alfred’s. “I’m good. I just ne—motherfucker!” she yelped, glaring at her father who was squeezing her thigh. “Hey! That’s broken, jackass! Quit!”

Bruce grunted. “You need an ORIF now.”

A pinch in her arm made her twitch and she turned her attention to Alfred who was uncapping a needle. “Alfred, what’s that?”

He shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Miss Wayne.” Smiling, he stuck the needle into the line. “You’ll feel better when you awaken.”

Her vision blurred rapidly, “Gonna take…a nap…now…” her head lolled, and Bruce met Alfred’s gaze.

“Call Damian. He’s got the steady hand we’ll need.”

***

“How’re you feeling?” Jason asked, setting a cup of juice on the bedside table.

She blinked slowly, staring at her fingers. “Why are my fingers like this?”

“Like what, Queenie?”

“Bendy,” she replied, flexing her fingers. “It’s fuckin’ weird.” She looked at him. “I feel weird.”

He snorted, nodding at Dick and the others who were walking in at the sound of her voice. “You’re on hydromorphone, sis.”

“Hydro—what-what?”

“Hydromorphone, sister,” Damian said. “It has increased your threshold for pain and reduced the perception of it.”

She stared at him like she hadn’t heard a word come out of his mouth. “I didn’t understand a single goddamn word that you just said.”

Snickers sounded around her, but her head was up in the clouds and she rested back against her pillow. Her family gathered around her, sitting up on the bed, and suddenly she cocked her head up, squinting at each of them.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Bruce inquired.

“Where’s Dick?”

“I’m right here, sis,” he answered, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “What’s up?”

“Why’d you break up with Kori?”

His eyes widened. “I—what?”

“Kori. Tall alien with the shooty-hands.”

“I know who she is. What about our breakup?”

“Are you kidding me? That woman is spectacular, and you broke up with her. She’s gorgeous, wicked intelligent, fantastic in bed and—”

“Wait, back up there,” he interrupted. “Good in bed? Did you sleep with, Kori?”

“Oh yeah, totally. I was her rebound after you.”

Dick blinked while the others cackled. “Have you…have you slept with any other exes?”

“Of yours? Or in general with the family’s exes?”

“Wait,” Jason said. “Have you slept with any of mine?”

“Did you date Artemis?”

He shrugged. “Sort of?”

“Then, yes.” She looked at Bruce. “I slept with Selina too, but to be completely honest we were both drunk and I don’t think either of us remember.”

“I uh—” he started, then quieted. “I didn’t know you were gay, sweetheart.”

She let out a ‘pfft’. “I’m not.”

“Oh, you’re bi, then?” Dick smiled and she shook her head.

“Nah, I like the wine but not the label.” She grinned. “I’m a lover of people.”

“How many superheroes have you slept with?” Tim questioned and she pursed her lips.

“Uh…I dunno…kinda lost count.”

For a moment no one said a word, then Jason asked, “You know how we call Dickhead the fuck-boy? Can we refer to you as that now? I think you’ve topped his count.”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare and she pointed at him, though she was seeing double, so it was entirely possible that she was pointing at the wall. “Keep that up and I’ll sleep with your best friend again.”

“You slept with Roy?!”

“I was talking about Kyle, but Roy works too.”

“OH MY GOD! IS THERE ANYONE YOU HAVEN’T SLEPT WITH?”

She thought for a moment, then offered, “Diana. But I asked her out last weekend so it’s up in the air until our date.”

***Part Two***

There was only one rule that everyone collectively followed in Wayne Manor and that was: no excessive noise until after twelve P.M. It was mostly influenced by Alfred who’d more than once pulled out the shotgun but surprisingly, mornings were usually calm and quiet. Keywords: “Were” and “Usually”. There were some special cases.

An ear-splitting scream shattered the silence of the breakfast room and in an instant, everyone was jumping from the table, sprinting towards the staircase to find out what was quite possibly murdering their eldest sister. As they neared the staircase, they came face to face with her as she stood behind the banister, her hands gripping the railing until her knuckles started whitening.

“Sis, what’s wrong?” Dick worried, already starting to come up the steps, Jason and Tim close behind.

“I’m late,” she whispered, and they leaned forward.

“What was that?” Bruce inquired, brows furrowing, and she looked at him.

“I’m late.” Her voice was firmer this time.

He blinked. “How long?”

“Two months.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Jason questioned, shaking his head and she scowled.

“My period’s late, jackass.”

She wished she’d taken a photo of their faces, because nothing would ever amuse her as much as the way their jaws went slack, eyes widening in total shock. Running a hand down her face, she groaned, “Oh my God. I knew something was up. I completely forgot about it.”

“Sooooo…” Tim drawled out with a recovered grin. “Who’s the daddy?”

Her eyes narrowed and she shot him a glare. “Shut. Up.”

“C’mon sis, someone—some guy did it for you.” Jason quipped. “Who’s the lucky man?” he paused, seeming to remember something. “How many superheroes have you slept with in two months? That have dicks, of course.” She clenched her jaw and his eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no…is it, Roy?”

“It’s not Roy!” she hissed.

“Kyle?” Dick offered and she shook her head.

“No. I’ve only slept with one guy in the past two months.”

“Who was it sister?” Damian quizzed, placing his hands on his hips. “I have yet to meet anyone acceptable for you to populate with.”

“Thanks Damian,” she griped, then groaned. “Oh God, I know who it is too. And I wish I didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

Her eyes found Tim’s. “Because we were drunk as hell after a League mission.”

“Who is it?” Bruce grunted and she met his gaze.

“You’re not going to like it.”

Something passed between them, and his eyes narrowed. “Please don’t say that’s who you slept with.”

She nodded, pressing a hand to her face, hiding her embarrassment. “Mhm.”

“You slept with him?”

“Unfortunately.”

Jason looked between his sister and father. “Wait, I’m confused. What’s going on?” A snort sounded beside him, and he looked over, seeing Dick in tears. “Why are you crying? What’s so funny?”

Dick cackled. “SHE SLEPT WITH HAL JORDAN!”

Another round of slack jawed brothers appeared in her sight, and she hissed. “It was an accident!”

“YOU’RE HAVING A BABY WITH HAL JORDAN!” Dick gasped, starting to drop to his knees from laughing so hard. “OH MY GOD, YOU SLEPT WITH THE GUY DAD HATES THE MOST!”

“You slept with Hal Jordan?” Tim gagged. “Ew.”

“Sister, I am disgusted in your choice of partners for children.” Damian noted and she scowled.

“I hate all of you.” she looked at Bruce.

He sighed heavily, a defeated father…or maybe a defeated grandfather. “I’ll go call Hal…and order prenatal vitamins.”

She ran a hand down her face. “I’ll call Leslie and get in for an exam.”

“Holy shit,” Jason gasped. “We’re gonna be uncles!”

***Part Three***

He shifted the phone to rest between his ear and shoulder, hands busy pouring coffee into his cup. “Hello?”

What are you doing right now?

“Bruce? Is that you?”

Answer the question, Hal.

He rolled his eyes and frowned. “Well, it’s nine A.M., I’m making a cup of coffee. I know bats are nocturnal, so this might come as a surprise to someone like you, but rest assured it’s a normal habit for us normal folks.”

How fast can you get to Gotham City?

“Willingly?” Hal chuckled, setting down the coffee pot to grab the phone. “What’s going on?”

I need your…help…with something. And I need you in Gotham as fast as you can get here…please.

He almost dropped both the phone and coffee mug. “Did you just say you need my he—” the line went dead with a click, and he pulled the phone from his ear. “Asshole,” Hal scowled and shoved the phone in his pocket, before putting the mug down. His body flashed green as he suited up and he sighed. “Can’t believe I gotta go to the land of the living dead at nine A.M.”

***

He rubbed his temples as he disconnected the call, barely suppressing the sigh that wanted to escape him. “Are you mad at me?” he heard behind him, low, scared, and worried; he shook his head.

“No.”

She leaned against the desk, staring down at the side of his head. “Are you disappointed in me?”

Bruce sighed this time. “At your basic lack of common sense and sleeping with a team member despite the fact that I’ve told you time and again that inner-team-dalliances only end badly? Yes.” He turned his eyes to her. “But for being pregnant? Never.”

“Doesn’t seem like it, dad,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest; he watched them lower to hold her stomach.

“I think Hal Jordan’s an idiot,” he stated. “If it seems like I’m upset, it’s because he’s going to be my grandchild’s father and I’ll have to be nice to him now.” She huffed a laugh and he reached over, placing a hand on her arm. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. We’ll take care of this.”

“I know, it’s just…” she sighed. “I never expected this to happen.”

“No one ever does,” Bruce answered. “Have you contacted Leslie yet?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go see her around three.” Grunting, she muttered, “Figured if Hal got here in as soon as possible, we’d have enough time to sit and talk about this before we went.” She ran a hand over her face. “God, I can’t believe I Hal knocked me up.”

“Please don’t say that,” Bruce griped. “I don’t like that phrase.”

“But that’s what happened, dad. I got knocked up by Hal.”

“Why do you hate me?” he scowled, dropping his head into his hands. “How did this even happen?”

Sighing, she recounted, “After the mission in Brazil, Hal invited Barry back to Coast City for a drink and Barry invited me.” She shrugged. “I didn’t wanna be rude even if I am typically antisocial, so I accepted, and we got there and found a bar. After a couple hours, Barry had to get back to Central and we just decided to keep drinking.”

She grunted. “Hell, by seven thirty we were already gone so we got a ride back to his place and he offered to let me stay the night and one thing led to another and—”

Bruce raised his hand, effectively silencing her. “I can infer what happened after that.” He rubbed his temples. “Let’s just wait for Hal to get here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, falling silent.

***

Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Jordan, is here, sir.” They both looked up from the Batcomputer at the test pilot.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said, and the butler nodded, ascending the steps.

Hal walked towards them. “So, what’s the deal? Why do you need me?”

Bruce looked at her and she sighed. “Actually, I’m the one who needed you to come here, Hal.”

His brown eyes darted to hers, a flash, a recognition of something and he nodded. “Aright. What’s up?”

“Dad…give us a moment?” he nodded and stood from the Batcomputer, walking to the medical section on the other side of the cave. She waved Hal over. “You might wanna sit down.”

He did, albeit suspiciously. “Why are you acting so…weird?”

“Hal,” she said, then looked at her hands. “I’m…ah crap.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowing.

She took a deep breath and admitted, “My period’s late and there’s a good chance I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Hal didn’t say a word, then he burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s hilarious!” he held his stomach and wiped his eyes. “That’s a good one.”

“I’m not joking, Hal,” she spat. “In the last three months, you’re the only man I’ve had sex with. If I’m pregnant, you’re the father.”

He stopped laughing at that. “Are you being serious?”

“Dead.”

Hal ran a hand through his brown hair and let out a shocked breath. “Holy hell.” She watched him and he gaped at her. “W-what…what do we do?”

“I’ve got an appointment with Doctor Leslie at four. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.” Swallowing thickly, he said, “Does he know?”

“Dad? Yeah. They all do.”

“They?” he repeated, eyes wide.

“My brothers.”

“You told them we slept together?”

She chuckled. “Apparently a year ago under heavy meds, I admitted I slept with Dad, Dick, and Jason’s exes.” She shrugged. “There’s not much I keep from them.”

Hal’s eyes shifted to Bruce’s back. “Can’t imagine the Big-Bat is happy about this.”

“Oh, he’s not. He thinks you’re an idiot, but judging by the look on your face, you already know that.”

He scoffed. “Your dad likes to think he’s smarter than everyone else.”

She cocked a brow. “He is.”

“And it seems like you’re following that strain well,” he shot back, and they glared at each other before cracking smiles.

“If this is real, we’re going to be some parents, huh?”

Hal could sense the fear in her voice, and he stood in front of her, placing his hands on her hips. “Hey,” he murmured. “No parents are perfect. And we’re sure as hell not.”

“If this is supposed to cheer me up, it’s not.”

“I’m not trying to cheer you up. I’m trying to reassure you,” he corrected, squeezing her hips lightly. “We’ll work through this, and we’ll do it together.”

She gazed at him then heaved a sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thanks Hal.”

“Don’t mention it,” he chuckled, then murmured, “But if we really are going to be parents, should we tie the knot?”

“Absolutely not.”

***

“Hal, for the love of God, will you sit down?” she griped. “You’re starting to make me anxious with all that pacing.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before shrugging off his bomber. “I can’t help it,” he retorted. “I hate waiting.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “Leslie’s working as fast as she can. Just sit down and be patient.”

Hal paced for another minute before collapsing into the seat beside her; she took his hand in hers and rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand. “What are you doing?” he asked, and she hummed.

“Comforting you.”

“Why?”

She looked at him. “Because you’re worried.”

“How are you not?”

“I am,” she commented, and he scowled.

“You don’t look it.”

“Well, that’s because I was trained to retain my emotions a as child,” she retorted. “It helps when I’m dealing with children who are scared.”

“I’m not a child,” Hal hissed, and she snorted.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You know what? I’m gonna—”

The door opened and their mouths snapped shut as Leslie walked in with a smile. “Good afternoon.”

“Hey Leslie,” she greeted, then glanced at the papers in her hand. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Leslie handed her the file and she looked it over. “Case of irregular period, dear.”

She blinked and said dumbly, “I’m not pregnant?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Our bodies act up sometimes, even when we’re grown. Irregularities can still happen even now.” Clearing her throat, Leslie added, “But your blood and urinalysis came back negative. You’re not pregnant.” She looked between Hal and her. “With the results, you’re free to leave.”

She stood to her feet, but when Hal didn’t, she tugged his hand. “Hal,” she whispered. “Come on.”

He staggered to his feet. “Yeah, I’m coming.” He disappeared out of the clinic room, and she sighed, then looked at Leslie.

“Thanks doc.”

“Of course.”

***

They were quiet on the park bench, watching the sun reflect off the water and listening to the birds singing in the sky. “So…I guess that’s a relief,” Hal stated, and she nodded.

“Yeah. I guess it is.” Laughing, she said, “I mean could you imagine if I were actually carrying your kid?” when he didn’t laugh, she looked over at him. “Hal?”

He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah, couldn’t imagine it.”

“Hal,” she plead. “Are you upset that I’m not?”

“What? No. No, I’m relieved you’re not pregnant, but…” he sighed and shrugged. “I dunno at the same time as scared as I was, I was happy, you know? Ready to step up and be there for you.”

She lowered her gaze to his hands and reached over, placing hers over his and he took it, squeezing. “Well, look at it this way. This was the universe telling you that you’re ready to be a father and this was the universe telling me that I’m not ready to be a mom or your baby’s mother.”

Hal gazed at her for a moment then chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He squeezed her hand again and climbed to his feet, flashing green as his suit appeared. “Now that everything’s sorted out, I should be getting back to Coast City.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed, standing to her feet.

“Can I drop you off anywhere?”

“Nah, I’m gonna walk around for a bit,” she said.

Hal took to the sky then looked down at her. “If you ever find yourself ready…call me?”

A shocked laugh bubbled in her chest, and she shook her head. “Not a chance in hell, Jordan.”

“Come on, don’t you think it would be fun to have the old Bat call me his son in law?”

Giggling, she waved him off. “Get out of here, Hal.”

Winking, he replied, “See you later, babe.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle and watch him leave, then she shook her head. “Ridiculous.” But a small smile was still on her lips as she headed down the street.

***Alternate Ending***

She gazed numbly out at the water, not sure if she should feel surprise or shock, but whatever emotion she was feeling had completely dumbfounded her. She was pregnant. Her hands had unconsciously pressed tight to her stomach, and she felt sick more than anything. Sick, scared, ashamed, every emotion that came with sleeping with a coworker—and every TV show and movie where the woman got pregnant from the affair.

How was she going to explain this to her family? To her friends? How was she going to face their scrutiny? Pregnant out of wedlock? With the biggest skirt-chasing, arrogant asshole in the galaxy? She’d take the brunt of their scathing opinions. He’d get off scot-free. He’d—

“(Y/N).” Someone’s hand rested on her shoulder, and she blinked, suddenly brought from her stupor and she looked over at him; his gaze was full of worry. “Are you okay?”

Instantly, she felt angry, and she jerked away from him, standing to her feet. “Am I okay!” she shouted. “You got me pregnant! Do you have any idea what this is going to do to us! To our reputations! To mine!”

Irritation etched across his face, and he stood to his feet, getting in her face. “It takes two to tango, (Y/N). We both did this—not just me.”

Her mouth opened to retort sharply, but damned if he didn’t have a point and she shut her mouth, tasting something bitter as she looked away. “I’m going home.”

She turned and his hand shot out, grabbing hold of her arm. “Wait, I don’t want you going alone.”

“Let go of me.” She hissed, trying to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

“No. It’s too dangerous for you to be out alone.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to Jordan. I’m—”

“The mother of my child.” Hal declared and she gaped at him. “I know what you and your family think of me. I know you think I’m an arrogant asshole and yeah, I’ll admit that I am.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. “But if you think for a second, I’m going to let you wander around this bat-shit crazy city alone while pregnant, then you’re the one who’s being arrogant.”

He searched her gaze. “I’m many things, (Y/N). But I’m not going to abandon you or shy away from whatever this is.”

She swallowed thickly. “What do you mean ‘whatever this is’? Parents?”

“Us.” Hal said. “Maybe it’s just my big head, but I see the way you look at me. Yeah, I annoy the hell out of you, but you care for me.” He reached up, cupping her cheek. “And I care about you too. More than just what teammates should for one another.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say, because he did have a point. Hal was an annoying prick who at many times provoked her into physical confrontation, but on the other hand, there was nothing she loved more than fighting with him, because she knew he found it just as amusing.

Her gaze lowered and she felt tears well in her eyes. “I’m scared, Hal.”

“I know. I am too,” he murmured. “But we’re going to get through this.” He tipped her head up, catching her eyes once more. “We will get through this. Together.”

(Y/N)’s lips wobbled, and she tried for a lighthearted comment. “Isn’t fraternization against the rules?”

Hal grinned. “Only in the military.” He winked. “Last time I checked—we’re not in it.”

She laughed, leaning forward, and pressed her forehead to his. “How’s everyone going to react to this?”

He shrugged. “Probably with shock. I mean about me getting a girl pregnant? Not likely. Getting you pregnant? More likely.”

“Shut up.”

“I think we should consider getting married though.”

(Y/N) pulled away and stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Hal looked at her. “(Y/N), we should think about getting married. I mean, we’re gonna have a kid together. Might as well tie the knot while we’re at it.”

She merely blinked and spun, walking off. “Nope. Not happening. I’ll be your baby-mama, but I am not marrying you.”

“Hey! Wait up!”

[cyberfairyblog]

Arguments (Jason Whittaker x OC)

Vanessa finds out about Erika Clark's incident in the Room of Consequence, which rubs her the wrong way. AKA neither Jason & Vanessa are entirely right nor entirely wrong and have conflict like any normal adult has.

The radio blared a chipper little pop tune as Vanessa cleaned the glasses to be used for the next patron. She noticed one of her mother's students, Ericka Clark, sitting at the counter looking very forlorn.

"Hn? What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," said Erika. "It's just that I'm missing out on my favorite show, well used to be favorite."

"And what show would that be?"

"Medical Center of Love, Mr. Whittaker told me it was trashy and that I shouldn't watch it."

"Did he now?" Who did that man think he was? Telling someone what they should and shouldn't watch! The audacity!

"He even took me to the ROC to show me how awful it truly is!" She began recounting her trip, how the characters came to life. How it started off as a total dream before the cheating and lying warped it into a nightmare. Vanessa listened intently getting more and more disturbed. She had to talk to Jason about this.

"I see," she said as Erika finished with her sorry. She get problematic media, heck she wrote problematic stuff. But for Jason to react by using the ROC just to teach a lesson rubbed her the wrong way.

"I have a question for you, have you stolen anything?

"No."

"Have you broke promises to a friend or flirt with every boy you see?"

"No."

"Well then if you're not practicing that stuff then I say it's okay!"

Erika perked up. "Walt really?"

"Hey as long as you know it's fiction," said Vanessa. "Just be a bit mindful."

"And how do I do that?" Erika hoped this wouldn't lead to another trip to the Room of Consequence. Vanessa grinned. "Just go with your gut."

Erika looked at her stomach. "Go with my gut?"

The next day Jason was managing the dining hall when he overheard Erika talking to one of her school friends. He heard her mention the soap opera and decided to cut in.

"Not to be rude but I thought you said you weren't going to watch that anymore," he wondered.

"Well I'm not watching it now," said Erika. "Miss Marbles told me as long as I was mindful of it being fake it was okay. I know I don't steal or lie or cheat on my friends so I guess I'm in the clear!"

Jason gaped. How dare she try to intervened in his educational moment?! When he found her he was going to have words with her! He remained silent sparing Erika a warning glance or two like a scolding father....

Or Jack Allen....oh no he was getting OLD!

🍀🍀🍀

That evening, Vanessa was at the empty manor cleaning up one of the open rooms when a still-upset Jason found her.

"YOU!" He called out.

Vanessa stopped sweeping and cringed. Crap! Somehow he heard about her little convo with Erika. A small rational side of her mocked her - you deserved it - but this time she was going to stand her ground.

"She's back watching that garbage because of you!"

The novelist shrugged. "It's just a show. I'm confident she knows the difference between what's real and what's fake."

"Yeah but for how long?" Jason asked cross. "You know that stuff is bad so why encourage it?"

"Let me get this straight: a trashy soap opera is bad but yet you can bring video games that defeats the purpose of this place?" She had nothing against video games but she knew Whit never allowed modern technology to be used in the main room. Even the Imagination Station was kept locked up for safety reasons keeping her father Regis away from it.

"Christian video games," he emphasized. "There's a difference. I'm keeping up with the theming at least!"

The novelist sighed in defeat and lowered her head. "I guess women can't do anything after all, everything we do is poison to a man." She smirked as she heard Jason sputter.

"What! That's not even the point nor was it the intention!"

"Well what was your intention?"

"I was trying to teach Erika that shouldn't life imitate art." It was true! Sure it may be harmless at first glance but, he had seen a lot of friendships and relationships shattered because one or both parties thought it was cool to mess with each other's feelings. It was better to nip it in the bud before it escalated.

"Look all that does is show kids that stuff is okay to do in real life when it's not," he countered.

"And how many times a kid thought they nearly died because of the realistic scenarios in the Room of Consequence?" Vanessa pointed out.

"There's more chances being shot by a jilted lover than becoming a lion's meal! I just don't want Erika to get hurt!" Why wasn't she getting it? That soap only glamorizes that awful behavior. He did not want to see Erika get hurt or hurt herself by thinking that stuff would be okay in real life.

"Should I point out the time I got chased by Roman soldiers? That's way more traumatizing than anything a cheesy soap opera may show!"

"Vanessa it's a holograph, Holographs do not and will not harm anyone in real. Life!" He finally lost it. "Gosh you are so thick!"

Now Vanessa was about to lose her temper. "Oh I'm thick? At least I can call myself a good role model by not lecturing kids on what to watch."

"I don't know what kind of role model are you, but when I was growing up we had good clean wholesome fun"

"And when I was growing up we didn't control fun!"

Oh ho - she thought he was controlling huh? That sounded like a challenge and like any Whittaker, he LOVED a good challenge! "Ok sweetheart since you wanna be like that how about a bet? Who can be the best role model at Whit's End?"

"Challenge accepted," Vanessa said coolly. "Better get the tissues ready for when you lose."

"It's on!"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

And with childish pouts the two employees stormed off in opposite directions, both determined to prove the other that they were the best voice of reason for the kids.

Finally some good frickin conflict! 😁😁😁 The road to love never was smooth; that couldn't be more true for Jason & Vanessa! Now neither of them are particularly wrong or right. At the same time it just shows how passionate they can be when it comes to the wellbeing of others even if they end up being immature about it. Besides I want their eventual courtship arc to feel a lot more earned so of course there's going to be obstacles for them to overcome! All in all both need to learn to be more considerate of the other's position, and to let people think for themselves (the lack of such is why I find the Nu!Odyssey to be trash). I tried to make the dialogue not come off as meanspirited or lame.

[internalsealpanic]

I Will be Your Tim Drake for Tonight (3) (Jason Todd/ Reader)

Summary:  Preferring to do anything but your physics project, you decide to accepts Tim’s proposal. It’s simple. He does your project, you try to figure out whether Jason Sionis is criminal. Easy, right?

masterlist

A/n: This takes place in a world where Jason is adopted by Black Mask. Inspired by Building Interest by Zoeleo.The events and characterization in this story are very heavily based on Zoeleo's Long Term Investment series. It is fantastic and I really highly recommend all of her fics.

a/n: For clarification, Reader does have psychic powers but it only lets her sense people's emotions physically. No mind-reading. Her power is more like an overactive sense of empathy which may force her to dissociate into someone else.

There will be violence and mentions of alcoholism (used as coping mechanism for physical pain) and chronic pain.  

As for the additional warning, an animal is harmed but it is barely described. I could not bring myself to actual describe it but the aftermath is described.

I also just converted this from an OC so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Without further a do:

Your stomach drops.

Fuck.

Of course, Damian just had to be the one to pick up.

"Hey baby bro, could you pass the phone to dad?"

"I'm sorry who is this?"

This little shit.

"You're such a kidder! Dami, it's me, Tim. "

“Ah yes, Drake-” You can hear Tim choke in the background. “What do you want?”

“Please Dami just pass the phone to dad, I- I really need to talk to him”

“Very well,”

“Tim?” The voice sounded like Bruce’s but the intonation was all wrong. The voice changer Tim and Babs were working on seems to have made progress.

“Hey dad, I- uh. I might have gotten kidnapped.”

Tim makes another choking noise. “Might have?”

“I was at the party. I think I had around 13 drinks. 13 ! Can you believe it? I felt like a right sailor after that, like the harbor workers, y’know? Anyway, I was taking a smoke-”

“Enough!” The large man roared, snatching the phone from you. “Send us $100 million by tomorrow or your kid’ll be shark bait!” Who says that anymore?

“Of course! Of course! I’ll have the money sometime this evening. Please don’t hurt him.”

Tim, God bless him, does not laugh. Tim’s acting needs some work but he sure does know how to act worried.

The line dies and they tie you back up to the post.

“What the hell?!”

“We have to make sure you don’t just runoff.” The large man says tightening your bonds. Truthfully, you’ve felt far worse. After all, corsets exist. However, this was still a close second.  

“Do I look like I could outrun a snail?”

“He’s got a point boss. He looks like he hasn’t even seen the sun in ages.”

This, you decide, is true for Tim. When was the last time he went out before dark? Maybe he got sunlight when he stayed over at Eddie’s place.

The large man grabs Jason by the collar and throws him to his men.

The 3 men kick and curse at him. They mock him and beat him down. They wail on him with their fists, their steel-toed shoes, and sometimes brick. Jason takes it all with a crooked grin and a sharp tongue. You watched in awe. Even on the floor, Jason looked sturdy, ferocious, and indomitable.

"They all break, sweet girl."

Jason is on a tiled floor. No, he should be on concrete. His blood is on the tile. They’re hitting him. They’re hitting him with a bat. No. They aren’t supposed to be holding a bat. They were kicking him but now they’re holding a bat. No, She’s holding a bat. There's supposed to be three of them, three men,  but their forms coalesce into her .  You can hear his ribs cracking. Next are his legs. His legs are always next. Then his arm. She'll break each bone in his arms and his hands.  He’s wheezing. His voice sounds hoarse. His voice is too hoarse. He sounds like he’s been starved and dehydrated for at least a day. They’ve only been here for an hour. That isn’t right. Oh God! Now she had a cleaver in her hands.

No!

No!

He doesn’t need to die. She can’t.

no.

No.

No!  

 The scene crescendos as the tall, dark, sinewy silhouette towering over Jason raises the butcher's knife above her head.

“Harder, daddy!”

“Son?”

The scene of the kitchen fades and the shit-eating grin on Jason melts into view which shifts from amusement to confusion then back to amusement.

You blink seeing his stupid grin far too clearly.

You let a bark of gut-busting laughter out as you strain against the rope. Your brow pinches with concern but based on the scowls you’re receiving they're more focused on the fact that you were laughing like a mad man.  

Jason looks like he’s about to laugh from the absurdity as well when the man in charge picks him up again tossing him into a chair. The other men tie him down binding his wrists and ankles.

"I've had worse." He spits out.

The phone rings again, the dial tone echoing. Jason looks like hell with his face swollen and bruises beginning to bloom on every surface but he still looked like he was 5 seconds from starting a fight.

The large man punches Jason hard in the gut knocking the air out of his lungs as the dial tone cuts off.  “Hear that, Sionis? Your little bitch is pretty soft.”

Oh God, are they serious?

“Who is this? Nevermind. You ok there, sweetheart?” Roman Sionis’ ‘concerned’ voice carries over the line.

They are.

“Nothing I can't handle, daddy.” Jason chuckles with the utmost casualness. You, on the other hand,  instantly want to disinfect your brain. Thankfully, before your mind could wander somewhere it can't return from,  the big man growls into the phone.

“Don't you recognize the voice of the man whose life you've ruined?!”

“You've gotta be more specific than that. I've ruined quite a few lives but I would like to know whose brain I need to put a bullet in.”

“IT'S ME  BRUNO HARDIN!”

“Doesn't ring any bells.” Roman deadpans almost sounding completely disinterested. “Sweetheart, you remember anyone like that?”

“Nope,” Jason replies letting the p pop. It seemed like a strange sort of triumph before it all crashes down with another swift punch to the ribs.

You stare at the strange scene torn between amusement and horror.

“Take this seriously!” Bruno roars.

"I'm taking this about as seriously as it deserves."

A part of you thought 'yeah this is ridiculous enough to warrant nonchalance' while the other part wanted to scream.  On one hand, even you found his identity anticlimactic. Doesn’t he know just how many small-time businesses Roman has ruined? He’d be lucky to get into the top 50. It’s not like he was running a pretty ethical establishment either.  On the other hand, your freaking kid is getting the shit kicked out of him. Emote damn it.

“Jason. Don’t you worry. Daddy’s going to take care of this. Your Uncle D happens to be in town. He’s on his way to pick you up. Love you, baby. See you soon.”

The line dies. Your stomach sinks further somehow. You don’t know if the nausea is due to the fact that the line died, the threat, or the number of times the word ‘daddy’ came up. Who the hell is Uncle D? How is he supposed to help? Your gaze trails to Jason who is now lowering his head to the floor seemingly tired. Maybe that last punch finally drained the fight from him.

“You're all so fucked.” Jason barks out in a fit of laughter. The men around him, jumping from the volume of his voice.  

Bruno grabs Jason by the collar and begins to shake him as if the  “Shut the fuck up you little bitch! Whoever your Uncle D is he's-”

“Deathstroke”

You feel like someone kicked you in the chest. First of all, Uncle D? Really? You guess that there are worse hills to die on. This was somehow weirder than hearing Faust and her siblings call him pops. Second of all, Fuck. You'd never gotten your asshanded to you by Deathstroke but based on how banged up the Titans looked after fighting him this wasn't gonna be pretty.  All you could hope for was that you wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. Although, the image of Deathstroke grudgingly letting a kid call him Uncle D lightens your mood a bit.  

Bruno throws Jason on the floor hard enough for his body to bounce. Like Jason earlier, Bruno is radiating murder.

Just run, you thick motherfucker.

You, being the ‘nice’ Wayne kid that you are,  try to tell him as much but sadly that was halted by shattering glass. A flurry of black, orange, and metal crash through the glass and cut through the crowd of men.  

They fire at him, panic making their faces even paler. They hit him, bullets sinking into his flesh, blood splatters but none of it fazes him. He skewers and cuts them down with ease. His swords and suit are liberally decorated with their blood when it’s all done.

He steps over Bruno’s body. From the grunt that comes out, Bruno is still alive. Dumb bastard doesn’t know how to play dead. He’ll die from blood loss anyway.

“Hey, kid-” Deathstroke greets tersely,  picking up Jason’s nearly limp body.  “We’re gonna get you home.” He slings Jason’s arm over his shoulder.

“Wait!”  

Deathstroke stops sounding slightly annoyed.

Jason turns to you, who’s still unhappily tied to a post.  “We gotta get him out.” He rasps.  

“Kid, you’re the only one I’m getting paid to rescue.”  Deathstroke helpfully informs as he carefully adjusts his hold on the struggling young man. You blow out a breath somehow more irritable than scared.  “Just cut me out. I can make my way back just fine.”

“Walk in Gotham, are you stupid?” Jason hisses. The concern bleeding through.

“Which one of us charged at their captors while they were armed?”

Jason scowls at you with a petulant twist in his lips. “Yanno what,  Leave ‘im.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry and yeah I’ll be fine. I know where to avoid. Just please don’t leave me with them” you plead, throwing away any pride you held as you glance at the most likely dead bodies. Deathstroke cuts you out. Your skin feels raw but you’re otherwise unharmed.

You walk out of the warehouse and Dick practically throws himself at you. “Oh thank god, they didn’t shoot you in the head.” He mumbles into your wig.  

"Why would you think they would shoot me in the head?"

Dick pulls back and frowns at you through the domino mask.  “You aren’t exactly the most pleasant-”

“ We were model hostages.” you squawk.

Jason snorts far too loudly to be helpful.

You glare at him but you weren’t about to say fuck off to him while he has one of the world’s deadliest assassins right next to him.

Deathstroke coughs.  “Well if you don’t mind we’ll be taking our leave.”

Dick holding you protectively, glares but says nothing. Maybe he does but you faint before you can hear it.

A/n: Thanks for reading!

[thecutiefanficwriter]

V is for Vengeance (Part 2)

(A\N) Part two am I right. I hope ya’ll dig this. Let me know if you see anywhere i can improve.

Word Count: 1533

x0x0

Y\N was on the prowl again, without the staff this time. This time it was simply to be scouting. Rumor had it that Scare Crown and Joker had decided a team-up was due, after their last success together. She there she was, the dull purple and black of her suit helping mask her as she sat at the top of the building across from the warehouse, watching as the lovely Scare Crow ordered Joker’s stupid goons about. 

The rage was boiling in her belly again as she sat there, the nonchalance of it all. As if this didn’t result in the loss of innocent lives. And they moved like it was nothing. She was so caught up in it that her brain didn’t even bother to inform her two forms stood behind her until their hands were on her, pulling her back until her back dug into the ground and the air in her lungs escaped.

Two familiar masks hovered a foot above her own, one domino and one stupid red biker looking ass mask. Another huff escaped her this time.

“I’m busy”

“Frankly sweetheart, we don’t care”

“Frankly I don’t care about your care status Red Hood”

Dick decided this was already getting out of hand. Snark versus snark would not be getting them where they needed to be today.

“What are you doing here? And how did you find out about it?” was what he decided on, temporarily shutting up Jason as they awaiting the answer. 

“I’m watching and that’s none of your business, Nightwing” Dick decided he did not like how she said his name. 

With a glance at Jason he took his hands off her shoulder, Jason following suit, allowing her to sit up with a glare at the pair.

“Where’s the staff, sweetheart?” Jason questioned, earning another glare from behind her mask. 

“None of your business, first of all. Y’all weren’t using it for anything but letting it collect dust. And my name isn’t sweetheart you rotting cum dumpster. It’s (y/n)” that earned to bewildered looks. Jason had to stare at her a moment she was so insane before finally gathering himself back together.

“Why are you here?” Dick’s turn to question apparently, only turning up the heat on the anger in her belly. She didn’t have time for their stupid antics nor their stupid faces nor their stupid bodies. (Y/N) decided to not acknowledge the last part of that thought.

“I’m working you morons.” she heard a vague whistle from Jason, “And neither of you are helping. “

She turned and crouched again as the goons pulled in the rest of their load, slamming the door to the warehouse shut behind them. She needed in there. Tonight.

A glance back over her shoulder showed them still there, arms crossed, still staring at her. Drastic times called for drastic measures she supposed.

“We can in through the windows on the left and right front quarters of the building. That’s where you two will go in. I’ll go in through the top, do the old classic drop in. Y’all take out the goons, I’ll find Scarecrow. If we take him down it’ll be easier to take out Joker. Then we can sit and talk and you might even get your stupid staff back” she was lying about the staff. They could pry it from her cold dead hand before they’d get it back from her.

(Y\N) glanced between the two as they seemed to have a conversation of body language, a skill she didn’t understand nor care about. It seemed like they came to a conclusion when Jason nodded to her.

“Sure doll” Another glare for him.

“Good. Follow me then. I need to go to my place before we do anything” her cape flapped as she walked passed the pair, not realizing they were once again confused.

“You’re gonna take us to your hideout? You don’t even know us?” it was Dick questioning her this time, causing her to roll her eyes once again. 

“After this, I won’t be doing this anymore” a simple statement with no context, pretty on board for her they supposed. They followed her. 

And then decided her hideout was not as hideouty as they expected. 

A van that looked like it was barely holding together stood before them as she opened the door, a few fast-food wrappers and bags falling out, which twisted Dick’s face into disgust. 

“This...this is where you hideout?” the humor in Jason’s voice was easy to spot, even for someone who didn’t care to notice.

“Yeah. Can vigilante and work full time without being on the verge of death, so I prioritized” there it was, cramped between the worn mattress on the floor of the van and the van wall was the staff. With a quick shake of the golden artifact, she hopped out of the van, slamming the doors shut as she looked at the pair. 

“What?” two guys vigorously shaking their heads and swearing it was nothing was not convincing in the slightest, but (Y\N) decided to let it slide this once. 

That how (Y\N) found herself crouching on the rood while the pair of morons she had seemed to pick up sat in their positions, awaiting the arrival of Scarecrow and Joker. 

“Any sign of them sweetheart?” 

“No, darling, not yet. Wait! I see them” She internally thanked the pair for lending her an earpiece.

The glass shattered beneath her as the staff met it, allowing her to fall into the warehouse below. Just as she had planned her feet met the goon she had resided over, the gold of her staff surely being covered in red where it sank into the flesh of his back.

As soon as he was down she whirled around lunging at the coward that hid behind burlap. She may have underestimated him. The sounds of her fight mixed with the sound of Dick’s and Jason’s, with Joker’s laughter feeling up any space of silence. 

A swift kick to her leg sent her backward, only for her head and back to meet hard concrete. The laughter filling her ears told her the culprit. The dots clouding her vision had only begun to clear when she felt gas hit her face and the laughter distort. 

She rolled over in her panic, her eyes darting around her as the warehouse distorted in front of her own eyes. She thought she heard her name, but her eyes were glued to him. It had been so long since she saw him. 

Blood was still pouring from his forehead as he bowed in front of her, their matching eyes connecting before she felt his fingers in her hair, pulling it back as far as it could go. 

“You did this to me. You traded places with me. You let me die! And now yu work with the people who helped kill me” she couldn’t say anything before he let go, his foot railing into her back, force her back into the ground. 

“You did this to me! Only because you can’t take a fucking beating” her lungs screamed for air as his foot met her again and again. Then she saw another figure, just approaching out of view. The white face told her everything she needed to know. 

“Van, no, wait, I” another stomp to her back cause the crack of something within her making her scream once again. Fingers met her hair again, but Van wasn’t there this time. The glinting eyes of the Joker were before her this time as he laughed. The sobbing scream that escaped her this time threw away any dignity she thought she had as she yanked away, doing her best to ignore the patch of hair she was sure pulled away from her scalp. 

The anger she carried from before bubbled up again as she stared at the man who killed her big brother, his face twisting only to scare her more. Then it clicked to her. The Staff.

Her arm jerked out as she felt for it, the cold metal grazing her fingertips before she gripped it, using it to pull her screaming body up. Joker only laughed again. 

She held it out at him before a hand gripped the back of her neck yanking her backward as if pulling her out of the nightmare.

Only for her to be in another. She felt the eyes looking at her as she spun around, trying to know where she was. The darkness. She was in the darkness.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she wanted it to be a yell, but it was nothing more than a weak whimper as she spun around. All it did was expand before her. Her staff was gone. She had no way to light her way. 

“Van,” nothing responded as her weak yell echoed behind her, “Nightwing? Red Hood?” 

Silence.

They had left her in the dark. A shudder traveled down her spine as she stood there, only to sink down into the floor as her sobs wracked her chest. She was alone. In the dark. And they had left her there. The heroes she trusted abandoned her.

[random-fandom-prompts]

a conundrum of competing legacies and learning to live for yourself

in many alternate universes, damian wayne becomes a villain. he gets sick and tired of being treated like he will never change, treated like he’s made of glass, treated like a murderer. like a bad person.

so, if people are never going to believe that he’s different, he’s changed, he’s a good person now, really! then why not give the people what they want?

you wanted me to be evil? fine.

so be it.

he fulfills his legacy. becomes the demon’s head. the long line of al ghuls will not end with him. the people are happy, but is damian?

but this is not that story. this isn’t a story where the heroes are right. everyone makes mistakes, everyone is wrong sometimes, and what are heroes if not everyone?

so no. this isn’t a story where a good boy faces the whole world telling him he’s evil and his spirit shattering. this is a story about defying legacies. defying family names and bloodlines and expectations.

in many alternate universes, and indeed maybe the future, damian wayne becomes evil.

but in this one? in this one he learns that you don’t have to wear a cape to save people.

and maybe sometimes, sometimes it’s ok to save yourself.

in the end, he goes to jason. tracks him down to a rundown apartment in crime alley, and they talk.

the one thing their family has never been good at.

what do i do, to- jason. i can't go back to bruce, and i definitely can't go back to the league.  i- i can’t-

that's what they want me to do. i’m done with doing what they want, but i don’t-

calm down, kid. this is an easy problem to fix. what do you want to do?

i don’t- i don’t want- 

i don’t want to fight anymore.

then don't.

----------

in the end, he goes to england. maybe it’s for a new start, maybe it’s to remind him of what was. what could’ve been.

whatever the reason, he goes.

he rents a small house in a small town in the countryside, and he draws.

and draws

and draws.

he draws pictures of the birds, of the goldfinches that nest on his windowsill, of the robins in the trees. (and isn’t that just ironic.)

(he draws to distract himself from the empty house.

draws to distract himself from the empty inside.)

he can live with his neighbors constantly asking if he wants to have tea and-

come in dear boy! we have tea and crumpets and you need a little more meat on those bones!

he declines.

----------

but they are persistent, and in the end he says yes.

----------

their tea tastes like pen- like al- like his and he can’t he can’t-

he’s crying.

but he’s in the house of two grandmothers who couldn’t have children and he doesn’t eat enough, and goddammit they will save this breaking boy if it's the last thing they do.

look at those scars, riri. he needs us.

i know, anne. i know.

----------

they let him cry, which is nice.

they sit near him, but not enough to crowd. close enough for him to go to them, which he appreciates.

he cries and he cries and he cries.

you look like you need someone to talk to dearie. i can’t promise that we will understand, but i can promise that we will listen. a boy like you shouldn't have to carry all this weight alone.

damian wants to scream, to yell: you don't understand!! i’ve lost everything! everyone! they all think i’m evil and i can’t replace him, please-

but they said they would listen, and damian doesn't want to fight anymore. he’s tired, and so he talks.

it's what he would like, and isn't that enough?

----------

damian doesn't spare details. he doesn't care enough to hide anymore.

he should care. he should be wary. they could spill his secrets in a second, but the tea smells like home and their expressions are open, and really. what does he have left to lose?

so he spills his secrets to these sweet old ladies who saw a broken, lonely boy, and offered him some tea despite his prickly exterior, despite his god awful superiority complex, despite his saying: no, i don’t want your stupid tea, you hear me? leave. me. alone.

they saw this broken boy, and they didn't need capes to try and save him.

----------

my first kill was at four, a traitor to the crown, and i was excited.

--

i tried to kill him! simply because i was jealous. he was everything i wasn't, and i wanted him dead for it.

--

grayson helped me a lot. they both did. they were my fathers when bruce couldn't be.

--

and jon, sweet, kind jon, partner, my best friend, superboy and robin, one of the only people on this horrid planet who didn't think i was (am) a terrible person, he got lost in space and suddenly he's seventeen and wants nothing to do with me, he goes to the future with hardly a goodbye, and-

--

he shot him and he lost his memories, my mentor, my brother, one of the only people in that god awful house who actually cared.

--

and my team- old team now, i guess, stopped me from killing him, but they just keep escaping! it's an endless cycle of jail and needless murder, it's ridding the world of a monster, and my hands are already covered in blood, and if there is one thing i learned from my mother it's to play by the cheater’s rules-

--

and he crushed his skull in front of me! i tasted his brain, i can’t-

i can’t-

i don’t want to fight anymore, but what else is there?

----------

in the end, he stays over. they tuck him in in a flowery comforter with bird patterned wallpaper, and he sleeps for the first time in what feels like years.

marjorie and anne talk in quiet whispers in their bedroom about how to help this poor broken kid, this little robin with too many legacies to live up to.

he needs therapy, anne.

i agree riri, but this isn't something that we should tell just anyone, i’d offer to help but i retired years ago.

are you really going to let this poor boy go? he might turn to worse things than disassociation if we leave him be.

i know, i know.

----------

in the end, they give him two choices. 

you can stay here, and go to a therapist, or you can stay here, and talk to marjorie, who’s a retired therapist.

he wants to say no, to argue. i can take care of myself, i’ve been doing it for years, i don’t need the help of some old decrepit ladies-

but damian doesn't want to fight anymore, and he so he doesn't.

and, oh, doesn't being ok just sound magical?

i will stay, and i will talk to marjorie. but i don't have to talk about anything i don’t want too.

and for now, that's enough.

and for now, maybe he can believe that hope has room for him, too.

----------

have you tried writing letters to him, dearie? i know you love to draw, and that's a great coping mechanism, but maybe writing will help?

and it's been about a month here, here with his sweet, lesbian grandmas, and they are just trying to help, and maybe, just maybe, they are softening his edges just a bit.

and really, what harm will it do?

----------

dear pennyworth,

hello.

when i was young, mother used to tell me that there was a place for everyone after death. that allah had room in his heart for everyone.

excuse my language, but grandfather taught me that was bullshit.

but knowing so many people who have died and come back, (myself included,) has made me start to believe her more.

and maybe it's just that small part of me hoping i will get to see you again, or maybe it's a fool's hope, but living here, with marjorie and anne, they’ve taught me that maybe hope isn't so foolish after all.

so maybe i can afford a little hope.

your young charge,

damian wayne.

----------

the thing about legacies, sweetheart, is that they often leave you in the shadows. don't you think you deserve a little sun?

it's been about three months here, with marjorie and anne, and, yeah, doesn't he deserve a little sun?

things are starting to look up, and maybe it's time to test his wings.

----------

dear alfred,

it's been about three years here, in england with marjorie and anne. and honestly? i think this is the happiest i’ve been.

there have been setbacks, like starting school again, and bruce trying to contact me, but i think i’ve found something here.

i started finding it when i first moved to the manor, with you and with grayson. i started finding it while befriending jon, getting titus and alfred. (i miss them.)

started finding it when i found my first family.

i think i lost it, for a bit there. when you died, when richard lost his memory, when jon left for the future.

but i found it here, in england, with marjorie and anne and the birds i’ve befriended in the forest, and the few people i've found at school who tolerate me.

i’ve changed, alfred. i don’t quite think you’d recognize me. i suppose i must introduce myself, then.

so hello. my name is sparrow jon crane. 

what i’ve been trying to find all my life, alfred, was myself. and i think i’ve finally got it.

your great grandson,

sparrow crane.

this is the longest thing ive ever written and GODDAMN am i proud of it

[thepartyresponsible]

fourth drabble! i’m still working on drabbles from this list. this one’s for @izumikouhei​, who asked for tony stark/bruce wayne with 66. “if i die, i’m never speaking to you again.”

for the record, there’s bonus roy harper/jason todd. no real warnings for this one, except that it’s ridiculous and kinda fluffy.

also, i failed spectacularly to keep this one under 1000 words. damn, did i fail.

It could have been anyone and anything, but it’s a kid on a rooftop, out of his mind on fear toxin, and it’s a four-story drop crashing through a poorly-enforced fire escape. Batman ends his nightly patrol with a broken arm and three broken ribs and a concussion so mean he can barely stand up without puking.  

The kid is fine, though. Of course he’s fine. Bruce sacrificed his grappling line to save him.

“Yeah,” Jason says, when he shoulders his way into the Manor, drops his duffel bag at the door, and lets Alfred wrap him in a hug. “Yeah, whatever. Beacons are lit. Gotham calls for aid. Here I am.”

“Oh good,” Tony Stark says, peering inquisitively over Alfred’s shoulder, drinking what is either a glass of orange juice or a casual mid-morning screwdriver. “I was hoping someone sturdy would show up.”

  It should be Dick’s problem, but Dick’s doing something complicated with the Titans that involves a lot of fraught interpersonal dynamics and new uniforms and maybe the apocalypse. It could also be Tim’s problem, except he’s at summer camp with the Teen Titans or whatever the hell they do when they all collectively disappear for a while, and Damian, of course, is around, in the sense that he’s always around, but Jason doesn’t trust Gotham to his tender mercies.

Damian’s a promising enough kid, but he’s also potentially the Antichrist. And if the kid gets killed, Jason’s going to have to deal with Bruce in mourning, and he doesn’t have the stomach for that kind of showy, resolute self-martyrdom anymore.

So it’s Jason’s problem. He packs his bags, lets Roy kiss him goodbye, and then he heads to Gotham. He even has the decency to leave his guns behind. He feels a little stupid about that once he discovers he’s patrolling with Iron Man, but it turns out Stark’s swapped all his ammunition for non-lethal rounds.

“Of course I did,” Stark says, three nights in. Dawn’s slowly bruising the skyline, and they’re drinking ice water on the rooftop of Wayne Manor, trying to cool off after another bullshit night of sweating through their body armor. Stark clears his throat and then drops his voice, approximating Bruce’s Batman-growl with impressive accuracy. “If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world remains the same.”

Jason groans and presses the cold glass to his forehead. It doesn’t help as much as he wants it to. “He’s such an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Stark says, with a wide, affectionate grin. “And surprisingly bad at math.”

Jason doesn’t mind working with Stark. He’s like a funhouse mirror version of Bruce: too rich, too smart, too good at what he does, but stretched-out and wrongly-proportioned, all that grim resolve replaced with good-natured purpose, that laser point attention swapped with a cat’s capricious focus.

The Iron Man suit is fun, and Jason wants one of his own, but he’s content to keep dropping his tech on the breakfast table and watching as Stark’s concentration is slowly but inevitably drawn away from his coffee.

“You owe me, like. Hm.” Stark pauses, tips his head. They’re down in the Batcave, and Stark’s upgrading Jason’s rebreather. “Shit, how many things have I fixed for you? What is this? The…seventh? Do you know what my time’s worth?”

“Put it on Bruce’s tab,” Jason suggests. He’s texting Roy, who’s frothing at the mouth trying to get himself an invite. He’s got some kind of bizarre inventor’s crush on Tony Stark.

Stark goes still for a second and then laughs. He stifles it quickly, which is out of character.

When Jason looks up, Stark has his head ducked, mouth flat, and his cover is so egregiously shitty that he might as well be whistling innocuously with his hands in his pockets.

“Huh,” Jason says, just so they’re clear. Just so Stark knows that Jason knows that some weird shit is afoot.

“You know what you need?” Tony says, damn near doing jazz hands in his completely transparent attempt to redirect the conversation. “Repulsors.”

There’s one bad night where Jason lets Scarecrow dose him because getting drugged is better than letting the creep touch Damian, and then Jason’s out of his head, fucked up, clinging to the Iron Man suit while they skim through Gotham.

“Graveyard,” he says, because his mouth is full of imaginary blood and his fingernails feel broken to the nailbed and he’s been screaming for days, for years, for lifetimes. “Don’t take me to the graveyard.”

“Hey, scout,” Tony says, which is offensive. Which is bullshit. Jason is twenty-two years old. “I’m taking you home, okay?”

He takes him to Bruce’s house, and Alfred fusses, and someone asks, “Can I get anyone for you, kid?” and so Jason says, “Roy, I need Roy,” even though he doesn’t, not really, but he knows he’ll feel better if Roy’s there.

And then Roy is there, sitting suited up at Jason’s bedside, bow in hand, and it’s ridiculous, it’s all made-up, it’s fine. But. It’s nice, having someone on watch.

In the morning, Roy steps out to grab breakfast and comes back wide-eyed and red-cheeked. “Holy shit,” he says, under his breath. “Holy shit, Jay, it’s like walking in on your parents.”

And Jason’s got no fucking clue what he means by that, but he’s too wrung out to ask for clarification. He rolls onto his side, lets Roy scramble up into bed beside him, and then he makes soft pathetic noises until Roy pours just the right amount of sugar into his coffee.

Eventually, Bruce gets well enough to become a Goddamn nuisance. As soon as he’s cleared to sit in front of the screens in the Batcave for a couple hours a day, he decides, naturally, to play backseat driver while Jason and Tony run patrol.

He is fucking insufferable.

“Red Hood, on your right—on your right.”

“Iron Man, this is a street brawl, not a dance competition.”

“Hood, you could have shattered his scapula with that. Be careful.”

“Iron Man, the disarming sequence is—no, stop that, I have it right here. Stop it.”

Jason daydreams a lot about punching Bruce in the mouth. Tony Stark, for his part, just laughs and fires back.

“Oh no,” he says, when he’s disarming the bomb that’s supposed to level a city block. “Oh, how clumsy of me.”

“Iron Man,” Bruce says, voice tight.

“Whoops,” Tony says, while Jason coughs into his comm unit to hide his laughter.

“Iron Man,” he says, voice so low and tense that Bruce’s vocal chords might as well be glaciers grinding together.

“Gotham is just so dangerous,” Tony says. “If I die, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“Tony,” Bruce says, and there’s something weird in it, something held back.

The bomb goes dead and harmless at Tony’s feet. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says. “But I’m still better with explosives than you are. Don’t play tech support with me.”

The thing is, Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne don’t usually spend time together. They could. They both have that playboy billionaire thing to lean into, and there’s a whole series of archived news articles about their exploits in their early twenties. And Jason remembers, dimly, that Tony came by the house once or twice before that regrettable incident in the desert with the Joker and the crowbar.

Something happened between them after Jason died. Or maybe after Tony had his own regrettable incident in the desert.

“Why’re you here?” Jason asks, finally. Because it’s been three weeks, and Bruce is starting to train like he thinks he’ll be suiting up soon. Which means this vacation is almost over, and Jason’s going back to the Outlaws, and Tony’s going back to the Avengers, and Bruce is going back to brooding on rooftops. “I mean, I’m glad you are. Thanks for the upgrades. But Bruce is kind of an asshole, you know?”

Tony laughs into his coffee. There’s a vaguely evasive look on his face, and he’s smiling for no damn reason at all. “Bruce,” he says, with a shrug. “We grew up together. Even went to the same boarding schools a couple times.”

Jason cannot imagine Bruce as a child. “Before his parents died?” he asks, because that’s the part that seems impossible. Bruce Wayne, as a kid with parents, as someone with a future instead of a mission.

“Sure.” Tony shrugs; his smile disappears. “And after. We went to each other’s parents’ funerals. He brought a flask to mine, even though he never approved of—well. That’s how you know about people, isn’t it? At least with someone like Bruce. When they’ll give in, just a little. Because it’s something you need.”

Jason wouldn’t know about that. After all, the Joker’s still walking.

Although maybe, if he thinks about it, there’s a hundred different ways Bruce has compromised for him. And if he hasn’t done the one thing that would mean the most, maybe that’s because there are parts of yourself you can’t ever give away. Maybe Jason’s old enough to understand that now. Because, in the end, Jason hasn’t killed the Joker either.

“Sure,” he says. But he’s thinking about Roy. He’s thinking about Roy dopesick and shaking and terrified. He’s thinking about Roy, clean and steady and brave.

Tony finally looks over at him. His smile is crooked and fond. “You’re a good kid,” Tony tells him. “You’re all good kids. Don’t know how the hell Bruce managed it. But good for him.”

They were good kids before Bruce Wayne. They would’ve been good kids without Bruce Wayne.

But Jason’s ready to acknowledge, in the privacy of his own head, that maybe they’d also all be dead kids without Bruce Wayne.

Tony Stark stays for a month and a half. He and Bruce spend the last week fighting, loudly and dramatically, over every single improvement Tony’s made to the Batcave while Bruce was too busy trying not to throw up on his shoes to stop him. Jason and Roy sneak down to watch, but Roy keeps getting antsy and dragging Jason out before things can get too heated.

“You’re just not ready,” Roy tells him, earnestly. “Your virgin eyes, Jason. I mean it.”

“My virgin what?” Jason asks, incredulous.

“Your slutty eyes,” Roy amends, conciliatory.

“That’s—wow.” Jason stares at him. “That’s even worse.”

“Aw, c’mon, baby,” Roy says, mock-apologetic. “You know I love how slutty you are.”

“Great,” Jason says. “Awesome. So, we’re breaking up. You can move out tonight. Never speak to me again. It’s been terrible, and I won’t miss you at all.”

“Oh no,” Roy says, eyes wide, sounding so legitimately devastated that Jason has to kiss him, immediately.

Roy snickers into his mouth, which really underscores to Jason how out of his depth he is, how much of him Roy owns completely.

“I hate you,” Jason tells him, because it’s been years but I love you still feels like a jinx, like an invitation to the universe to break his fucking heart.

Roy grins at him, immensely pleased with himself. “Hell yes,” he says, “I love hate sex. Let’s go.”

Jason’s not an idiot. He has an idea of what’s going on. He knows two adult men don’t spend that much time together passionately discussing differences of opinion on technical innovation unless they plan to get naked at some point. He knows what it means when Tony’s eyes go warm and distant like they do sometimes when he talks about Bruce. He knows what it means that Tony’s here at all.

It’s just that he figures Bruce Wayne is fucking everything up, the way he always does. He figures Bruce is crashing headlong through the world in grim, determined pursuit of the best, fastest, most justice-glorifying path from Point A to Point B without realizing that Point C has more merits than he deserves.

He figures it’s one-sided. He figures Bruce is going to break Tony’s heart. He figures Tony’s going to let him, has been letting him.

And then he turns a corner on Tony’s last morning in town and walks right into the kind of goodbye kiss that needs an age restriction warning.

“Oh, Christ,” Jason says and slams his eyes shut. A second later, Roy’s hand slaps down hard across his face, palm wrapping protectively across his eyes. It stings a little, honestly, but Jason forgives him for it. He just wishes he’d been faster.

“Oh God,” Roy says, “I warned you! I told you it’s like walking in on your parents!”

“Stop it.” Jason hisses through his teeth, clinging to Roy’s arm. “Get me out of here, fuck’s sake.”

“Your kids are so cute, Bruce,” Tony says. Jason feels endlessly betrayed by the smug amusement in his voice. He’s been fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with this man for a month and a half, and he had no idea he was such a shameless philanderer.

Jesus, just tongue-deep in each other’s mouths right in the hallway, where God and Alfred and Damian could walk by at any moment.

“Only one of those is mine,” Bruce says. He sounds – terrifyingly – like he is out of breath.

Jason wretches, audibly. Roy hauls him against his chest and starts dragging him to safety, back the way they came.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tony says. His voice is deliberately pitched loud enough to follow them. “Looks like you’ve practically got yourself a son-in-law.”

“Roy,” Jason says, “just kill me. I’m done with this earth.”

“Aw, Jay,” Roy says, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Jason’s head, “don’t give up. We’ll go find the Scarecrow, see if he can bleach it outta your head with more of that fear toxin.”

“God willing,” Jason says, low and fervent. 

Jason and Roy go out a window on the second floor, just to be sure they don’t run into Tony and Bruce defiling any other hallways with their goodbyes. Jason’s not proud of it. But he’s finally learned the merits of a well-executed retreat.

It turns out to be unnecessary though, because Tony’s already down in the driveway, climbing into an offensively beautiful red sports car. Jason braces a hand against Roy’s chest to keep him from throwing himself at the hood to get to the engine.

“Hey, kids,” Tony calls, waving jovially. His mouth is very red. Jason is prepared, at this moment, to offer his soul to the multiverse.

“Hey,” Roy says, voice reverent, eyes running all over the car with a licentiousness that would make Jason blind with jealousy if he were looking at a human being.

“Last time Bruce fooled around with someone,” Jason says, “he spawned the Antichrist. So you just think about that the next time you mix your bodily fluids.”

“Oh no, my girlish figure.” Tony does not seem to be taking this as seriously as Jason means it.

“Bodily fluids,” Roy says, under his breath. He doesn’t seem to be taking it seriously, either.

Jason curls his hands around the car door, pins Tony with a look of grave concern. “Listen,” he says. “You deserve so much better than that shithead in there. He’s a disaster. He is the definition of emotional constipation. He knows everyone’s blood type and nobody’s birthday, and he gives up kidney stones easier than personal information, and he absolutely has a plan for how to neutralize you if necessary, and he honestly, legitimately, no-shit thinks that’s what teamwork means.”

“Kiddo, pal, Red Hoodlum,” Tony says, giving Jason’s hand an encouraging pat. “That’s my emotionally constipated shithead disaster in there, and I’d thank you to remember it.”

Sometimes, there’s nothing you can do to save people from themselves.

Jason steps away from the car and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry you’ve chosen to do this to yourself,” he says. “You seem like a perfectly decent human being.”

“It’s been a real treasure working with you, too, scout,” Tony says. He glances over Jason’s shoulder toward Roy and smiles wider. “And, hey, Wayne-In-Law, if you ever want to talk shop some more, swing by SI. You’d love the labs.”

“Oh my God,” Roy says, very quietly. And then, louder, “Oh, okay, sure! Maybe! Next time I’m in town.”

Tony nods, smiles again, and then turns toward the manor and blows a giant, ridiculous kiss over his shoulder.

And Jason thinks he’s an idiot, thinks he’s just asking to get his heart broken, but there, on the third floor, is the subtle but unmissable shift of curtains falling back. Bruce Wayne was up there, lurking through a final goodbye, and Jason honestly needs to get out of this town immediately.

He climbs on his bike, waits for Roy to do the same. And then, just to see how far this lunacy has spread, he texts Grayson: Did you know Stark and Bruce are fucking?

Dick texts back a string of fruit-themed emojis that Jason instantaneously blanks from his brain. A second later, Dick sends: You didn’t see the pics from Stark Expo???

“Roy,” Jason says, “I love you. Let’s go somewhere with no wifi signal.”

[batfam-imagines]

Second Chance

Prompt:  Jason's s/o is shot accidentally when a street kid mugs her and Jason arrests the kid and takes his s/o to the hospital and when the s/o wakes up she convinces Jason to bail the kid out and let him stay in their apartment because she doesn't blame him for shooting her and he's just a kid who is trying to survive on the street. At first Jason doesn't like the idea (because the kid shot his s/o) but then he realizes that the kid is kinda like him when he was younger and just family fluff

----------

Being held at gunpoint is never fun, especially when it’s by a kid who’s seven, maybe eight years old. A kid who obviously lives on the streets.

“Give me your wallet lady!” He shouts, his hands were trembling. He had probably never held a gun before.

“Why should I do that? You didn’t even say please.” You cross your arms over your chest.

The kid looks at you incredulously, “But I have a gun, you have to do what I say!”

“I don’t think I do. You might have a gun, but just by the way you’re holding it I can tell that you’ve never shot one before. Do you usually single out women? People who you think are weaker than you?”

The kid sniffles, “Please …”

You sigh, “How about I take you to get something to eat? How does that sound?”

He stiffens, his finger tightening on the gun slightly. You have to admit, the kids smart, no way would he have been able to survive on the streets if he wasn’t wary of strangers, “What’s in it for you?”

“Well, I get to keep my driver’s license, and I get a gun out of my face. That’s enough incentive for me, kid”

Suddenly the kids eyes widen and you hear a thud as someone hits the ground behind you. “Step back! Don’t make me shoot her!”

“I wouldn’t do that, kid. She might have been nice enough to buy you dinner, but the cops are already on their way. I suggest you put the gun down, and just calm down”

Tears streak down the kids face, “I don’t want to hurt her, just let me go!”

“Hood, Kid …”

“Alex, my name’s Alex”

“My name’s Y/N. Alex, just put the gun down, Hood won’t hurt you. I promise” As you’re talking Jason is inching towards Alex, “Everything will be fine, but I need you to put the gun down”

Jason lunges forward, Alex screams and his finger accidentally tightens on the trigger. You scream when the bullet tears through your arm, shattering the bone when it goes all the way through. You can hear the kid crying, Jason shouting, and police sirens.

“Y/N! Y/N, sweetheart, you need to stay awake, alright. The kid’s in police custody, I’m going to take you to the hospital. We’ll be there soon, doll, the doctors will take care of you”

His voice fades out for a while, the next thing you remember is being laid down on a gurney, the bright lights hurting your eyes. There’s a tiny prick in your good arm, and then there’s nothing.

--

You wake up to a dull throbbing pain in your arm, and Jason sitting in the chair next to you. “Hey, Jay”

“Y/N, your awake!”

“Of course I am; it was just a shot in the arm”

Jason pulls your good hand up and kisses it, “Not quite just a bullet, the kid almost blew off your entire arm. The doctors thought they would have to amputate for a little while. Thankfully they managed to reattach all of the blood vessels, and they put a metal plate in your arm to stabilize the bone”

You hum quietly, “That’s a bit more damage than I expected. What happened to Alex?”

“Alex? The kid? He’s in jail right now, where he should be for attempting to mug someone”

You push up, grabbing Jason, “You have to get him out of there. He’s just a scared kid, bail him out, and bring him to the apartment, and get him something to eat and wear. Then I want you to bring him here to visit me”

“Are you fucking nuts?!?” He shouts, “That little brat shot you! And you expect me to bail him out, feed him, and then bring him here!”

You sigh, “He’s just a kid. He was trying to survive on the streets. He’s alone, hungry, and scared. If you don’t go get him, then I will check myself out of his hospital and go get him myself!”

Jason growled, “Fine, as long as you promise to rest while I’m gone. I’ll send you a text when I get him, and then when we get ready to head here.”

You nod, leaning back against the bed and closing your eyes, “Thank you, Jay”

--

When Jason shows up at the GCPD and pays to bail out a street kid, he gets a few weird looks, and for a minute Jason thinks that the kid is going to refuse to go with him.

“Come on, kid. Y/N said that I had to take you out to eat before I take you to the hospital to visit her”

Alex sniffles, whipping his eyes, “I-I’m so sorry f-for hurting her. I-I didn’t m-mean to; I-I was just s-so hungry”

Jason sighs and pulls the kid into a hug, “I know you didn’t, and she doesn’t blame you”

Alex grips the back of Jason jacket tightly, “D-do you … Hood?”

Jason chuckles, “My name’s Jason, but Y/N calls me Jay. And no, I don’t blame you. Now come on, let’s get you some food, and some cloths, and then we can go visit Y/N”

--

Spending the day with Alex turns out to be a lot of fun. The kid has a razor sharp wit, and isn’t afraid of speaking him mind. It turns out the kid is eight years old and he’s been on the streets since he was four. Jason can’t help but see himself in the kid, and that really helps soften Jason up to the kid.

“You mean I can have both of these?!”

Jason chuckles, “You can have the shoes too, kid. Now come on, my adoptive dad will have the rest of the cloths delivered to my apartment. He’s already said that I have to bring you to the Manor to meet everyone”

“Manor?”

“My adoptive dad is Bruce Wayne. He wants to meet you and so do my brothers”

Tears fill Alex’s eyes, “You want to keep me? I don’t have to go back to the streets?”

Jason kneels down and wraps the kid in his arms, “No, Alex, you get to stay with me and Y/N, you don’t ever have to back there”

“Thank you” Alex sobs

“Settle down, kid. Let’s head to the house, you can get cleaned up and changed and then we can go to the hospital. Y/N’s already eager to see you”

--

As soon as Alex gets to the hospital, he runs straight into Y/N’s room. “Y/N!”

You sit up quickly, “Alex!”

He stops on the edge on your bed, his eyes locked on your sling and the bandages that wrap around your entire upper arm, “I-I did that?”

“You didn’t mean to, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. I just need some rest and rehab and I’ll be as good as new”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-I promise to help you get better, you won’t have to worry about anything!”

You chuckle, “Thank you, Alex. I would really appreciate help when I get out of here. Jason will have to go back to work, so it’ll just be the two of us at the apartment.”

The rest of the evening is spent getting to know each other, and it turns out that Alex is the perfect fit for their little family. Eventually Alex falls asleep, and Jason leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “I think he’ll fit perfectly”

You grin up at him, “Yeah, I think he will”

“You know … I’m really glad that you had me bail him out”

“I’m glad you listened”

Jason gives you one more kiss before he walks over and picks up Alex, cradling the kid in his arms, “We’ll be back to visit you tomorrow, Bruce should have had enough time to get his room set up”

You chuckle and wave your good hand, “Goodnight, Jay. I love you!”

“I love you too sweetheart”