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Tinman and GirlBat (5/?)

It’s a planet on the outer rim. Populated well enough but too steeped in the illegal for anyone else to draw attention to themselves to draw attention to someone else. The Guild may be off his tail but what’s left of the Empire isn’t. And Din can’t take any chances.


Din wonders what it is about the child that they want so much. Sure it’s powerful but can it really do things that they can achieve with sufficient weaponry? He wonders if he would ever know.


But for now, he’s searching through the markets for food, because a growing baby can’t live on ration packs. Or shouldn’t at least. The kid clearly prefers his food alive or at least fresh.


Stephanie’s face the first time she’d seen the kid hawk down a live frog had been absolutely priceless. And Din has a secret holo with her shuddering as the kid slurps down the legs. He also has a holo of both of them as Stephanie herds frogs toward the kid so he can catch them. The kid had been so stuffed after Din had been sure he could roll him around like a ball.


But not every planet has an abundance of frogs or small enough creatures for his adika to hunt so they’re here, trying to find something with meat or bones that would keep in space. And of course, appeal to tiny green pallets.


Stephanie, kid on her hip, and that’s a habit he’ll need to break before it gets started, is wandering close enough to him but ranging every now and then whenever the kid’s attention is grabbed by something sparkly.


At present his adika is at another stall, tiny hands batting at a wind-chime made of coloured glass that tinkles when they move. His ears are perked up as high as they can go and Din secretly hopes they’ll be able to leave the planet without buying the thing. (It will drive him insane within a day, he knows.)


Stephanie makes appropriate oohs and ahhs but manages to extract the child without buying anything.


They drift back next to him and Din takes the opportunity to see what the kid thinks of the vacuum-sealed pouches of meat he’s been inspecting. The kid takes one that Din hands him, looks down at it, and then back at Din, ears cocked curiously. He offers it back to Din and he takes it and then gestures to the owner that he’ll take five. Indifference is better than hatred and Stephanie had insisted on a little variety in the child’s meals anyway.


He’s at another stall parsing the section of cured frog legs when he becomes aware of the threat. It’s nothing overt, simply shadows that slip out of the corner of his viewfinder, that niggling feeling of being watched. He pays for some of the legs absentmindedly, head swiveling to find his kid and the kid’s babysitter while trying to not alert his followers that he’s on to them.


He’s mentally cursing himself for letting them wander at all but it had seemed fine and Stephanie had always taken care to keep the kid close enough to him.


He finds the pair in the next second, two stalls down and across the lane, the kid enamored with a selection of mirrors.


Before he can do or say anything, Stephanie points at something on the other side of the stall and moves over, twisting between people and ducking under the awning. It takes them right out of the line of sight of any potential mercenaries or assassins and Din breathes a quick sigh of relief.


This gives him time.


He makes one more visual sweep to mark the most obvious targets and then he’s moving. He sinks into the crowd, using awnings and stalls to obscure his movements, and the moment he has a chance he slips away, ducks into an alley lining the marketplace. He’s right on time.


One of the figures going for the kid jumps the gap between the roofs.


He doesn’t make it. Not with Din’s grapple wrapping around his ankle, dragging him down to meet dirt in a punishing fall.


The mercenary tries to get up but Din introduces him to his elbow and then follows up with two fists to the solar plexus. The armor the mercenary wears gives him some protection but his head is bare so Din blocks a thrown punch and slams a fist into the man’s chin.


His head snaps back and he stumbles, halfway to passing out. Din wraps his hands around the man’s head and twists sharp and hard. The crack is loud but not as loud as a blaster would have been. The mercenary drops and Din is moving again. The whole thing had taken less than a minute but it’s more than enough time for Stephanie and the kid to have moved out of shelter.


He darts through the maze of alleyways and emerges ahead of where Stephanie and the kid should be, only they’re not under the awning anymore.


He has a moment of pure, blind panic, heart hammering against his breastplate before he hears a soft coo behind him, further up the street.


He spins wildly and finds the pair at another stall, half-hidden in the billows of cloth that the owner is displaying. The child is practically buried in a ripple of green cloth his same shade, shot through with silver threads, while Stephanie is fingering a bolt of purple cloth, lifting it up to the sun and incidentally hiding them completely once more. Din sucks in a strangled breath and takes the spot of good luck for the gift it is.


By the time Stephanie has finished her too-lengthy examination of the cloth Din has taken down the assassin on the roof opposite them and is dealing with another mercenary in the alley ground.


When he re-emerges from the alley the pair have moved on, stopping at a food stall and Din has to work to find them in the crowd, and even then it is only Stephanie’s blond hair he spots, the child hidden by a long bunch of some foreign fruit.


Din has no idea how much longer this stupid string of luck will last but he’s rolling with it. He can take down their attackers as long as the kid is out of sightlines and as long as he can keep them from closing a physical distance.


He sees a shadow slinking through the crowd and slides after it, catching up to the sentient, crushing its wrist bones and hitting their throat with a quick motion, forcing them to drop the blaster while unable to make a sound and drags them off behind a stall where he can finish them off quickly. The crowd around him murmurs but not too much. This isn’t exactly out of the ordinary for the people here.


Din finishes that mercenary quickly and spots a familiar face in the crowd, a bounty hunter who’d been kicked from the guild. The rodian is close to Stephanie and the child who have moved on from the fruit stall, and are twining through a group of devaronians who are tall enough to disrupt further line of sight from the one sniper remaining that Din can see. He feels bad but at the same time Din is relieved to see that Stephanie has the child on the other side of the sniper and is angled in such a way that the sniper would have to hit her first before getting to the kid. Rodian first, though. He’s getting far too close to the pair.


Din shoulders his way through the crowd, eye on the sniper in case he decided to take Din down before his target. Still, even with a Mandalorian in full beskar shoving their full weight through the crowd, Din is not going to reach them in time. In desperation he grabs the blaster, he’d ignored in hopes of not starting a full-scale shootout in the marketplace and takes aim.


It’s not a clear shot but Din was willing to risk it for the kid. His finger begins to squeeze on the trigger when the Rodian goes down. Din blinks, hears Stephanie’s voice cheerily apologize for tripping up her attacker, even as she doesn’t stop walking, probably afraid that the rodian would take offense and try to attack them. The irony is not lost on Din.


But with the time, the rodian loses while wallowing on the ground, Din catches up to him easily and quite as easily, slides a knife into his exposed throat.


That only leaves the sniper.


The kid and his babysitter have left the protection of their devaronian shoppers but they’re once more ensconced in another stall, getting drinks and protected by awnings and other thirsty sentients.


Din doesn’t waste time. Neither does the sniper, who upon seeing the helmet’s sights turned to him, decided that discretion was the better part of valour and booked it. Din dashed after him, managed to pin him in the alleyway as he came off the roof, and finally used his blaster for the day, ending it all in a matter of seconds.


Then he was darting back to the stalls and threading his way back to where he’d last seen the child and Stephanie. He found them still there, now having received the fruity drinks.


“Hey,” Stephanie says, “I thought we lost you for a second there.” Din doesn’t know if to laugh or cry.


“I was around,” He replies and holds out his arms for the kid, needing to feel him, to know he was alright. Steph hands over the kid easily even though they have to navigate carefully to ensure they don’t spill the little cup the kid is holding.


“I think we have everything we need from here,” Din says. “We’re leaving.”


Stephanie blinks but then shrugs, “Okay.” She follows him back to the Razorcrest without comment and they leave as fast as Din can get through the starting sequence. That was way, way, too close

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Honestly I think it might’ve been because there’s a lot of cross over between Batman fans and Bucky/Steve/marvel fans.

To be more precise, it might’ve been when I glanced at @venusbarnes rec list and saw she had Jason Todd fics there. Then I looked up his story and was really intrigued.

I’ve always been a pretty big Batman fan. Especially when I was a child, so I was naturally curious.

And now I’m in love 😂🤣

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the batfam as the office characters pt. 1

bruce - stanley (or david wallace)


duke - oscar


damian - dwight (or gabe tbh)


jason - ryan


dick - jim


alfred - darrel


cass - erin


tim - pete


steph - kelly

barb - pam (or karen)

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A3O

Summary: Jason wakes up strapped up to a cot in the cave. He only knows one thing. He can’t trust Bruce.

Whumptober day one: waking up restrained.

Notes:  I so I decided to do whumptober at the end of the month, so I’ll probably end the prompts in November/December (and maybe even later). I’m also not doing them in the right order because at this point, I’m not really doing the challenge (though, the rules said it’s okay to just use the prompts, even after October, so I’m gonna do that.). Also, it’s not exactly whump? More like hurt/comfort. Anyway, enjoy the fic !    

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