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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.”

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf.

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels.

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons.

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be.

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

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+ Childhood

#father of mine bonus content #father of mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batman x daughter #batman x daughter!reader #bruce wayne's daughter #batman's daughter #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #clark kent x platonic!reader #superman x platonic!reader

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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years

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My Life is One Complication After Another

Inspired by this post by @dolphin-ghost

Happy New Year everyone

Some cursing 🤬

Ao3 ~~~ Part 1 ~~~ Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette has always been willing to give everyone a second chance. That may have been why she still had people to consider them as her friends. That is why when Lila started yet another lie about some celebrity she, Adrien, Chloe, and Juleka were holding their laughter and rolled their eyes.

"Honest Alya I'm like this" Lila crossed her fingers "with Bruce's kids." Alya must not have recognized the name as the liar gave a small laugh "oh, right Bruce Wayne, he prefers to only go by Bruce."

"Oh my God, Girl you have got to give me an interview for my blog!" Alya lapped up the story.

"Of course" Lila smiled, then looked over at Marinette "Anything for my best friend."

At this point, Marinette wasn't paying attention to the liar. Instead Mari was talking in low voices with her actual best friend, Adrien. They sat on the very back bench and Juleka and Chloe on the bench in front of them.

That was their normal, it had been since their eighth year. Now two years later it was routine, her classmates shunned her only talking with her for class assignments. Otherwise they ignored her and that may just have been the best outcome.

She, Chloe, Juleka, Luka, and Adrien were in the park working on a photoshoot. Adrien was behind the camera while Juleka and Luka were modeling. Marinette and Chloe were changing for the next set. When they came out Mari noticed several reporters around the perimeter. Security had them handled and she focused on modeling her creation.

However this wasn't the last she saw of the reporters. They were always at the school questioning the students. What they were asking she didn't know as she was never questioned.

Three weeks of spotting and avoiding reporters, with them swarming the school she needed to get creative in order to transform. Lila was of course bathing in the limelight and attention.

Mari was the last person out of the school as she was getting the homework for her three friends who didn't come today. The first thing she noticed coming out of the courtyard was the purple limo. Her honorary uncle came to pick her up. As soon as the door closed said uncle was crushing her in a hug.

"It's Rock' n to see ya Nettie" Jagged spoke, the hug muffling his voice slightly.

"Same here Jagged," wiggling out of Jagged's hug she reached over to hug Penny. "so what's with the escort?"

"A close friend of ours wanted to meet you and He and his son's are waiting at our room," Penny explained.

"Okay..." she hesitated exiting the car to head inside "but why? Is this a commission or what?"

After a silent elevator ride, Penny hesitated at the door before speaking. "We are hoping you could clear something up actually," as she opened the door.

Mari stepped in and noticed them. The eldest looked to be around mid to late thirties, black hair and bluebell eyes, dressed in a dark charcoal suit.

The youngest of the boys seemed to be a couple years younger than her, shorter than her by a head, tanned skin, short black hair, and jade eyes. A scowl on his face partially hidden by the collar of a black peacoat and slacks as he sat on the arm chair.

A boy around her age with chin length black hair and azure eyes, a red hoodie under a grey bomber jacket and black pants. He looked like he hadn't slept in at least a week, and if how he was holding the travel mug in his hands it was probably true.

Next to him was another boy who looked a couple of years older, black messy hair about 5 cm at the longest and a white tuff in front, cerulean eyes, a brown leather jacket and distressed jeans. He seemed familiar but couldn't place it.

The last boy also had long black hair but seemed to be layered and shorter in the front, sky blue eyes, a blue varsity jacket and jeans. He would either be the eldest or second, he had a bright smile but kept shooting a glance at Fang.

Speaking of which once she was in the room and she saw him, he charged at her, knocking her over. Mari was giggling as Fang rolled over and she was lost to the world as she doted on the crocodile.

"Nettie" Penny finally managed to get her attention.

"Sorry," she stood "but if it wasn't done we wouldn't be able to talk. Hello I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng it is nice to meet you." again she smiled.

"Bruce Wayne" the man introduced himself, "and my sons. My youngest Damian." he gestured to the boy with green eyes. "Next is Tim" gesturing to the boy with the mug who rose it in acknowledgment. "Jason is the second oldest" the boy with the white tuff gave a lop sided smile. "And my eldest Dick" whose smile seemed to become brighter.

She smiled nodding at everyone before realization hit. A quick snap of her fingers before pulling out her phone, opened up her texts and started typing, ending with a quick picture of Jason.

I think I just met your idiot friend

She put away her phone. Not even a minute later another went off.

The ringing stopped once, twice, thrice, and on the fourth Jason, spoke up. "Sorry I should take this."

"Go ahead this can wait a moment." Mari smiled.

As soon as Jason answered the phone "What the hell are you doing in Paris!?" everyone heard the caller as Jason was holding the phone an arm length away.

"How did you know... you?!" it dawned on Jason.

"Guilty," she smiled. "I guess you're not as big of an idiot as Roy made you out to be."

"Hey!" Jason called before turning to the phone. "What the hell did you tell her Harper!" By now Roy was on speaker.

"You can't prove what I said, ya know," she could practically see Roy's smirk.

"Video's however," she was now smirking.

"What!!" Jason seemed to freeze.

"Bug! No!" Roy was sounding like he was going to start panicking.

"I think I have a few saved," she tapped her chin.

That was when Bruce cleared his throat. "As amusing as this is we have business to discuss."

"Talk to ya later Mari." Roy bid her farewell. "Oh and Jason don't underestimate her." the call ended.

"Okay so how do you know Roy?" Dick finally asked.

"Oh. It was at a charity ball hosted by Oliver Queen," she replied nonchalantly.

"Was it the same one where a baby elephant ended up at the event. Following you the whole time." Penny asked exasperated.

"I still don't get how you think we had anything to do with that." Marinette finally sat down. She ended up sitting on the ground leaning against the couch next to Jagged, Fang resting his head on her out stretched legs.

"I have so many questions,” Tim finally added to the conversation.

"Tt. can we stop beating around the bush already," Damian was irritated and it showed. "Are you or are you not my biological sister."

He seemed ready to pounce, unfortunately that was dangerous in Paris. Especially as she saw an akuma right outside the window. The question asked now forgotten as she focused on the corrupted butterfly.

"Nope, Nope. I am not dealing with an akuma today." she stood up. Took a deep breath and let her anger and frustrations to the surface. The smile fell from her face. "If you want a puppet have a marionette" Kwamii Adrien is rubbing off on me.

The butterfly changed targets and was heading towards her, finally gaining the other's attention. She vaulted over the couch and made a beeline to her backpack. By then the akuma was close so she tossed the backpack over to everyone and rolled out of the way.

"Glass jar, unscrew it" she called out.

"How pathetic running from a bug." Damian moved quickly to catch the butterfly but it moved and found something in his pocket. He was engulfed in purple and then he stood there in evergreen armor with golden accents. A red and yellow cape and a pitch black sword in his hand. Pocket knife, the sword is where the akuma is.

"Screw it" she turned and with two quick jabs his two arms went limp. A third knocked him to the ground.

She picked up the sword and went to Dick who was holding the jar. She took the jar, broke the sword, and went to catch the butterfly. As soon as she screwed the lid on the butterfly began to turn white.

She let out the breath she was holding as she compartmentalized her emotions yet again.

"What the fuck was that!" Jason screamed and so did Dick, minus the curse.

"Where and why do you have one of those," Jagged asked.

Finally Damian shouted "Why can I not move? What did you do?" he accused.

"Okay so the butterfly was an akuma used by Hawkmoth, Paris’ villain, to manipulate anyone with strong negative emotions. These champions or Akuma are used to attempt to retrieve magical jewels from our heroes. The jar was given to me and a few others in my class, because our class is a hot bed for akuma, by Ladybug, one of the heroes." she gave a short and simple run down. "As for Damian, those were a series of pressure points,” infused with magic to-take down people easily, "it should wear off in a few minutes."

"Teach me please!" Tim begged.

"I dunno." she started to chew her lip and shift her weight.

"Roy's warning now makes a lot more sense," Jason hummed.

"Tt. adequate," Damian muttered softly, Marinette is sure she is the only one who heard.

"Okay so where were we?" she smiled turning and sitting back down with Fang.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @dolphin-ghost @unabashedbookworm @bookgirl14 @laurcad123 @mochegato @vixen-uchiha

#dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #maribat #ml marinette #roynette #friend!adrien #bio!dad bruce #MLiOCAA

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night-fallz · 3 years

Text

We’re Tired of Him

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

We’re Tired of Him (part 4)

Damian and Dick were late and Tim was starting to get impatient. How long could it take to retrieve the stupid brat?

Distantly, he heard the elevator bell ring, signaling that someone was going up, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from widening with glee.

Finally.

A few more minutes and Damian’s secrets would be theirs for the taking.

The doors opened and everyone went to their stations, discreetly watching as Damian sat on the only empty seat left.

They specifically left that seat open so that Damian would be in the middle of the room. That way everyone can keep an eye on him and Damian would be able to feel the pressure of everyone’s eyes on him.

The kid’s face was blank but Tim could see the confusion laying in his eyes.

He couldn’t help the small smirk that formed on his face. Of course Damian would be confused. He’s probably never been in Titans Tower when there hasn’t been a mission.

Hell, Tim bets that no one has ever willingly hung out with him before.

The heavy air of silence was interrupted with Damian’s question, "Don't you guys have a movie to watch?"

"It was closed." Crush said, not wanting to answer Damian’s stupid questions.

Damian’s eyebrows furrowed, "How would it be closed? It's barely 10 o'clock."

Tim rolled his eyes, interrupting whatever Jason was saying with a cold, "Don't I get a welcome, Demon?" When Damian didn’t answer, he continued. “Plus, last time I checked, you didn't know what cinema they were going to, so how would you know what time it would close."

Tim knew he won when Damian rolled his eyes right back. "Tt, whatever."

He stared at Tim with a bored expression for a few seconds before turning to Dick. "Can I go now?" When their oldest brother didn’t reply, Damian hesitantly continued. "I just remembered that I had to do something."

This time, Tim couldn’t stop himself from scoffing. It was such an obvious lie.

All the assassin training that Damian always bragged about and that was what came out of his mouth?

He was honestly disappointed.

Plus, even if Damian said that confidently. No one in the room would even believe that Damian had plans.

The brat’s life consisted off of training, school, and being Robin. There was also no way that anyone would want to hang out with Damian.

His dad might be Bruce Wayne, but the kid’s attitude was enough to turn everyone away.

After Damian finally realized that he wasn’t going to get an answer, Tim watched as he got up from his chair, walking towards the exit.

He notices Dick signaling for someone to block the door and he didn’t bother to try and stop the smug feeling from spreading across his body as he watched the brat’s face shrivel with uncertainty the moment he realized that he wouldn’t be able to leave.

Damian turned around, his eyes glaring at everyone who would meet his gaze. "What do you guys want?"

Though, the intensity of the glare faded away when Damian’s voice cracked, filled with insecurity.

The night has only just started and the entitled prince’s facade was already breaking.

Jason leaned forward, a mug in his hand as he spoke. "I don't know what they want, but can you try this? Alfred gave me the recipe."

Everyone watched as Damian narrowed his eyes at the drink. From the corner of his eye, he noticed some of the girls blush as Damian ran his hands through his damp hair.

It was a sign of nervousness, he realized. Tim made sure to file that information in his head for later exploration.

Knowing when the demon brat got jitters would make amazing blackmail material.

His thought process were cut off with Damian’s arrogant voice. “And I should care about that because…?"

Tim grit his teeth. He hated how Damian acted like he was holding the cards in this conversation.

He wasn’t!

Tim and the others were. That was the only reason that Tim hasn’t blown up and ripped the brat to pieces.

Crush continued to provoke Damian. "Please don't tell me that you're scared."

Damian scoffed before pausing, not answering the question.

It was the wrong move.

The fact that Damian didn't answer only boosted everyone's confidence.

After all, it wasn’t everyday that Damian Wayne had nothing to say.

Jason walked up to Damian, the mug in his hand. Damian’s gaze never even left the object.

The brat warily looked around. He wasn’t even trying to hide his confusion anymore. It was just becoming too obvious.

"You know," Emiko said. A blind man would be able to see just how much she enjoyed taunting Damian. And Tim couldn’t find it in himself to blame her. "What would happen if your father heard the fact that you declined a drink that your brother obviously worked hard on just for you?"

She let out a gasp that was so fake that even Damian would be able to tell that it was supposed to be mocking him. "Oh! What would the League do?"

It was the perfect opening and Tim couldn’t help but step in, his eyes desperately wanting to see Damian twitch uncomfortably. "If dad found out, you would probably be banned from patrol…” Damian clenched his fists and he couldn’t help but add an “again."

Tim’s face grew into a smirk as he relished in the laughter. This was payback for everything Damian did. And trust him when he says that this was only the beginning.

It didn’t even take a minute before Damian snatched the white mug, ironically covered with bats from Jason’s hand.

Tim’s smile widened, he knew that Damian would take the drink. Just like the other Robins before him, Damian was desperate for Batman’s approval as well. The kid didn’t want to let his dad down.

And to make this whole situation even better, if Damian ever finds out about this whole scheme, Tim knows that he can probably spin the story so that everyone but Damian won’t get in trouble.

It’s not like it would be hard.

Damian was the one stupid enough to give into the taunts and didn’t check if the drink was drugged or not.

Bruce would be disappointed.

Damian drank the drink in a few seconds. The kid opened his mouth but before a word could escape, he crumpled down.

Sadly, Jason was there to catch him before his head hit the ground, carefully laying Damian down on the couch.

Wally groaned, “You should’ve let the brat fall.” he complained, “It wouldn’t have hurt him.”

Jason's eyes glowed green as he glared at the speedster. “Watch your tone, West. As bratty as he might be, this kid is still my brother.”

Wally gulped before nodding so fast that Tim thought his head would fall off. Jason might not be killing anyone anymore, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was still frightening.

Tim paused, replaying Jason’s words in his head, before frowning, jealousy spreading all over his body.

Damian already had Dick backing him up, he didn’t need Jason too. It was an unspoken rule that Tim thought the bats all knew.

Dick was Damian’s older brother, while Jason was Tim’s. That was how it worked.

And it's worked pretty well so far. Ever since Dick replaced him with Damian, he and Jason were got closer.

They had movie nights and Jason taught Tim how to cook!

He was so sure that Jason didn’t even care about Damian. He ran the calculations through his head.

If Jason and Dick started to like Damian more than Tim, then they would get rid of him again. Tim would be alone.

He bit his lip to stop his mouth from talking, focusing on the camera Wally was setting up. That way, they’d have materialistic proof of Damian’s vulnerability and humiliation.

It was blackmail material that Tim knows he’d treasure like a lifeline.

Now that he thought about it, maybe Tim could use this video to sabotage whatever brotherly relationship Jason and Damian had.

He’d tell Damian to ignore Jason and to act every brattier towards their brother.

Jason’s patience for the brat would run out and he would Tim’s older brother again.

And this time, he would only be Tim’s.

When Wally was finished his lips formed a small smirk. He watched as a sadistic glint entered the speedster’s eyes. “So, who wants to go first?”

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

notes:

I am so, so sorry that this chapter took forever to release. Balancing out school and volleyball was so much harder than I thought it would be.

I’m gonna spend the weekend to try and get my life together so that next everything will hopefully be easier on me.

This chapter was pretty short but it did give some insight into Tim’s thoughts about this whole situation.

If you couldn’t tell, they’re not very pretty.

Tim and Damian never made up in this universe. And trying to kill Tim multiple times makes it hard for Tim to try and forgive Damian.

I know that this chapter kinda sucked but I wanted to put something out before things get even busier. so hopefully you somewhat enjoyed it.

Like always, please leave a comment. i love reading them and they just motivate me so much! And they would help an extra ton these days.

And once again, if you have any fanfic requests, questions, or just suggestions for a specific fanfic I’m writing, just leave it in a comment down below or you can just message me here on tumblr.

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

Text

That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1

So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.

Summary:

"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

AO3 Link

Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.

What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.

The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.

When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.

Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.

The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.

Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.

While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.

After that it was a matter of waiting.

Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.

How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.

Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.

“Timothy.” the man drawled.

“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.

He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.

Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”

The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?

“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.

He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."

At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”

He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.

“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”

Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”

Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”

“Dad.” Tim interjected.

The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”

“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”

Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.

He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.

Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.

He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.

This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).

Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.

He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.

When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.

Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.

They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.

“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”

He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”

Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”

She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”

“I hope so.” Tim said.

The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.

“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”

Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.

“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”

“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.

Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.

Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.

He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.

At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.

They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.

He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.

“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”

Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.

The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.

“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”

Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.

“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”

Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.

“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”

Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”

Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”

“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.

He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”

“It’s only one trial--”

“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.

“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.

Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.

“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.

Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”

He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.

“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”

Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.

He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.

The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.

And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.

He gingerly pulled one out to examine.

“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.

Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.

“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”

“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”

Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”

The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”

Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?

No.

No. Freaking. Way.

“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”

“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”

Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”

“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”

“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”

The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”

“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”

He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.

Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.

The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”

Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”

“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.

Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.

But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.

“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”

“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.

“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”

The man’s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”

Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.

As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.

Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.

Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.

“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.

“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.

Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”

“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.

The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”

Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?

“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”

“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”

Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.

“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”

The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”

Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?

Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.

One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).

Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.

It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.

Tim: Want to cause some chaos?

Immediately he received a response:

Steph: Always

Cass: Who are we going after?

Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:

Tim: Ra’s.

Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?

Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene

Tim: There’s more.

Cass: Tell.

The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.

Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.

The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.

“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.

“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”

“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”

Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”

Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”

Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.

Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”

“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”

“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.

Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”

The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.

Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.

“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.

“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”

Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”

Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”

“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.

“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.

“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”

They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.

It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.

A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.

Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.

At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”

The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”

Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.

Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.

#Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain #Batfamily #fanfiction #crack #crack treated seriously #multimedia fic #humor #kidnapping attempts #revenge plots #Ra's tries to recruit tim #Spoilers it backfires #what is canon #precious posts #long post #chapter 1

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ramos123 · 3 years

Text

Congrats on the engagement part 2

So this took longer than expected so without further do let's go

Omg that sounded like a intro youtubers do

First part

When they stopped they saw a building on fire. It turned out to be Marinette's boutique. Of course, she had money and could easily rebuild it if she wanted to. But the miracle box along with the kwamis and the grimoire was still inside. And they were irreplaceable since they were the last ones in the world. Once Marinette had that horrifying realization, she ran inside while Damian tried to stop her. But she was, unfortunately, too fast. Of course, Damian ran inside after her to try to get her out of there before she got hurt.

When Marinette went inside, she started looking for the miracle box. A piece of wood fell right where Marinette was about to pass by and by sheer luck she missed it. She continued walking and when she finally got to the second floor she saw the book and the kwamis were panicking since they couldn’t use Longg powers to turn off the fire. Once they saw Marinette, they were glad but scared of what she was doing inside a building that was on fire. They were gods they couldn’t die.

Meanwhile, Damian tried to get past the firefighters but they wouldn’t let him go. He kept yelling and telling the firefighters to let go of him because his fiancé was in there. Finally, after more struggling against their grip, he ran inside the building looking for Marinette

Too preoccupied about finding Marinette, he did not see the floorboard that was about to fall, and it fell on him knocking him unconscious.

Once Marinette collected the miracle box and the grimoire, she started to cough because she had inhaled way too much smoke. When she saw Damian on the floor unconscious she panicked and tried to pick him. She failed a few times until she finally got a good grip on him and picked him up and put his arm around her shoulder and started dragging him out.

She was coughing more and more, but she was determined to get out of there. When they got out Marinette was having trouble breathing and the paramedics started helping her immediately while the firefighters were still trying to contain the fire. Once they saw Damian they put him inside another ambulance and rushed him to the hospital.

Marinette was having even more trouble, so once they got her into a stretcher they gave her an oxygen mask . Even with the oxygen mask, Marinette was still having trouble breathing, so the paramedics were rushing to get her inside the hospital.

No matter how fast they tried to get to the hospital, they couldn’t because there was a villain attack happening and they couldn’t pass and the police denied them access even after they had told them they had a patient that needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

Damian got into the ambulance he did not get caught up in the attack. Once he got there he was immediately checked to see if he had a concussion after the piece of wood fell on top of him. He did happen to have a severe concussion so they put him in a room by himself and waited until he would wake up.

Meanwhile, the Bats had finally managed to stop the attack so the ambulance could finally pass. They never knew that the ambulance that got caught up was the one where their future sister-in-law and future daughter in law was in.

Marinette was still having trouble breathing even with the mask due to how many smoke fumes she had inhaled. The paramedics were trying everything for her to not close her eyes but Marinette could barely stay awake. Once they got to the hospital they rushed her in because she also had severe burns. Before they could treat her, she died from all the smoke inhalation.

The doctors could do nothing but cover her with a white sheet and contact her family to let them know what had happened.

On the other side of the city, Alfred picked up a phone call expecting to hear anything else but “HelIo, this is Alice from Gotham hospital. I am contacting you because your grandson, Damian Wayne, has been hospitalized.”

On the other side of the world, two loving parents received the worst news that no parent wants to hear. “We are sorry to let you know that your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, has been declared dead.” Once they heard those dreaded words, they broke down crying.

Once Alfred informed the rest of the family, they all rushed to the cave to take off their suits and rush to the hospital. They got inside the car and passed the speed limits; they didn’t care if they got in trouble their son, brother, and grandson was in the hospital for who knows what. Only for Sabine to call them in tears, saying that Marinette had passed away and that they had no idea how to tell Damian. They were in shock. That meant that while Damian was in the hospital, Marinette had died. And the problem was they had no idea how to tell Damian that his fiancé had died.

They got to the hospital and rushed to the front desk and everyone immediately started asking for Damian Wayne and what room he was located in and what had happened. The front receptionist got overwhelmed and told them to quiet down and that Damian was on the second-floor, room 404. They all got into the elevator, immediately pressing the second-floor button. After a minute they got to the second floor and looked immediately for room 404.

Once they found the door, they found Damian laying in bed still unconscious, they all felt bad for when he woke up they had to tell him the tragic news.

Bruce was pacing back and forth wondering what had happened that Damian had to end up in the hospital and Marinette had died.

The kwamis and the grimoire had still been in Marinette's hands when she got out of the building, so they took those belongings with them and put them in a bag for the patient's relatives or someone close to them could pick them up.

Jason got tired of waiting to know what had happened to Marinette so he left the room and got into the elevator and went up to the front desk. Unfortunately, they told him unless he was a family member or was one of her emergency contacts they could not give him private information. Jason, while frustrated and on the verge of tears, didn’t want to scream at the receptionist for she was just doing her job. He went to Damian’s room again only to find everyone crying except Bruce, but you could tell he wanted to cry.

It was already too late so the nurse had to ask them to leave, but if someone wanted to stay they could. Of course, Dick offered to stay while Alfred took the rest of them back home.

The next day, Damian woke up and could barely open his eyes due to the light inside the room.

Dick noticed right away when Damian woke up and started fretting over him, but pushed the nurse button alerting them so they would know that Damian had woken up.

“Grayson, where is Marinette?” was the first thing Damian asked. Dick was having trouble on how to tell him what had happened to Marinette. Damian got up from the bed and started walking out of the room when Dick grabbed him from the arm and stopped him from leaving.

Damian started pulling his arm out of Dick’s grasp but Dick would not let him go. “Grayson, let me go I need to look for Marinette!” Damian yelled.

“I’m sorry, Damian, but I can’t let you go.”

Damian was getting frustrated. He just wanted to see his fiancé and find out if she had gotten out okay, but Grayson was keeping him from doing that and he had no idea why. Finally, the nurse came in and told Damian he had to sit or lie down so she could check him again.

Damian listened to the nurse and sat down, but he still wanted to go look for Marinette. Once she finished checking up on him, she told him he was free to go home. Damian, of course, immediately went out to look for Marinette. Dick went after him so Damian would have support once he found out. That’s when it hit Damian that he did not know what room Marinette was in, so he and Dick took the elevator and, once they got to the main floor, he asked the receptionist if he knew where Marinette Dupain Cheng was. The receptionist asked Damian what relationship he has with her.

“She is my fiancé,” Damian answered.

“Do you have proof of what you are claiming?” the receptionist asked.,

Damian was getting frustrated at this point but asked Dick if he could borrow his phone because Dick had tons of pictures of them together. Dick unlocked his phone and scrolled through his camera roll to find a decent and recent picture of Damian and Marinette together.

The receptionist took one look at the photo and looked at Damian with pity. She then looked at Dick and, without actually speaking, asked him who was going to tell him.

Finally, Dick decided that he needed to tell Damian.

“Damian, I have to tell you something.”

“What is it, Grayson?”

“So we got a call from Marinette’s parents, and I don’t know how to tell you this...”

“Just spit it out, Grayson! Tell me what happened to Marinette!”

“Baby bird-”

“Grayson, what happened to Marinette?” Damian asked, frustrated.

“Baby bird, after she got you out of the building, something happened to her and-”

“And what, Grayson?”

“I’m sorry, Damian, but Marinette died,” Dick finally managed to tell Damian.

Damian stood there in shock. He couldn’t believe it.

“Grayson, please tell me you’re joking,” Damian said, shaking Dick.

Dick looked at his baby brother, who was on the verge of tears and just pulled him into a hug.

Damian started sobbing. He couldn’t believe that Marinette, his angel, the love of his life, was gone.

“No, Grayson, this can’t be! Marinette can’t be gone, not like this, not her,” Damian cried.

And Dick held him the whole time as he cried

Word count: 1,738

@issaxcharlie here is the last part I hope you love it

A huge thanks to my beta reader @nyx-in-line and @icerosecrystal

#mgi trope tussle #maribat #congrats on the engagement

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analviel · 3 years

Text

Tim's origin but with a little more SPICE:

It's been weeks since Tim started following Batman. When he began, it was with a determination to help right a wrong, to help his heroes in some way during this trying times.

Who'd have thought that seeing your city's hero repeatedly beat up petty criminals to pulps was a traumatizing experience for a thirteen year old. What courage he'd gained to do something, had been steadily chipped away and Tim is now in an impasse.

Taking pictures. Documenting the man's decent. And, if he was honest with himself.... well, it's looking more and more like evidence.

Evidence against Batman.

Oh my god.

Tim is both a stalker and a clean-up crew simultaneously, he feels like. But rather feeling good at being helpful to heroes, this feels more akin to helping cover up. Even though he isn't.

If anything, calling ambulances to report Batman's victims is the opposite. Tim feels acutely aware of how Batman's ledger is filling up. Records being taken and, therefore, evidence piling up.

It's all evidence, everything is, if you use it the right way. That's what Tim has learned following Batman's cases -not that it's ever under his name seeing as he is a vigilante and finding which ones have his style is detective work in itself.

This time though, it's different.

Oh god it's different, Tim feels himself panicking, wondering what was different that was making him even more vicious than he usually already is.

Not his parent's death anniversary. Or their anniversary. Not Harvey's turning either.

Way too soon to be Jason's death anniversary. Not his birthday either.

Tim wracked his mind trying to figure out what made this petty car jacker special. Different. Worse.

Tim press his back on the filthy rooftop, hands over his mouth, blinking tears from his eyes, listening to a stranger beg mercy from a.... hero? A criminal disguised as a hero? A villain disguised as a hero?

A grieving man.

Later, Tim will wonder what he could've done better; many things.

If he'd just moved immediately after Batman left, if his legs would've stopped shaking sooner, if he swallowed his bile, if he. Just. Moved.

If he hadn't waited seconds and then minutes after hearing the silence, then maybe...

The man is dead.

Or, he's dying.

Tim had called the ambulance, stumbled his way down the fire exit, and discovered the man fading.

Tim was too shocked to have the mind to exit the premises before the medics arrived.

He shouldn't have been.

He KNEW Batman was getting worse and worse. He didn't stop earlier, hadn't given up the mantle when his son died, he's not going to do it now. There was only one way to go now from there. Down.

Worse and worse until it's the worst.

They got the man back again.

Tim curls up in his seat in the ambulance. Watching.

Tim curls up in his seat in the hospital, barred from the operating room. Listening.

The man flatlined two more times -three all in all-, that's what he'd gathered from hushed whispers he can barely hear in the natural bustle of a hospital. 'Three times the charm' they say. Tim wonders in what way, in this case. Someone gives him a hot cocoa together with the blanket he'd been wrapped in by the first responders.

Someone's going to ask him questions, they say. They're just late a bit, they say.

Typical.

Tim would be gone before anyone arrives. If nothing else, his parents finding out about any of this, is enough to knock some sense into him. He doesn't know them that well, but at the very least, anyone even remotely sane would be Displeased with a capital D.

So he knows he shouldn't have, but he needed to go home. And he needed to see him before or he's not getting any sleep.

Tim sneaks into the room, sees the man attached to tubes and a heart monitor. He's alive. Barely. But he is.

Tim goes home and can't sleep.

The next day, he visits.

He doesn't even attempt the front desk and just walks in as if he'd just gone out for some air five minutes ago. He's sweating cold sweat the whole time.

He's not lying, he tells himself. He can't lie if no one's asking. It's fine. Everything's fine.

Except everything, you know.

Tim is shocked to find the man conscious. He almost runs back out but the man calls out a faint 'hey'.

He can't talk much, too damaged to do so. He doesn't ask Tim's name or what the hell he's doing there. Just asked him to pray for him.

Tim has never prayed a day in his life. He looks it up on Waynet.

Anxiously glancing at the door as he reads and recites as instructed.

Then the man talks about a sick brother. An overworked sister. If he can check up on them, please.

Tim has no idea why he'd ask a kid that, a stranger to boot, but he figures thirteen year olds from Crime Alley were just a different breed. It was nice watching and admiring from afar, but Tim can't imagine doing any of the death defying stunts Jason did on the regular.

Tim can't help repeating his name in his head though. His and his sister and brother.

He checks on them and returns to tell the man that they were alive and Tim also just signed them up for weekly groceries and medicine from his not inconsiderable allowance. No matter what walk of life you are, Tim at least knows that unsolicited help are usually unsolicited for a reason so he's not going to push. Much.

He was already there, you can't expect him not to do anything.

The man died.

They're trying to revive him again.

Tim can't bring himself to stay.

(To wait until the name Derek is written beside a time and date in one of those medical bracelets he'd never thought to ask the name of.)

But he makes a silent promise.

He's going to stop this.

Tim is going to do something.

Naturally, as any law-abiding thirteen year old, by 'doing something' his first thoughts are calling the authorities to sic them on Wayne manor with all the photos, and now evidence, he'd collected through the years.

Yeah, Tim chickened out.

Because reviewing all the photos, Batman is crying.

Crying while he beat up young men who are older brothers, but crying. Batman is broken.

In the past, if someone or something in Gotham is broken, you know Batman and Robin will be on it.

Robin has been shattered and Batman is broken. Who will be 'on it' this time? When the heroes need heroes, who will be there to catch them?

So. Yeah.

Plan B, is to give Batman time to recover. Preferably without Batman. Batman is justice and vengeance and the violence the police can't deal out. Violence for the greater good, but violence. That can easily go overboard, as he'd repeatedly witnessed.

There used to be less violence and more talking. When Batman had a Robin to be mindful of.

Tim needed Bruce to quit Batman.

Somehow without inadvertently burning down Gotham with supervillains let loose. Maybe a vacation. Tim can... convince him to go on a hiatus. There are times when the dark night go one JL missions and the Bats seems to have a system to prevent spikes in crime activities.

Mostly involving Batgirl, Robin, and -to a much lesser extent- Nightwing.

Batgirl is out of commission in what he suspects might be related to Barbara Gordon's injury, though he hasn't had time to confirm it.

Robin is... well.

Nightwing is MIA.

..... Tim will deal with it when the time comes.

The time doesn't come because... well, simply put, no one answered the door. Probably thinking it's more paparazzi -he'd seen the hordes and then regular pesters- so yeah, Tim understands. It's fine.

It's fine.

..... really, it is.

Tim does NOT visit the hospital.

He deactivates the program he'd spent the better part of the day before researching and copy pasting codes that would've sent a timer of five minutes from when activated that, if he didn't regularly enter the code, would automatically send all his pictures to every major news outlet in the entire country.

Clearly, Tim can't do this on his own. In fact, he's been getting a feeling that he shouldn't do this on his own.

Okay.

So if he was Dick Grayson, where would he retreat to grieve his little brother's sudden death.

......... how much is the bus fair again. Would a hundred be enough?

He'll bike it.

For the road trip pack, he's thinking a bag of lays. He'll stab it to get the air out and to be able to fit more in the bag.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tim close the door behind him, relaxing in the car seat with a sigh. Working in a company was exactly how he'd thought it'd be as a kid.

Something he'd rather not be doing. When was the last time he'd held a camera? Even just his phone camera? That doesn't involve recording evidence in the mask.

"Where to, Mr. Drake-Wayne?"

"Ermmgrgfdbcfb..."

"The penthouse then, after a short driveway. Red Robin or Burger King?"

"Yum."

"Yes sir."

Tim gathers just enough energy to lift his head to look at car mirror, "Thanks Derek. You're the only one who ever understands me."

"I'm sure Mr. Grayson would disagree."

"Disagree all he wants. He gave me the wrong donut once."

#dc #dc comics #batfam #batman #robin #tim drake #red robin #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #origin story

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bitch-its-me-alv · 4 years

Text

You can’t touch what’s mine, bitch

(Part two of He is mine, bitches)

Damian was very proud of himself. He got a very hot and sweet boyfriend 13 months ago, managed to keep that boyfriend more than happy, and had managed to hide the existence of marin from his family for 14 months.

He had no idea how an alleged family of detectives and vigilantes hadn't even noticed that their youngest member was in a relationship. And that he spent less and less time with them and more with Marin. He was severely disappointed in his family, although he never said it out loud, he thought they would make better opponents.

In Marin's apartment he even had his own closet where he had his clothes, the only reason Damian kept coming back to the Mansion was because of appearances and his precious pets.

But he knew he couldn't go on like this forever. he wanted to introduce his family to Marin, to see how damn perfect he was, his photographs around the world, his point of view so different from the others, the way he sang for Damian even when he was in another room… Well maybe if he kept to himself how weak he was for his boyfriend everything would be fine.

With a good contact on the dark web, he got a protector on his cell phone, and so there were more than two thousand photos with Marin. They on their first date, in the bathroom mirror, at gotham school, in the classrooms, in the cafes, in bed. Their chat seemed like they were talking for years, full of memes that Damian didn't understand at first, and memes with their own faces.

He take all possible measures, but never anticipated that Marin would get sick from some kind of virus, forcing him to stay in bed, well, Damian actually forced him after Marin almost fell down the stairs at school.

So when he informed his father that he would take a break from patrols until further notice, he turned on all the Wayne family alarms.

Little Demon Spawn wouldn't use patrols as an excuse to hit people? Would he pass up the opportunity to take his katana out of its case? Who had he killed? Oh my god, would he be doing drugs? Maybe that would explain the little bruises on his neck and wrist.

“Oh for all the bats, Bats, what are you going to do? your only son of blood became a drug addict!”Dick very concerned about his little brother's safety “Tim, hack his cell phone, look it up in the network of cameras in the city, we can't leave it like that!”

“Calm down, boy wonder. It is clear that he killed someone and he is not using drugs.”Jason tried to appease his brother in his mother hen way.

"Well, he's hiding something big, someone has been removing images from cameras for over six months, and Damian coincidentally never sees himself in them, not even at school.”Tim didn't want to alarm anyone, but the fact that he hadn't found evidence of his little brother in the last six months in the city was certainly a big concern.

Had he been going back to his habits from the prince of assassins?

Everyone looked at Bruce, waiting for his words. “We will follow him just to make sure he is safe, whatever his secret he will tell us sooner or later.”

(They didn't know it was more later than sooner)

Nightwing, Red hood, Red robin, and Batman followed the low trail Damian left when he left the mansion. Unaware of the luck they had, of Damian being in a discussion on the phone with Bourgeois, to distracted to know he was being followed.

They stopped on the roof opposite the minimarket that Damian entered. With tim setting up the microphone to understand what Damian was saying. Another red flag was that he could not hack his cell phone.

"There is no need for threats Bourgeois, I understand the delicacy of the situation, and I am fully prepared to waste a couple of days on the cause."

No one in the family harbored hope at this point.

After hearing Bourgeois rant about the importance of his best friend's health, Damian continued navigating the soda aisle, he would never understand why Marin insisted that Dr.Pepper was the best of drinks when Mountain-Dew was clearly superior.

"To prevent him from trying to escape I had to chain him to bed, his insistence on continuing with his final project is very irritating, I am grateful that he can hardly speak at this point, or else his voice would be ringing throughout the department."

The whole Bat family was shocked and disappointed, Damian was holding a hostage somewhere horrible, and he was working with someone else.

At leaving the store, the vigilantes dispersed, all decided to find Damian's hostage, then they could deal with Demon Spawn. They were a little scared of what Damian could have bought in a simple minimarket to use as torture.

From Damian's phone, Chloe gave up with her hateful act and said goodbye to her best friend's boyfriend. "Just make sure he recovers properly, it is very rare that he gets sick, no matter what country or climate Marin was in, he almost never contracted any disease."

"I am conscious chloe, we both know that if there is someone Marin surrenders for, it will be me. I will inform you of any change in his condition."

He hung up the call as he entered his apartment building. His call with chloe lasted his entire journey on the street, luckily he was about to spend all his time with his soft and muscular boyfriend.

Meanwhile, on the rooftops around, the watchers waited for a more appropriate place for torture, but with their beloved Demon Spawn they never knew. Tim pulled out the binoculars so he could see through the walls of the building, looking for the poor soul that Damian held captive.

What they did not expect was for Damian to reach the top floor of the building, taking off his coat and shoes as he entered. The apartment very well furnished and full of life, as if someone actually lived there.

Batman was about to fly straight to the biggest window in the apartment, when what Tim saw made him fall backwards. Bats snatched the binoculars away from him before anyone else could.

"Bats you really don't want to see what's going on there, you wish you could forget it!" All the boys went crazy trying to get Tim to tell them what he had seen.

Inside the apartment, Marin was chained from his right hand to the head of his bed, his mystical blue eyes reddened at the corners, his body rendered by the dark green sheets that Damian had insisted on buying or would not sleep in bed. Marin saw nothing wrong with the old bear sheets.

Instantly Marin felt better when her grumpy boyfriend came home. If he could have produced any vaguely human sounds, he would have rushed Damian into the room.

Before Damian could say anything to his very sick boyfriend, Marin pulled him down onto his chest. Damian was very frustrated that despite all his years of killer training, he always fell on his boyfriend's chest. It was very common to find himself more than six times with his face buried in his hard chest.

So as a very usual act, he made himself comfortable to lock Marin between his body and the bed, holding on tight as always.

They give each other a chaste kiss to avoid germs, but the habit is difficult to break even for a few days. Tim falls on his back at that moment.

“Why did you take so long? It is sooo boring here without your vocabulary of yesteryear and your beautiful frown.” Damn the expensive cologne that always clings to damian, making his neck and hair always so tempting. He curses his body that matches him, which is always ready to attack at any time, and curses his sharp jaw.

"Your very dear best friend distracted me all the way, pretending to be the enemy, as if she hadn't been happy for us when we got together"Damian rolls his eyes.

Marin apparently having said the last thing his throat could handle surrenders to his boyfriend's possessiveness, letting Damian give him little kisses all over her face, excluding his lips.

Across the street batman curses and turns around, contacting agent A. Tim comes out of his stupor and tells his brothers what he saw. They also desperately contact agent A, the only sane one in any situation.

Two days later Marin is fully recovered, shining like a malicious and amiable ray of sunshine.

After Marin confessed to Damian that he knew he was Robin by his butt, and consequently deduced who the other bats were, along with super boy and superman, the barriers of the alter egos had fallen, and in exchange Marian told him about what he found in the Amazon caves and about who his relatives were.

To say that Marin had been about to split the marble island of his kitchen in two because of nerves would not be a lie, but once again, Damian surprised him by saying that it was not very important in his relationship that he had villains as a family, reminding Marin that his mother and grandfather were assassins and that he was also assassin at some point.

So there were no unpleasant surprises in their relationship, but there were surprises for the rest of the world. Marin knew about the secret that Damian was hiding from his family, because he was the secret.

He didn't get it wrong, no, Marin knew that Damian was more than willing to tell the world who he was dating, if the first selfie he published was something to consider, or ... all the broken hands he left behind because he thought they were very comfortable with him.

Oh, he loved when damian got all possessive, like a bristling kitten, or rather a panther ready to attack.

Returning from his fantasies, Marin decided to tell Damian that his time was up. His aunt Ivy had mentioned that the cameras hidden among the succulents had caught the bats spying on them days ago. Harley and ivy investigated before informing him, wanting to make sure they weren't going to confront him.

He loved Ivy and Harley, but the fact that they had called his parents and his nonna had not made him very happy, now he would have to explain why he had not told them about his boyfriend.

Marin hoped that the feeling of imbalance that was beginning to form in his chest was only the work of the family drama that was coming and nothing else.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

Damian was a bit more bitter than normal at school during the morning, he would admit that his call with Bourgeois distracted him from his surroundings, but it was about time that his family began to suspect.

Obviously he didn't take it out on his angel, he was what kept him going, so if Marin's fans came out with completely unnecessary bruises, neither Jon, Chloe, or Marin said anything.

And when Marin started kissing him more often to distract him nobody complained so much.

By the middle of the school day Damian had his hair messed up by Marin, Jon had chosen to warn Marin's outside friends about getting close, and Chloe was on her cell phone as usual. But a strange call to Marin sparked everyone's interest.

Marin reluctantly answered upon seeing the unknown number, but when no one spoke on the line, he knew it was a premonitory call.

The group partially aware of Marin's secrets nodded in acknowledgment, attentive to what was to come.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

Tim was ready to die, Dick was almost there, and Jason was more than pleased to help his little brothers leave this plane of existence.

Bruce was regretting in the darkest corner of his cave, what had he done wrong for his son to hide his partner? The moments of fatherhood that he shared with his son came to his mind ... and he realized that in reality he had not done much fatherly, so it made sense.

“I can't find any mention of Marin Dupain-Cheng, Jon Kent, Chloe Bourgeois or Damian on the internet for the last year. Everything has disappeared since October 28 from last year.”Tim was going crazy, he couldn't possibly find nothing.

“Calm down replacement, you can not find anything because you are looking for them from our devices and accounts. Alfred lent me his cell phone, and when I look for the name of our mysterious boy many interesting things appear”

“What are you waiting for Jason? Show it on the screen, I'm worried about little D”Dick said.

Bruce just nodded to his son, he had to be a better father to Damian from now on.

Jon, Chloe, Damian and Marin instagram appeared on the main screen of the cave. All with ridiculous names, like hellaMari, NottrollJon, QueenChloOriginal, and TheDEmon66. With too many followers to be just teenage accounts.

The only recent one was that of damian, where his photos were of him distracted, the one with Marin or the animal welfare he helped and the one he founded.

I had comments like: I would like to be you, how lucky you are, how I chose you, omg give me your life, etc ... It was very disturbing for the bati family, especially because they did not know that it was THE Damian Wayne, nor did they have his real name, they called him demon.

The evidence was refuted a year ago, with a photo in the instagram of Marin, of Damian and him facing the sun. With Damian's hair styled in a modern way, and with Marin lying on him, winking. Damian didn't even look the same even though he wasn't smiling, how happy he looked without needing to smile amazement at his family.

Thereafter, Jon and chloe began uploading photos of the group. A video especially on the NottrollJon insta convinced them to stop snooping.

Now they just had to wait for Damian to come back.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

"Since they overcame their own incompetence, I decided this would be the most effective, Marin, this is my family, my father Bruce, Grayson, Todd, and Drake. I think Alfred is in the kitchen but you already know him. Father and idiots, this is Marin my boyfriend for a year, congratulations for finding out.”

The bats definitely did not expect Damian to arrive with Marin after school, they had assumed they would have to hunt him all over the mansion. Even so, Bruce always prepared for everything with his mask, he shook Marin's hand, impressed by the height and strength of the boy.

"I'm glad you guys have finally discovered our secret" Marin smiled to the bats, making Damian grumpty.

“Wow, why are you like the sun if you date Demon Spawn?”

“Wait, did you know that he was hiding you from us?” Dick was surprised.

“Well ... I think we better start the story in the dining room, we don't want to make Alfred wait.” Damian was very pleased with his family's reactions and the fact that they were very surprised to approach Marin.

None in the family knew how to describe Marin yet. Physically, it was quite a surprise, with his big, slanted eyes, his symmetrical face, the fact that he was bigger than Jason in muscles and height, that his smile rivaled Grayson's, and that his dark blue hair was real.

But they knew very little about their attitude, tastes, or backstory. Tim's investigations had been very vague, only discovering that in reality there were not many papers about Marin because he had never been to school, or had lasted more than nine months in one place.

Then they followed the boys into the dining room, still amazed at Damian's attitude. Determined to inspect Damian's boyfriend thoroughly and decide for themselves how dangerous Marin Dupain-Cheng was. After all, if their beloved little brother liked it, it would have to have a dark side.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

As night fell, the bats could tell that Marin Dupain-Cheng did not lie to them even once. With their detective senses on edge, everyone could agree that he didn't tell a lie even once.

Which leaves them with the incredible travel anecdotes that Marin had related to them to please Damian and distract him from the accusations of his family.

It was refreshing to say the least, Marin's point of view on heroic and villainous figures, the problems of the world, the little ones, the horrible situations of the poor, the wonders of traveling. It was a drastic change to what they were used to. A vision stained brown with red and black shades, the city, the complaints and the pressure on the vigilantes or the absolute disgust for the anti-heroes or rogues.

“So you were in the scarecrow attack at the museum a year ago, and you threw your motorcycle at the guys who were shooting at you?” It was obvious that Jason had reminded him of the incident long ago, but unaware that Marin already knew their identities because of her boyfriend's butt, Jason pretended he hadn't been there.

Tim, Dick and Bruce had also been there, but they didn't see the moment that happened, so their disbelief was not acted.

"Was it because of the toxin of fear, or before you could already launch motorcycles at your whim?"Bruce spoke, seriously, what the hell did he take in the morning to make his voice so deep and strong?

Marin told Damian that it was the magic of the dark knight, but Damian dismissed it saying that after pretending so much he had stayed like this.

“Oh no, it's actually partly because I do what I can to keep fit.“Marin and Damian knew what was coming

“And the other part? "Dick asked suspiciously.

“Well that's thanks to my curse” Marin shrugged. As Damian reached for his hand under the table and all the bats leaned in his direction synchronously.

“Damn, like magic and that?”

“Yeah, when I was five, my nonna took me to the Amazon, of course she hadn't originally thought about going to the jungle, but for some reason I escaped, and ended up being swept away by a current in the river. Miraculously, I came to some kind of cave next to the rapids, where I touched something I shouldn't have touched and then the plague's curse clung to me.” Marin didn't mention that the curse came with the slim silver ring that right now was being rubbed by his boyfriend.

“So you're saying, that you have super strength because you drank from the Amazon River?“ Tim hit Jason, wondering if that white streak actually meant the death of all his neurons.

"It is more complicated than that but yes, it is actually quite similar to what you say”

Damian looks at his father, he will never admit it, but he was worried that his father did not like Marin, either because of his magic, the fact that he discovered his secret identities ... Or that his family is made up of the rogues of Gotham and other non-heroic personalities.

“He also discovered our identities a month after we started dating "Damian let out.

This time no one moved, with poker faces and saved breaths. Tim was the boldest "How ... did that happen?"

“I know Damian's butt from near, and being Robin didn't hide his butt very well.” Marin knew exactly how to break the tension, even if it means embarrassing his boyfriend a bit.

Jason and Dick started laughing seconds later, Bruce massaged his forehead, with the slightest blush on his cheeks. Tim dropped his head to the table, regretting his question, Damian just covered his blush, without looking directly at his family.

“Tt, Marin, couldn't you just tell them something else?”

“Of course not mon amour, they would know if I had lied”

After that they moved into the living room, where the fireplace was conveniently already on. The talk was postponed until it was late at night, and Marin after so many jokes with Jason and Dick had forgotten to mention that his parents would be coming to Gotham soon to meet them all.

Oh well, interesting things were definitely to come.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

Damian had a good night, maybe it had to do with the fact that he shared a bed with Marin, but they had done that before, or maybe it was the fact that this was the bed where he slept only before meeting Marin. Or was it because he had finally introduced his boyfriend to his family, and they all got along wonderfully.

Naturally someone had to ruin his good mood, and to his surprise, it wasn't his brothers this time, not even bruce had that nerve. It was that annoying weakling with casuela hair and orange spots on his face who dared to affirm that he had dated Matin and had currently come to town to repair his relationship.

The rest of the Gothnamites at school seemed unconvinced of their cheap babbling in bad English, but Damian didn't give a shit what his classmates thought. The important thing was that they had learned the lesson about Marin a long time ago, and it seemed like Damian would have to break some noses to make his point again.

"Oh yeah, my Mari and I were like this in the past." He showed his intertwined fingers. "But when he had to leave France because his aunt was trapped in the Himalayas it broke my heart, now that he's in town he has been insisting that we come back, isn't that so romantic that he dragged himself along for me?"

Lian was proud that all eyes in the hall were on him, who said that the Gothnamites were smarter was clearly an idiot.

Perhaps he did not realize that all eyes were of displeasure, weariness, and a few concerns. The skinny boy clearly didn't know what he was getting into.

Damian approached with irritation, after a quick check, decided he couldn't hit him ... as hard as he wanted. The chestnut build was too weak, and judging from the orange stains and chipped teeth, there was a more than 73 percent chance that a punch from him would send him to the hospital, and Marin had made him promise not to send more people to the hospital, to the hospital outside of school.

"Oh, so you and Marin are something?" Damian said to the chestnut, ignoring how people began to crowd with interest, while leaving space so that they did not cross with the cold words of Ice Prince, or his fists.

Lian, ignorant and malicious noticed the growing crowd, he had to do it right, or Adrianna would destroy him.

"Well… I don't really want to create any misunderstandings, especially with all the false publicity that he put on instagram, I mean, Marin didn't know a better way to get my attention, so he ended up hiring that model to fake a relationship for Internet." The crowd gasped, that boy would end up knocked out.

"Woah, everything that has come out of your mouth is nothing but shit, and I've only had the misfortune to meet you for a minute."Damian spoke. “So I will tell you something flimsy rat, Marin has never had something with you nor will he, he is a man of good taste, he has class and high standards that you will never can fill in your miserable excuse for life. So you better shut your mouth full of shit before I kick your ass and those horrible orange stains you have.”

The students smiled, that bastard would finally shut his mouth in the best way, oh, and sunshine prince did not look close, there was a great possibility of punches.

Lian did not know what was the best way to react, that guy was scary, damn, he was surely the thug, the safest thing was to play the scary victim, anyway he was too scared to act angry.

"Oh, maybe you are one of the people who is in love with Marin, I can't blame you, my boyfriend is charming that everywhere he go he get a ... admirers entourage, it is understandable that you are angry but there is no need to do great matter about it.”

Damian was about to reply with his usual cold and dark aura, when his boyfriend entered the crowd.

Lian, or actually Lila, cringed at the sudden appearance of Marin, she / he thought it would keep her record of being late to school and give her time to manipulate the sheep.

“Stop your pathetic act Rossi, the French in our old school may be a ball of idiots, but in Gotham things are very different.”

Ah, Marin. It could be called sunshine prince and boy did it fit him. You can be in his graces and be lucky to have a ray of sunshine to light up your days, or you could be an idiot without self-preservation and die from sunburn.

Lian tried to regain command, wild was going to kill her, she had not been in the city for five days and had already been discovered.

“Oh, Marin darling, you don't have to protect me from the media anymore, you can stop pretending.”

He tried to get closer, but damian slapped his hand against the lockers before he could touch him. Lian did not hesitate to exaggerate and throw himself against the lockers. "Agh, this brute just attacked me! Separate him from me!"

No one moved, sharing the feeling of shame that apparently the skinny did not have.

Marin decided to speak. "Let it be known, that I am not associated in any way with this cheap and lying bitch. Anything that comes out of her mouth is more false than the pyrite. I hope I don't see you again Rossi"

When Lian was about to throw herself at Marin's feet, Damian stopped him, putting his brand name shoe on her chest.

“Don't even try you bastard, he's my boyfriend. And you can't touch what's mine, bitch.”

When the order of the hierarchy was restored, with Damian and Marin walking hand in hand the students lost interest, and left quickly. Completely forgetting the sulfuric chestnut on the ground.

Lila Rossi was so fucked up, and the Agrestes still didn't know.

At a spa across town, Chloe had a feeling. And in a room a few doors from where Rossi Jon was, he also felt it.

#daminette #male marinette #maribat #damian x marinette #lila is fucking faking be a boy for attention i fucking hate her

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watchtower-feed · 4 years

Text

Death Do We Part (Part 8)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Notes: Oh boy. This part and the next were supposed to be just one part. At the end of this fic, I’ll have enough words for a freaking novel! Please, though, tell me what you think of the story! Loving and violent reactions are welcome. Words: 2,800+

You’re startled. You quickly scan the property for any movement but you just miss the figure retreating into the distance. Back into Gotham City.

As soon as they get back to the cave, you’re waiting for them on your toes. “He was here!” you shout frantically. “He was at the manor!” You hover over them until they’re running towards the monitor where you have all of the surveillance cameras up and running.

You all watch silently, hands leaning on the desk, eyes straining for the slightest movement in the darkness.

��There he is!” you point at the camera placed directly in front of Jason’s room. Alfred replays the video like he has for the hundredth time that night. You wait as they watch the seemingly boring video, and then there it was, the slightest movement of the tip of a nearby hedge nearly off-camera, as if someone passed through it.

“Are you sure it’s not the wind?” Dick asks in a serious tone. He believes you but he wants the details. Needs them before he brings his hopes up.

You nod. “I knew something was different tonight. At the time I wasn’t feeling different temperatures. And I could hear…”

“You could hear?” Tim tries to prompt you to keep going. What’s the point of keeping secrets now when it’s what got everyone in this mess in the first place?

“I was talking to myself-- talking to Jason-- like I do every night. And I could almost hear myself in my own ears--”

“Like he was listening to you,” Bruce interrupts, eyes wide.

“That means he’s in Gotham! He was here! At the manor!” Dick says excitedly.

You suddenly frown, making all three of them stare at you. “He was.”

Alfred sighs, “That’s what Y/N has been trying to tell you, master Bruce. Before we came down to the cave, Y/N felt seasick again.”

The sudden news greatly diminishes their spirit. Bruce wanted to be angry. He wanted to scold you and Alfred for not telling them about this sooner. Instead, Bruce turns around and enters the bat plane again, leaving his two partners behind. You know where he’s going. You know Bruce is going to spend all night tracking every boat, every ship, and every yacht that left Gotham docks until he finds Jason.

But you also know he won’t find him. You’ve been at this for a year but it’s becoming very clear that you’ll only find Jason if he wants to be found. And maybe that’s for the best.

In the meantime, your new life has to keep going, or in your case, it has to start.

“Being dead for two years and a ghost for another has nothing to do with your education, Y/N,” Alfred argues with you for the tenth time this month, “We’re enrolling you into Gotham University. You start next week.”

“Next week? That’s too soon!”

Tim is the same age as you and Jason, biologically, but you always argue that you’re older than him and death just held you back two years. It bothers you that you’re both going to be freshmen at Gotham U but Tim is going to leave you three semesters behind.

Tim chuckles, “You’ve been hiding in the manor for too long. It’s time to re-introduce you back into society, Y/N.”

“Ew. You’re starting to sound like Dick.”

“Hey!” Dick yells out as he enters the kitchen.

Ever since Jason ran away from Gotham, you’ve gotten closer to Dick and Tim. You use each other to keep Jason’s presence alive, telling each other stories about him while Tim listens and chimes in whenever familiar Jason-Robin stories would come up. At some point, you stopped talking about Jason and just told each other about what life was like before. With friends. Your family.

You decided not to return to your own family. You knew one day Bruce or Alfred would ask you but you prepared yourself to say no. Your family and friends have already mourned for you. Given what your life is now and who it’s linked to, you don’t want them to have to experience that kind of heartbreak again.

“Welcome to Gotham University, Robin Wayne. Hmm,” The sophomore in charge of freshman orientation has set her sights on you and Tim, being Waynes and all. “Bruce can’t seem to stay in a stable relationship for more than a month but he sure does like to adopt kids.”

“I’m 18,” you say frankly, trying to get this moving along.

Tim snickers beside you. It was his and Dick’s bright idea to choose your name for you. They both think it’s a great inside joke but you think all that crime-fighting has seriously messed up their sense of humor.

You’re thankful though that they don’t really call you that. They still call you by your real name.

College and your new identity aren’t about starting a new life and closing the old one. Robin is your identity to the outside world and Y/N L/N is your secret identity. Much like how Robin is to Tim and Nightwing is to Dick and… Batman is to Bruce Wayne.

Bruce.

He’s the one who’s taking Jason’s absence much harder than all of you. He disappears all night doing his usual routine of keeping the city safe and then spends any downtime looking for any trace of Jason in Gotham or anywhere else in the world.

He would catch you by surprise every now and then, asking you if you’ve felt anything about Jason. Anything at all. A change in temperature. The direction in the wind. Sudden hunger. And you always shake your head sadly.

You actually saw Jason that night. You vividly saw his shadow leap over the property and back into Gotham. It took everything in you to not run after your soulmate.

You didn’t tell Alfred or Bruce or anyone because you wanted to give Jason time to get away. If he heard you that night, you hope he followed your advice. That he’s living a better life and this time you won’t let Bruce mess it up.

Even though you don’t talk about Jason as much, to Tim and Dick the search for Jason continues as well. At least once a week, they would join Bruce in his search and they always ask you to join them.

They’re not forcing you to do it. You can say no if you don’t want to. But how will that look? Everyone wants Jason back except for you, the one person who can actually find him and knows where he is.

You feel it. You feel the familiar wind in your hair and the flying sand in your face. You know he’s back at the fortress and it makes you angry. You thought he would choose a better life so why is he back there?

But of course, whenever Tim or Dick asks you, you lie.

“I haven’t felt anything new. It’s like he’s gone completely radio silent on me or something.”

Tim chuckles and teases, “That’s not what radio silence means.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up,” you joke back.

Dick stares at the two of you and then leans in close with a smirk, “What’s this? What’s going on here?”

“Nothing!” you both snap at Dick. You shove him but it doesn’t really do anything. Regardless, he fakes being hurt to appease your feelings which only makes you more frustrated.

Partly, because he’s right. After being sensitive to another person’s every sense and feeling, you’ve become adept at reading people. You know that Tim has been spending more time with you than Dick has and he always tries to talk to you about almost anything.

You’re also aware that your body seems to find every excuse it can to touch Tim, to be close to him.

And even more so, you’re aware that nothing can ever happen between the two of you.

Tim is Jason’s replacement. Jason is your soulmate. The very existence of Tim in your life is due to the fact that Jason is your soulmate. You can’t even look at Tim without looking for a single trait of Jason’s, a sign that he’s the one standing in front of you.

So then why? Why are you lying next to each other in the garden, staring up at the stars, sharing a blanket, and fingers twitching to touch the other?

You’re just talking about being Robin, the crime-fighting Robin that soars the Gotham skyline alongside the dark knight. You’re exasperated by the idea that the three of them would want to endanger their lives every single night.

Tim half-agrees that you’re right and then he tells you about Batman’s training, how in-depth it is, and accurate, that it’s what keeps him going out there. Tim knows that the three of them never did it for the glory or the fame and infamy. Speaking on Jason and Dick’s behalf, Tim tells you that it was all about being able to stand next to Batman and help him in his mission to save the city.

You listen in awe because you never thought of it that way. Boys. Children. Putting themselves on the front line for Batman. The savior of Gotham City.

You look at Tim and say, “He’s lucky to have you.” Then you look up again. “Gotham should really appreciate you more. Maybe a Robin signal would be just the thing,” you chuckle and Tim does too.

But it’s quiet now. All you can hear is your breathing and Tim’s breathing. You turn to the side again, hoping to start another conversation, but you find Tim is looking at you as well. You watch as a red shade grows on his cheeks and his eyes dart away from your gaze.

He’s surprised to find that you’re still staring at him when he looks back. Slowly and gently, Tim raises his head so he can lean down close to you but he stops only an inch from your lips, waiting and hoping for you to close the gap, to decide for yourself.

You can feel his short breaths on your lips and you close your eyes before you lean in. His lips are soft and small. Neither of you move and it’s over so soon. Tim’s smiling and the redness on his face has gone up to the tips of his ears.

“You’re so red,” you tease happily.

Tim’s flustered but he teases back, “So are you, Y/N! You’re like a beetroot!”

You laugh and smile.

Tim holds your hand when he walks you back to your room. He holds your fingers together while you walk side by side. There’s a warmth to them you can’t deny. You’re smiling the whole time and even you can feel the redness traveling to your ears.

Tim walks you to your door and says goodnight. You wait for him to enter his own room before you close your door. You lie down on the bed and sleep comes to you easier than it ever has this past year.

In the morning, you wake up with your name written on your arm.

Y/N.

Suddenly you can smell the scent of your bed and it smells like Jason. Everywhere you look you see every single item Jason has touched. You see his clothes peeking from the open door of your wardrobe. You see his picture on your nightstand.

You feel sick to your stomach and you vomit on the floor. You’re crying as you’re heaving out acid yet again. Why? Why now? Why do you get to feel guilty over a kiss when Jason had sex with Talia? Why do you feel betrayed and guilty at the same time?

“This isn’t fair, Jason!”

Your sobs and retching start getting louder. Bruce quickly enters the room, followed by Tim and Alfred. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” Bruce asks and you know he’s not asking for you. He’s asking for Jason which makes you cry harder.

“Get out!” you scream at them, making everyone flinch at the shrillness of your voice.

“Y/N…” you know Tim is about to place his hands on your back and you quickly snap and slap his hand away.

You glare at the ground, “Don’t touch me.” You refuse to look at the hurt expression on Tim’s face. But he sees the newly written mark on your arm. Defeated, Bruce gently leads him out of the room.

“Y/N,” Alfred’s stern voice gets through to you. You know you did something extremely wrong. You know it before you even did it. “One day you will come to understand that we are trying to help you. We care for you. Not just for master Jason, but you as well.”

You wait until Alfred closes the door behind him before you crumple back onto the bed. You keep crying and massaging your coarse throat while staring at your name written on your arm.

Jason never does write anything else. He also never rubbed off your name on his arm. You would stare at it and touch it every night and wonder why he wrote it.

Absentmindedly, you would even touch it during the day. Tim sees you doing it during a lecture and you’re aware enough to turn and see the look of shock and then anguish pass over his face before it became stoic.

You stop talking to Tim completely after that and you even find yourself distancing yourself from Dick. An easy feat considering, he’s only at the manor once a week. But you could never keep yourself away from Alfred. He wants you to apologize to Tim but you can’t, not just yet. And you know Tim doesn’t want that at the moment.

You spend most of your time in the cave again. This time you’re actually helping Bruce find Jason.

“I checked the fortress. There was no one there. Not a single assassin,” Bruce relays it to you over the comm while he’s in the bat plane.

“How about the sacred city? I sensed the same feelings from the fortress. That might be the only other place Jason is familiar with.”

“On my way now.”

You wait and you watch but deep down you already know he’s not going to find him there. It has been a week since you last felt that, another week before you finally decided to help Bruce. But you didn’t feel seasick afterward so maybe Jason hasn’t gone far.

“Still no sign of him, Y/N. Any other ideas?”

“Any other cities in the area?”

“Not for hundreds of miles.”

You sigh and fold your knees close to your chest, “Come back, Batman. Let’s call it a night.”

You’ve been spending a lot more time with Bruce at night and he doesn’t question you about it. The only things you talk about are the missions and Jason. Every little thing you feel, you try to relay to Bruce but you don’t really come up with anything useful. Nevertheless, Bruce always checks out your suggestions.

“That’s the last of the League’s fortresses.”

“And still no Jason.”

“Hn,” Bruce grunts, “maybe. But it is a little odd,” he looks at the monitor, almost like he was talking to himself. “Every single fortress was empty and turned into rubble. It’s almost like someone’s been methodically attacking every known base of the League.”

“You think someone has it out for them-- You think Jason is doing this?”

Bruce looks at you, “Other than the weather and the environment, do you feel anything different about your body? Things you wouldn’t be feeling in relation to your own activities.”

You think about it for a while. But your first thought is how strange it is that you would’ve lashed out at such a question just last month.

“My body is still always fatigued even though I’m barely exercising. I feel them more on my arms, too.”

“How about now?”

Now you close your eyes and you numb your senses to your own body. You can feel an even steady wind hitting you in the face and noise coming from where the wind is coming from. “I feel a fan…” The wind isn’t that strong or the noise too loud but you’re disappointed to find out that that’s all you feel. “That’s it.”

“Strange.” Bruce is already looking at the monitor. His elbows on the desk while his hands hold up his chin. “These past few weeks, whenever you try to tune in to Jason’s feelings, you always come up with nothing. But he’s obviously up to something.”

You try to run through all of the implications in your head and only come up with one thing. “Do you think he found a way to figure out when I’m tuning in? And turns off his own senses?”

Bruce turns around, eyes narrow. He stares at your worried face for a second before he puts on a pensive expression. “It’s not impossible.”

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#ssa #superhero soulmate au #DC fanfiction #DC imagines #DC reader insert #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd x reader #Red Hood fanfiction #Red Hood imagine #Red Hood x reader #watchtower-feed #atbucud #jason todd #red hood

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spoiler-alert-i-love-bats · 4 years

Text

Jason Todd & Stephanie Brown

“—so basically, it’s not that Jar Jar is a bad character, it’s that the directors did him dirty.” Stephanie finished, her arms settling behind her head. She was lounging in the family room on the couch nearest to the fireplace. The pillows formerly on the couch had been scattered across the room from her passionate tangent, leaving her sprawled out, legs spread across the entire sofa in a position that most would deem uncomfortable. Hearing no response, she continued. “Hmm. I take it from your silence that you’re impressed, I know, I would be too. I know my Star Wars. People usually expect Tim to know this stuff because he’s the designated nerd of the bunch, but why do you think I’m dating him?” Steph yelled, her hand shooting up from behind the sofa. She answered herself in a harsh whisper, “My nerd skills rival his. Tim excels at knowing stuff about Star Trek, which is an absolute shit show by the way, but I am the god of Star Wars.” She looked up over the top of the sofa at Jason, and frowned. He wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he was browsing the book shelves of the room with a bored look, his fingers occasionally hovering over a title, only to move on.

Steph snapped her fingers, “Jason.”

“Hmm?”

“Are even you paying attention?”

“Nope.” He said, popping the ‘P’.

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” Steph said, flopping down on the couch.

“Apparently.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I was joking.”

“What didn’t you mean?” Jason said, turning away from the books with a crooked smile.

“I was messing with you.” She said, her head popping up from behind the sofa.

“What didn’t you mean?” Jason pressed, a cocky tone seeping into his words. Steph groaned.

“You’re really gonna make me say it.”

“Oh,” Jason laughed, “I really am.”

Steph’s features muddled into a sort of pout, before she let out a long, dramatic sigh. Her head disappeared back behind the couch before she said quietly, “You aren’t the worst. Jeez.”

Jason let a smile grace his features at the sound of her adorably indignant tone and let out a light laugh, “Well, you’re the first in this house to think so.”

Stephanie frowned. Sitting up she looked at Jason pointedly, “Don’t say that.” Jason rolled his eyes.

“You know it’s true. That’s literally why we’re here. They’re in there,” He pointed to the other room, “talking about what I just did, and you’re in here with me because you’re the only one who can tolerate me.”

“Okay, first of all that makes me sound like a weird-ass babysitter.” Jason snorted. “Second of all, I’m pretty sure they’re just upset because tracking you down took a while and you shot Bruce.” Steph smiled lightly, trying to offer some form of comfort.

“Yeah, I’m never hearing the end of that.”

“Jason, just because you messed up doesn’t mean you’re the worst.”

“Bruce would disagree.”

“And Bruce’s impossible standard is what we’re aiming for?” Steph slurred, sass dripping off her tongue.

“Look, Stephanie—”

“It’s Steph.”

“—I don’t care. Here’s the thing. They never cared about me, right? They only cared about how I benefit them. Therefore, they don’t want anyone running anything without their approval, especially the fucked up robin. For fucks sake, Bruce put a goddamn tracker on my arm to make sure I didn’t leave!” Steph glanced at his arm and frowned.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my call.”

Jason scoffed. “I’m sure it wasn’t. I bet is was the precious replacement, he’s the tech savvy one after all.”

“Don’t call him that.” Steph snapped. “Just because he became robin after you doesn’t mean you get to attack his pride to make yourself feel better. It was four years ago. Get over it.” Steph stood up from the couch to face Jason, willing her breath to steady. “Look, I‘m sorry about what happened to you. I truly am. I wasn’t there for it, but I was here to see the side effects. They care about you,” Steph looked over the the door to the other room before looking down, “more than they ever cared about me.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steph’s head snapped up.

“Oh yeah? Pretty sure you weren’t there.” Steph leered. “I truly think Bruce mourned more for you than he ever mourned for Tim and Damian after they died.”

That made Jason perk up, his brows furrowing. “What are you—”

“He was a shell afterwards Jason, he hardly even acknowledged me coming into Tim’s life. Hell, he didn’t even talk to me. I was pushed to the sidelines, along with Barbara and Kate, and he knew them longer! And Dick wasn’t the person he is now--he wasn’t as happy and carefree. He was off with the Titans more times than not because he felt like he failed you as a big brother and couldn’t face Bruce alone.”

Jason opened his mouth to deny her words but she waved him off. She wasn’t going to listen to him insist that they weren’t brothers. Jason was a terrible liar.

“And Tim? Don’t get me started. He sacrificed his soul to live up to your legacy and he still feels like he hasn’t done enough. Bruce didn’t help either—he never loved Tim like he loved you.”

“How on earth would you even know that?” Jason yelled.

“I looked around!” Steph shouted, her arms outstretched.

“You don’t know shit.”

“I’ve seen how Bruce acts around Dick, how he acts around Damian. I’ve seen how he acts around you, and how he acts around everyone else in comparison! All you need to do is watch Alfred when Bruce talks to Tim. The old man is heartbroken over it.”

“For god’s sake...”

“It’s not like I’m not smart Jason,” Steph spat. “You can’t get into this family unless you have something to offer.” Jason stepped back, confusion settling over his features. Steph pressed on. “Now listen closely, Jason. You’re here because the people behind that door, your father and brothers, care about you. They give a damn about your future in this family, and don’t say they don’t because you’re a lot smarter than that, Jay.”

Jason looked down, unable to hold her gaze and scoffed under his breath. He swallowed, the silence in the room making the air seem thick. “That was quite the speech.”

“We aren’t all as difficult as Bruce,” She seethed, “and now that he’s come around—”

“Took him four fucking years.”

“Better late than never. I had to get a few good hits in but he got there.”

Jason looked up at her, shocked. Did she really? He looked her up and down scanning for tells, and searching her eyes. Jason had seen her lie before and this wasn’t it. Her words were cold and sure, not bubbly and awkward. Jason could see why Tim liked her now, she was almost as two faced as that little bastard. Meeting her glare, Jason was pretty sure it could rival Bruce’s.

“Damn, blondie,” Jason whispered. “Bruce has got nothing on you.”

Steph gave him a hesitant smile. “It’s Steph.”

“Nah, I ain’t buying it.” Jason said, a small laugh slipping through his words. “You okay now?”

“Yeah… I’ve said my peace.”

“Okay.”

Jason hesitated before letting out a long sigh.

God, I cant believe I’m doing this.

“I should probably apologize.”

“Yes, I think--wait, what? Are you actually?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Wooooow, an apology from the great Jason Todd?”

“Oh my god.”

“Am I dying?”

Jason rubbed a hand over his face, “See this is why I don’t do this.”

“This is the greatest moment of my life! Here, lemme get a camera—” Steph started in the direction of her room, but Jason quickly stopped her and picked her up as she squealed in delight. He held onto her waist firmly, refusing to let go amidst her laughter and pleas.

“No fucking way am I letting go.” Jason cackled, “If you tell anyone I did this I swear—”

“I won’t!” Steph giggled, as she squirmed. “I wont tell anyone. Look, I won’t even tell Tim.”

Jason thought about it for a moment. Keeping a secret from the smartest member of the family sounded slightly appealing. “Promise?”

“I promise!” she snickered. “Now put me down!”

Jason smiled at that, gently lowering her to the ground. Steph smiled back as he set her down. “Now, I’m only going to say this once.” Steph nodded, looking so sincere it made Jason pause. He hadn’t had someone look that way towards him in a long time. He smiled, then shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “I’m sorry, blondie. I shouldn’t have pressed the Tim button.”

Steph felt her cheeks start to burn. “It’s okay.”

“Tim’s lucky to have you.” Jason said, turning to leave. “Now I’m going to head to the kitchen before this whole situation gets even more awkward.”

“Wait!” Steph said, “There is one more thing.”

Jason turned around just to be attacked by Steph, her arms wrapping around his torso, her face pressed against his chest. Jason froze. Steph giggled. “It’s called a hug, dummy, and you aren’t leaving until you hug me back.”

------

“Master Jason.” Alfred greeted.

“Hey Alfie.” Jason said, sitting down at the kitchen table.

“You seem quite happy, considering the situation at hand.” Alfred noted.

Jason smiled, “Yeah. Yeah I guess I am.”

111 notes · View notes

moonfox281 · 7 years

Note

Wow your story of the lotus of the night is amazing would you be willing to make a part 2?

Never thought of it before, but I never say no to any of your requests, so yeah. P/s: this is longer than I expected, had fun writing it too but still, super long for a prompt.

I’m in trouble, Officer.

(Word count: 9,151)

Link to AO3 for anyone who can’t read it on Tumblr: Cupcake

It was Sunday morning, long, cold winds and empty avenues. It was October, but Gotham did have her way with the weather, flipping the hands and bringing winter to her town sooner than usual. Today was his day off, a perfect occasion to snuggle deep down in the layers of heavy blankets and sleep till noon, or simply do an old time movie marathon that his shifts had taken his time from watching. But, of course, it was also a perfect time for Bruce to find and call him back to Gotham.

Wayne Manor still looked the same. Ancient, big, exorbitant, and cold. Cold even with all the memories of running down the endless halls, of swinging between chandeliers and sliding down the long handle of stairs. Dick still faintly remembered waking up at night, tugging the blanket onto his shoulder and walking through the number of old painting to get to Bruce’s chamber, to slide down against his door and just sleep like that. Born in a circus, to live in a huge mansion with just two people, it was fated that soon Dick would find his wings and fly away.

And he did.

“Ah, Master Dick. It’s been such a long time.” Alfred greeted him, still looking the same, but undeniably older. 7 years had worn him out, if not caused by Bruce’s stubbornness.

“It has.” Dick replied and watched the old man standing there eyeing him like he wanted to say something more. His wrinkled eyes flickered up and down his face, hunting for every change since their last encounter. Very much had changed indeed, for the 17 year old Dick Grayson must not look anything like him right now.

“You may find Master Bruce at the garden.” Alfred said, eventually, though his eyes were speaking louder than the voice that met Dick.

“Thank you, Alfie.”

It was awkward, and not how Dick imagined it would be. But 7 years was a long time, and to be honest, Dick didn’t plan to ever come back here again. Seeing Alfred brought back memories, good ones with cookies, delicious food, warm hugs and small talks in the kitchen. Alfred had made the Manor home when it felt nothing like it.

Dick wondered why he hadn’t come to visit sooner, but again, he remembered why.

Bruce looked exactly the same as the day Dick left him. Handsome face and cleanly shaven, fancy suit and Italian shoes. He looked like a billionaire from afar. Maybe they should make a movie or TV series about him just like this, sipping Earl Grey at the well set tea table while looking at the blue sky of his enormous garden.

“Dick.” He set his cup down, stood up, and straightened his suit, a small smile made it to his lips that made Dick sick. Bruce never smiled, not since Dick knew him.

“What do you want?” Dick asked and didn’t react when he saw Bruce pull out a chair for him.

Bruce’s smile slipped off his lips, his face hardened like someone had pulled the wrong string of it. Someone that was Dick.

“Can’t I just want to see you?”

“Don’t play around, Bruce. I know you, after all this time, you only call when you want something.” Like the first night after Dick had stormed out of this place, leaving for good and leaving everything behind, Bruce had called, and the phone had rung up all night, and the next morning.

For a big and important man, Bruce lived like a child, hurting and ignoring people and only wanting them back when he lost them.

Bruce stayed silent and just looked straight at him, face cold and emotionless. The same face Dick had learned to love, but also forced himself to hate.

“What do you want, Bruce.” He repeated. “I don’t have all day.”

Lie. He had all day, but he wanted Bruce to think he was a busy man, one that barely had time for his bullshit, not one that despite everything still came running all the way back from Bludhaven after just one short phone call.

Something shifted on the older man’s face, like another layer of cold, hard makeup to shield away his emotions that Dick could hardly ever see. But something had definitely changed in the way he looked at Dick, or the way his fingers lightly tapped a calming rhythm on the glass surface of the table. He took his time, long enough for Dick to start shifting his pose.

“The Red Hood case,” He started, and Dick couldn’t hold back a mocking huff from escaping his throat. Bruce waited for a few seconds before continuing. “He was originally from Gotham, but decided to make a move to Bludhaven. The GCPD don’t have access to any file related to him. Gordon said he has already bought half of the department. It was already hard enough to keep an eye on him when he was in range,”

“And now that he’s in the Blud, things got out of his hands.”

Bruce nodded and handed him a paper envelope. It was surprisingly thin for an A-class criminal case.

“There isn’t much. The Red Hood is good at what he does. He built up a kingdom of his own from the Black Mask scraps. But Bludhaven is new grounds, connections needs to be made, words will be slipped around and that is what I hope we’ll start at.”

“I.” Dick corrected.

“I’m sorry?”

“That is what I’ll start at. This case belongs to the BPD now, and most of the guys there have already started working for the Red Hood. That’s why you contacted me, because you know I’m clean, I’m trustworthy, and I’m on my own.”

“You’re not on your own−”

“Right, Gordon may be able to pick something up for me. But I doubt he’s gonna be much help, this helmet guy has been running around Gotham for almost 2 years and no one can do anything about it.”

“We’re doing our best.”

“We? I see you still go around with him.” Gordon was a good man, a really good man, one that made Dick doubt why he could be around Bruce for this long.

“I owe that man everything. And Gotham is my city too.”

“A city where you pay too much attention to the profit and not enough to the low life streets. If you had, you would have recognized that crime levels have gone down a significant amount since Red Hood took control of the underworld.”

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch but his shoulders tightened like an invisible weight had been set on them.

“Are you taking his side?”

Dick huffed.

“I’m a police officer, Bruce. And apparently, one of the only clean ones left. I’m not taking anyone’s side aside from justice. I’m just stating facts.”

“He’s a dangerous man.”

“And wouldn’t I know that.”

A dangerous man that 2 weeks ago had kissed Dick out of the blue and drugged him right off. A dangerous man that looked so young, like he might be around Dick’s age. Yet, he carried guns and weapons around like they were just some plastic toys, lead a whole gang of criminals dealing drugs and selling illegal weapons like it was just some poker game.

This world just kept getting weirder and weirder every day.

He turned and was about to leave when Bruce called, voice yearning and maybe desperate too if Dick could let himself be a little paranoid.

“You can stay for lunch.”

And Dick knew this was his attempt at a peace offering, a detente for the cold war that had been set between them for 7 long years. Dick knew today’s meeting was just an excuse so he could agree to see Bruce’s face. Bruce was doing Gordon a favor and all of this would have been simpler if he had given the commissioner his number. But no, Bruce had chosen a face-to-face meeting.

It was soothing, knowing he tried. Still, 7 years was just enough for wounds to heal, not for scars to fade.

“I can. But I won’t.”

And he left, just like that, despite wanting to stay so badly. Because if for once Bruce could feel the torment of this, then the pain would be worth it.

When he came home, the first thing he did after kicking off his shoes was dig through the kitchen cupboard for something dry to eat. The drive wore him out, but seeing Bruce drenched him the most. He shouldn’t have gone there, but again, the envelope that was resting on his countertop now could be worth a year of investigating.

He pulled out the chair and started pouring milk into the bowl for the box of Cocoa Pebbles because it was the fastest thing he could grab that wasn’t spices. He pulled the string and opened the envelope, dumping all the papers down on the island’s wooden surface. Pictures, files and a flash drive fell out, about a third of them were blacked out. Name unknown, age unknown, nationality unknown, no profile picture, height somewhere above average, alias Red Hood, wanted for loan sharking, gambling, drug trafficking, producing illegal weapons, committing arson, bribing legal forces, terrorism, assault with a deadly weapon, etcetera, etcetera. The list just went on and on and by the end of it, he was 110% sure that Red Hood had made it onto the FBI, CIA, NSA, DEA, and Interpol blacklist. It was shown that Red Hood was actually the cause of Gotham’s Kingpin Black Mask’s criminal confession, and the death of 12 other crime bosses. The file also included that a duffle bag full of heads of these crime lords had been sent to the GCPD’s doorstep 2 days before Black Mask’s headquarters had been blown up. The killing of the infamous psychopath Joker seemed more or less a part of Red Hood’s plan too when the ambulance that was carrying him had been bombed in the same month.

The pictures that were included in the envelope were of left-over scenes and few of the Red Hood’s gang tattoo. Dick went into his bedroom with the spoon still in his mouth to take his laptop out and back to the kitchen island, plugging the flash drive in. It didn’t take long for the items to transfer, when he opened the disk, various clips appeared. He skimmed through all of it, most were from police body cameras, the rest where scraps from the news and surveillance tapes that were retrieved as evidence.

Bruce was right, there wasn’t much, and all of this didn’t give any help to him at all. Dick himself might even get a better chance with the blood sample and prints he got from his last encounter with the Red Hood. He had run tests at the state’s lab, nothing came up, he had even given Diana some samples to give it a run in the AFIS database. Still, nothing came up, it was like the man didn’t exist at all.

A thudding sound got Dick to stop his chewing and look behind his back. His eyes skimmed through the place and nothing seemed to be out of place or unusual, but something had his guts twisted, or maybe he was just too tired from driving around today. Maybe it was his neighbor’s cat again, the fluff ball kept inviting himself into his apartment when he felt like it, wandering around his feet till he surrendered and picked it up even in his busiest moments. Looking back at the clock, it was 6:30 already, the sun had gone down and the lights had turned up when he was still busy digging his nose through the files. Time flew when you needed it the most.

Dick got up to stretch his back and suddenly yearned for a shower. He went to turn on the heater, grabbed a hoodie and sweats then went right into the shower room. He thought about Bruce when the water hit him, thought about the way he had looked at him when Dick declined his lunch invitation, thought about the alternative scene where he had said yes and stayed. He remembered Alfred too, the look on his old face when he bid his goodbye and the way he kept staring at him when Dick walked to his Prius on the front yard. He hated that he had broken the butler’s heart, hated that by punishing Bruce, he had also pulled the old man into this torturous game of theirs.

His head ached for relief, for a short break that it hadn’t gotten for what felt like forever. This case was draining him, but again, every case that fell into his hands caused the same affect. Dick couldn’t bring himself to remember the last time Amy walked to his desk and didn’t complain about his health issues. His chest ached every time he blacked out at the desk and woke up with a cooling coffee cup next to his head. Maybe some of the guys in the department felt pity for him, for trying to change the way this world turned, for playing the hero when it was way out of his league.

Maybe he was indeed stupid, for running after a criminal case that even the Feds couldn’t handle.

He toweled his hair and walked back to the living room, head somehow both lighter and more crowded, like it was filled with kapok tucked tight in a fat pillow. Dick didn’t see him then, only after he called out.

“For a cop, your security is crap.” Red Hood was sitting right there at his kitchen counter, hand holding the Cocoa Pebbles box, setting it down as if he had taken a look at it just a few seconds ago.

“Don’t tell me that’s your dinner.”

Dick was still staring at him, heart stopping and mouth gaping. He must have looked like a dead fish, but in his defense, this dead fish was taken by surprise.

“I− it’s my lunch, actually.” He mumbled, still too blown out to actually phrase the sentence properly.

Red Hood huffed and when he stood up, Dick instantly took a step back, hand reaching for the back of his hip out of instinct, just to realize that no, normal people don’t carry gun when they’re fresh out of the shower, even cops. The next steps the guy took, Dick founded himself stumbling back against the wall, too defenseless to actually do something besides thinking of the quickest way to run. The moment there were only a few inches between them, Dick actually thought he was gonna die.

Red Hood still looked as big as he always did, hard muscle coiled up like a bull underneath the heavy armor, pouches stuck out like they might carry grenades in them… wait, maybe they did. Those cold digital eyes of his helmet felt like they could shoot Dick’s soul dead. He towered over him, like a giant bull shark smiling in front of a baby seal, making Dick’s breathing hitch to the point of nothingness.

When his gloved hand went up, Dick squeezed his eyes shut and started counting down the seconds he had left before he said goodbye to the 24 years he had lived in this life. He thought of the way he was going to be killed, either by that military knife the Red Hood tucked in one of his chest pouches, or one of the AKs he carried behind his back, or would he cut off his head like he had done with the crime bosses in Gotham?

No matter the weapon, Dick was 100% sure he was gonna die right here, right now when something solid touched his cheek. It was warmer than he thought for a gun barrel, a bit leathery if his mind still worked properly.

A moment passed and the touch spread to his temple, rubbing soothing circles with what Dick would bet with the dangling life of his was a thumb. A click sound came up, closer than he expected and rang right up to his ears. Dick slowly opened his eyes, and there it was the handsome face he would die before he forgot, up so close they might be inhaling each other’s breaths right now.

“You look good like this, Officer.” He said, voice rumbling so low and close it raised the hair at the back of Dick’s neck.

When he pulled away and walked back to the kitchen island, Dick felt the sudden cold reach his whole body. He hadn’t realized the warmth of Red Hood’s body till he lost it, hadn’t really believed it had actually been Red Hood’s hand touching him gently till he saw it pull away.

“I see you’re doing your homework.” He flipped through the files Dick had laid out and played a few seconds of the video on his laptop. “I’m flattered.”

Red Hood gave a devil-may-care smirk. Dick’s mouth was still lightly gaping and lungs tight with the breaths he took. He couldn’t remember how long he had held his breath before Red Hood had pulled away, but his chest hurt with the deep inhales he took. Aside from that, he was quite shocked that Red Hoof would do all the talking.

No. Talk about shocked, between the infamous A-class international criminal Red Hood showing up at his place, said criminal showing him his bare face, said criminal not killing him in the first instant, and not killing him after he found out Officer Grayson was investigating him, he had no idea which one sounded less mental than the others.

If he survived tonight, Dick thought he might need to give himself a heart check, or get himself on a lifetime supply of Aspirin.

Damn it, he was an officer. The case he had been working on for months was standing there right in his apartment in front of his face. Think, Grayson!

“Why are you here?” Dick came closer and gripped his hand on the corner of the marble countertop.

“Can’t I just want to see your pretty face?”

Ha, it had been the second time he heard that line in the same day. Well, Bruce hadn’t put it like that, but still, same same to him.

“And what makes you think I won’t arrest you right now?” Keep talking, Grayson. He needed to keep Red Hood’s mind occupied, needed to distract him, needed to−

His hand fumbled on the empty holder tucked hidden underneath the marble countertop’s surface. His breath hitched again and when he looked up, Red Hood looked straight at him, spinning Dick’s Glock like a child toy on one hand, grinning like a damn shark.

“Too slow.”

This time, this time Dick thought he was actually gonna die.

He watched the smirk slowly turned into a nonthreatening half smile. Red Hood huffed and closed the open files before he slid off the chair, tucking Dick’s Glock into the back of his waistband like it was his own weapon now.

It was his weapon now.

“I’m not your enemy, Officer. Not tonight.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” Dick glared, watching the only thing he could use to defense himself now fall into a criminal’s hand.

Red Hood didn’t answer to that, his hand went up to motion him to stay quiet. Dick didn’t understand anything when the man turned his head aside like he was trying to pick up a sound in the silent night. Then suddenly, he picked his hood up and put it back on, finger tapping on something that turned the LED of his eyes on. He stayed like that for a couple of minutes, continuing to listen. That was when everything came up to Dick’s mind.

They were being watched.

“Get into the bedroom.”

Dick almost flinched when he heard the robotic voice, but he nodded and followed the order when Red Hood pulled out one of his massive guns. Dick ran inside and opened the drawers one by one, knocking everything aside till he found the escrima sticks lying inside.

It had been long since he used them, since he last practiced with them. Last time he put on a show with these sticks, he was still airheaded with the dream of being a GCPD police officer, was still running around in the Manor, demanding of Bruce’s attention and Alfred’s cookies.

Now they lay deep in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, slowly dusted through time.

He must have gotten lost for too long because when Red Hood touched his shoulder, he immediately jumped and grabbed his wrist, twisted it the way he knew would hurt. Red Hood was caught by surprise by it, but he didn’t make a sound.

He twisted his wrist back, arm full of strength Dick didn’t even believe was possible. He pulled his hand back, pulling Dick along with it, making him almost stumble into his chest.

“Get on the bed.” He whispered, hand slowly peeling Dick’s grip off him. He must have realized the confused look in Dick’s eyes when he said again. “Just do it.”

At moments like this, Dick could only nod and climb up on his bed. He tugged the blanket up and watched as Red Hood made his move to the window, standing just aside but his eyes were out, a position that all Police Academies taught their students how to spot a sniper without being spotted.

Dick stared at Red Hood’s cargo pants, stared at the guns and knives on his thigh’s straps, and wondered how he managed to do that, carry all those weapons so easily like they meant nothing, like they were parts of his body. Every single day Dick walked out the door with a pistol on his hip, it weighed more than its physical load, bringing him down and pinning every one of his steps with the responsibility and the capability of it.

“How many are there?” He whispered, needing to say something to break the silence between them. He felt tired of not knowing, tired of always being three steps behind what he was chasing.

“One on the rooftop, five downstairs.”

Downstairs?

“My neighbor−”

“Is not your neighbor.”

He cut Dick off, eyes still out the window, gun ready in his hands. Dick took a second to swallow the fact and continued on.

“Did they follow you here?”

Red Hood turned to look at him, the light of his helmet’s eyes in the dark bedroom seemed cold and haunting, like the full moon of a forest’s night sky.

“No.” He startled Dick, he had stayed silent for too long for him to expect the answer to come. “They’re here for you.”

“What?”

Red Hood just looked at him and stayed silent like he was trying to find a way to put it together. Dick didn’t care though, it was literally his life dangling off the cliff now, and he didn’t even know what he had done for it to lead to him into this situation.

Red Hood rubbed a hand in front of his hood, groaned out a frustrated sound that he had no right to make at all.

“What?” Dick repeated, running out of patience.

“Remember 2 weeks ago you saved my life?” He asked like Dick had actually gotten the magical ability to forget events like that. “I pissed off some really bad guys. And they didn’t seem to like the fact that you didn’t let me die.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Believe me, sugar. I don’t want to be either.”

Red Hood must have seen the way Dick glared at him irately, because he looked away instantly, going back to the view outside the window. The moonlight hit his helmet just right, making the metal shine a beautiful dim red. Dick wondered what people at the station would think if he told them he was in bed when the Red Hood showed up next to his window frame.

He shifted in the bed, tugging the blanket closer to his nose. Red Hood cocked his head to give him a look, face masked making Dick feel both uncomfortable and irritated at not being able to see his expression.

“Those guys have been following you since the day I left this place.” He was still looking out, and at this point, Dick thought it wasn’t for whatever was out there anymore, but to avoid his eyes.

“They tail you to the station, even got one as your neighbor. Learning your living habits, when you go in when you go out, are you single and living alone or have someone visiting frequently. Damn fuckers probably know what you dream about when you sleep. It only took this long for them to plan on killing you because you’re a cop.”

Red Hood said it like it was nothing, dirty booted foot resting nonchalantly on Dick’s ottoman as he bent down to pick out something on the opposite building. Dick tried to calm his breathing when he looked at the man, his stomach felt all wrong when the cargo pattern played tricks with his eyes, making him imagine the details of some kind of venomous snake.

It took him longer than he had comfortably expected to find it odd in the way Red Hood had said it.

“How do you know all of this?”

Dick could see it, could feel that something had definitely changed in the air when Red Hood’s shoulders tensed at the sentence. It took long enough for him to panic, for him to repeat the “stupid, stupid, STUPID” inside his head. He should have held his tongue.

Dick clutched tight to the escrima sticks, feeling the burn when his heart started to pound like a druggie high on nicotine dips. He should have known sooner, his instincts should have picked up the signs, should have seen that this was all just a play, and the real enemy was right here in his room, holding machine guns and dynamite right on his watch.

“Listen−”

Red Hood cut off, just as unexpectedly as he had started, and snapped his head toward the window, holding a gun that looked like a crossbreed of a pistol and a military shotgun, and fired.

He fired.

He fired and the loud bang Dick had expected to hear didn’t even come, muted by the muffler stuck on the top of the barrel.

Dick took a few good seconds to lay there in the bed dumbfoundedly, brain stopped and heart seized. His mind was still scrambled when he found the courage to slowly sit up, eyes open wide staring at the man.

“Did you jus−”

“I did.”

Dick’s breath hitched.

“Is he…”

“He is.”

Red Hood said as he took off his helmet, shook his hair free and looked straight at him with piercing blue eyes. Dick felt himself caught in his gaze like a fish in the net.

“I said it already, didn’t I? I’m not your enemy.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Dick glared, still not very sure how to react correctly.

“What if it’s too embarrassing that I don’t want you to know?”

“What’s too embarrassing?”

“You…” Red Hood snapped halfheartedly and got tongue-tied, Dick didn’t know if the red face belonged to his anger or embarrassment, probably both. He heard him mumble something like ‘Dickface’.

“I watched you, okay?” Red Hood spat out, finally. “I watched you wake up and go off every day, I watched you play dumb head hero out on the streets, watched your shit living schedule and your shit eating habits. I don’t even want to know how you sleep 4 hours a day and still are able act like a 5 years old on a sugar high.”

For a while, Dick just stared at him, watching the faint redness spread to Red Hood’s ears like a drunken man.

“And that happened before or after you found out I was targeted?”

Red Hood avoided his eyes and stayed silent.

“Red?”

“Before, okay?!” Red Hood snapped again. “Jesus, keep bitching about it and I’ll let you die tonight.”

They both knew he wouldn’t do that.

“What about the others?”

“They’re coming. Stay in here.” He strapped the big gun back on his back, and pulled out two pistols, checked the bullets, and clicked off the safety.

“What? No, I’m coming with you.”

Red Hood turned and looked at Dick like he had spoken in another language.

“Are you stupid or something? Those men are mercenaries, and they have firearms.”

“And I’m a cop.”

“I don’t see why that reason alone is fucking enough to you.” Red Hood looked like he was just two seconds away from knocking Dick’s head out.

He inhaled and swore and turned back to look at Dick all over again before reaching for the knife on his thigh strap.

“Take this. And stay behind me!” He gave the knife to Dick and ordered, eyes serious.

“I don’t need it.” Dick frowned.

“Of fucking course you need it. Did those law courses suck all the living will out of you?”

“I don’t want it.” He pushed the knife back to Red Hood’s hand and held the escrima sticks up. “I have these.”

“What…” Red Hood took one solid second to look at them before shaking his head. “No, nope, no. You’re not fighting with that shit. Either you take the knife or a fucking gun, or stay here and wait till I get back. Do you hear me?”

“No, I have to go. I can’t let you kill all those men.”

“What!!?”

The sound of the front door slamming open startled both of them. Red Hood grunted angrily before pushing Dick down on the bed and pointing an accusing finger towards his face.

“You stay here.” He commanded and put his hood back on.

Before Dick could protest, he kicked the bedroom door open and closed it again. The next second was chaos, a blended mixture of colorful curses, painful screams, furniture smashing and gunshots fired. He heard the sound of bodies hitting the floor, of people choking on their own blood, and felt nauseous. Dick didn’t know where Red Hood had found the thought that locking him here inside his own bedroom while he went out there going on his killing spree with people that were here to kill Dick, would be such a thoughtful idea. He was, by all mean, scared, but no delicate flower was he. While the files Bruce had given him today didn’t do much help his investigation, those people out there might help.

Red Hood said something about pissing them off, or pissing their boss off, maybe he was trying to do business with them. Maybe other forces on the streets were working together to put off the big bad wolf with the red helmet. Maybe a gang war was happening right now under the BPD’s neglecting eyes.

Either way, Dick couldn’t ignore it. Those people out there, whether they were here to kill Dick or not, they weren’t just dummy bags for Red Hood to play shoot and run with anymore.

The moment he kicked the door open, Red Hood was in the middle of choking some guy to the point that his tongue poked out. His kitchen was a mess, the bowl of cereal had been smashed to pieces, left-over milk running down his wooden floor and wetting an unconscious guy’s head with it. Glass was shattered everywhere, and one of his chairs was now hanging on another unconscious guy’s neck, broken with splinters poking out everywhere. Luckily for Dick, his only neighbor now turned out to be not his neighbor anymore.

The whole room turned to look at him for one solid second. Dick didn’t know what had hit him to think that that Red Hood was making a facial expression.

Dick wished that second was a bit longer, just a bit longer so he wouldn’t have to regret running out at gun point with nothing but stupid sticks in his hands. A gun pointed at his head and in a mere tick so many more. Red Hood shouted something that didn’t quite reach his ears but Dick was already moving, sliding on the floor and back behind his sofa like a piece of soap on the bathroom floor.

It didn’t take long for someone to walk over to his place. This one didn’t carry a gun, and Dick kicked his ankles on instinct, jamming his head with the butt of his escrima. He got up and got a mere second to look at the situation. He charged up the escrima sticks, waited for them to shoot out some electricity and got up, yelling.

“Red, duck!”

The escrima came flying and hit the one on Red Hood’s back as he dodged it in time, electrocuting him and sending him down to the floor, shaking like a dying fish.

There was only one guy left, and to Dick’s surprise, it was his neighbor.

“Mark…”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Nothing personal.” He raised his gun and pointed at Dick.

“Don’t do this, Mark.” Dick didn’t know if he sounded right or not, but his lips started shaking as the barrel staring point blank towards him.

“You have no idea who you pis−”

Mark didn’t get to finish his words as a hole marched on his forehead. Blood splattered on Dick’s chest before Mark’s body went down with a loud thump, revealing Red Hood behind him, holding Dick’s Glock with the barrel still smoking.

Dick’s knees started trembling as he looked down at Mark’s body, at the blood pooling around his head.

“Why did you kill him?” His voice came out, could barely win a breath, shaking and breathless like he had been choked by invisible hands.

“Because he tried to kill you.”

When Dick looked at him, it wasn’t digital eyes that stared back at him anymore. Dick felt like he could sink into the blue of those eyes, so cold yet so tender. A gentle hand came up to touch his cheek, rubbing lightly.

He smiled, so charming and warm Dick didn’t know what to do. “You’re okay now.”

He took off his gloves and this time, this time his warm skin touched Dick’s, sending electricity down to the very core of his whole body. This was the first time they had been this close that Dick didn’t feel like dying. Sharp eyes and crooked brows, straight nose, perfect cheekbones, lightly tanned skin but fading, neat undercut hair that was short enough to never get out of place even with the helmet. In another scene, Dick might have mistaken him with a soldier, a very handsome one.

Something about him, so tall and big and looking down at Dick had his heart beating in a whole new way.

“Do you wanna call the police?” He asked, so suddenly it startled Dick a bit.

“I’m the police.”

Red Hood huffed.

“Call your friends then.” He smiled again and ruffled Dick’s hair before walking into his bedroom, leaving him behind standing dumbfounded and not knowing what to think or do about that.

Dick had just gotten back from patrol when Amy was waiting for him by the door and motioned him to come to her desk. She gave him the look like she was ready to gut him and eat his organs. The paper coffee cup in her hands was pushed forward, abandoned.

“Are you going to talk about it?”

He knew what she was asking about, knew she was one of the only honest cops left, one he could totally trust. He looked around to check if anyone was eavesdropping on them, and turned back to look at her.

“Does it matter now?”

“This is no time for one of your stupid jokes, Grayson. You’re testing my patience.” She glared at him as her hands entwined and pushed beneath her chin. “You didn’t write the report, did you? It’s not even your pretty curvy handwriting, Wayne didn’t pay good money for you to paint chicken scratch like that. Is it Clay? Or Teller? Did the guys even give you the papers or did they just fill them in on their own?!”

She dumped the report down in front of his face, lips pulled into a thin line.

“I know how this department works, I know you know it too. And I know things must not have been easy for you since moving here, compared to the life you had in Gotham. You’re a good kid, I’ll give you that, but life in here isn’t a Hollywood movie, there are boundaries that we must not cross, not because we can’t, but because we shouldn’t. Do you understand?”

Dick stayed silent, watching her cup of coffee instead of looking into her eyes. Amy slumped back into her chair, she must be feeling frustrated dealing with him.

“It’s organized crime,” She said, finally. A sigh escaped her lips as her fingers lightly tapped on the wooden surface of her table. “Like in the old days, back in the 80’s and early 2000’s, when everybody knew each other, would be eating with the Mafia−same guys who remember your grandmother at Christmas and buy you ice cream. Truth be told? They kept the streets clean of scumbags. Burglars, rapists, pedophiles? Their bodies would end up ground and rotting on Highway 61.”

Her coffee cup lightly trembled under the rhythm of her fingers.

“Organized crime was a good thing, the best Bludhaven could hope for right now.” She continued. “At least they had a code, didn’t believe in beating up old ladies, carjackings, home invasions, molesting kids, shooting you in the head for your wallet. Or for no reason at all.”

She looked at Dick, and her eyes made Dick wonder that growing up under her motherhood must be real difficult.

“Last night five bodies were found in your apartment, three already died, one in a coma with only 10% chance of ever waking up, and this morning the Feds came and took the other away, all with 10 years in jail or criminal records. And what was on your report again?” She picked up the document in a halfhearted attempt and spoke in a mocking tone. “Self-defense violence?! I know you’re impressive with your… talents.” She decided. “I checked your profile myself when you first came here, people at the Academy really liked you, you finished your training in what? 19 weeks? Fastest time ever recorded since 2004. Had a bright spot to West Point Prep, but no, you chose this shithole instead.”

She stopped, waited for Dick to say something, but then gave up.

“I know you didn’t do all of this. Too violent for even a normal cop, not to mention you. The Grayson I’ve worked with in the last 13 months wouldn’t go for headshots or stab someone in the back with a kitchen knife 14 times just in defense.”

“I…”

“Oh, he can talk. I’m not done yet, Grayson.”

“Sorry.”

Amy stopped her tapping and forced Dick to look at her without even trying. She had her ways, a strong fine woman like her always had her ways. She took a minute to look away, made it look like she was too tired to see his tired face, eyes glancing around to see if anyone was around close enough to pick up what they were saying.

“Grayson,” She said.

“Yes?”

“Are you in trouble?”

He thought of Red Hood, of the way he had made his way inside his apartment like it was his home, thought of the way he had constantly taken off his hood to show Dick his face whenever he could, had smiled at him so wickedly, his hand had touched Dick so gently. He thought of how much Red Hood had surprised him when his face heated up and his ears had turned red when he was embarrassed.

He wondered whether all of that was trouble or not.

“I know with the investigation you are doing, the Red Hood case that seems to keep sucking you in, it’s dangerous.” Amy warned him, her eyes suddenly didn’t seem so scary anymore. “Organized crime is a good thing, but still, Red Hood is Mafia, and Mafia are criminal, don’t push them to their limits.”

If he told her he was almost murdered last night thanks to Red Hood, but was also saved last night thanks to Red Hood again, would she believe him?

Probably.

“I’m fine, Amy.” He smiled, hoping she would stop staring at the bags under his eyes. “I know when I should run or not.”

She was about to say something else, but decided against it. She nodded and waited till Dick was half way out of the door to call after him.

“Hey Grayson,”

“Yeah?”

“If you die, I don’t want Wayne knocking on my door asking questions, understood?”

That was her way of saying she didn’t want him dead.

“Understood.”

It was late dawn when Dick slumped back into his apartment, too exhausted to even take off his shoes without leaning on the wall. His phone slipped out of his pocket and dropped down on the floor, Dick didn’t even care to pick it up and turned back to lock his door, he had already decided that today was more than enough. He was too tired to eat, to answer the door if someone came and asked for something.

He was ready to stay dead to the world for a good 5 hours before his shift came up. Tomorrow he needed to make a call to Gordon, or at least send him a thank you note for trying to help. He needed to get a new pistol too, now that his belonged to Red Hood.

It took him longer than necessary to pick up the phone, but in the end, he was too tired to even move a few muscles. He was more than ready to land face first on the couch when he saw him, sitting on the countertop.

“Jesus Christ!” He jumped, hand on his chest when Red Hood gave him a wicked grin.

“Told ya your security is shit.” He said, no helmet today, no armor either. Taking a complete look at him, Dick realized Red Hood was here in civilian clothes. Prada leather jacket, Levi’s jeans, premium denim, $80? Could be more. Dr. Martin boots, black, high neck, thick lugged sole, size 11, authentic no doubt, that one should be around $150.

Good thing about growing up with Bruce was that you had to have a good eye, good thing about growing up with Alfred was that you had to have good taste in everything.

He wore gloves, thick, brown, leather ones that were meant for bikers and not for showoffs. Dick had spotted a red Ducati Monster parked down on the sideway in front of his apartment building, had been curious about it since not a lot of people in town were bikers, and especially, not a lot of people in town could afford to spend that much money on a bike.

There were two plastic bags behind him, and suddenly Dick remembered the crime bosses’ heads that this man had cut off then stuffed into a duffle bag to send to the police.

Red Hood must have noticed he was staring at them too, he grinned and jumped off the island, unfolding the bags and showing Dick his back so unconcernedly.

“I brought Thai, also got half of a Guangdong roast duck in this bag, had to make a detour for it but damn, the thing smells good.” He pointed at the other bag. “You haven’t eaten anything today, just like usual. Couldn’t cook since I didn’t wanna scare you off that fast.”

He went around and opened the cabinets and started taking out dishes with two bowls.

“But, I also don’t want it to look like takeouts, what kind of gentleman would that make me if I do?” He slowly dumped all the food in the containers out on the dishes and placed the duck pieces carefully into a circle. When all done, he gave his finger a lick and whistled low.

“Et voila!”

He washed his hands and motioned Dick to come and sit. Dick, who was looking at him with all the blood drained out of his face, and was 2 steps away from running back to the station.

It only took him two seconds to grab the nearest object and fling it towards Red Hood. The guy caught it, as expected, Dick slammed into him, knocking him down to the floor with his body and fumbled behind his back for the handcuffs.

“Woah, easy tiger. Not right on the first date.” He still had guts to joke around, lips pulling into a wide grin and showing white teeth while Dick pressed on his back and pulled his wrists together.

It was annoying to admit this wasn’t the first time a criminal tried to flirt with him.

“Red Hood, you’re under arrest for drug trafficking, producing illegal weapons, committing arson, bribing legal forces, terrorism, assault with deadly weapons, mass murder, kidnapping and operating illegal gang activities. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” Dick read his rights and snapped the handcuffs closed.

“Ah, so you do remember your homework.”

“Let’s hope all that dirty money you make can afford you the best lawyer in town.”

“Ooh it sure can. But is that really how you’re gonna say thanks to your knight in shiny armor last night?” He smirked.

“Remain silent, please. You’re not as charming as you thi−Wah!”

Red Hood turned on his full force, knocking Dick on his back down to the floor. In a swift he was up and on Dick, handcuffs off his wrists now twirling on his index finger as he gave him a wolfish smirk.

“You haven’t seen me trying.” He leaned down and blew the words into Dick’s ear, raising baby hairs at the back of his neck.

Red Hood stood up after that, and Dick fumbled to get up, didn’t dare to let this man out of his sight for once. Red Hood seemed to take Dick’s anger and glaring as threatening as the frustration of a stray kitten. He walked behind the island and pulled up a black backpack, opened it, and took out two bottles of wine.

Dick didn’t even want to question why he carried wine in his backpack, but the idea kept flying around his head like an annoying bee.

“Which one is better with shrimp?” He asked.

Dick took a better look at the bottles, stayed silent for a minute, then asked.

“What kind of shrimp?”

Red Hood checked the dish in front of him. “Fried, spicy with a bit of sauce, got a hint of lime in them.”

“The 2000 Ladoucette Sancerre Blanc.”

“What about the other?”

“The La Stella Moscato D’asti? Good with smoked salmon, grilled pancetta shrimp, and garlic bread.” Before Dick could stop, Alfred’s lessons poured back out like an opened champagne.

Red Hood smiled at him, soft and sweet like Dick was his summer lover. He turned and dug around his cabinets again for two glasses, setting them down on the table.

“Let’s eat.”

Only then did he turn on the light in the kitchen, not the new bulb Dick had installed by himself when he first moved in, but the old one that came along with this place, dangling right on top of the dining table. The thing had looked so old and lonely Dick had to put a little DIY into it, had had to wrap old electric cord around a balloon, spray painted and coated it with walnut stain. It flickered a bit before shining decently, giving out an unhealthy orangey light that made the shrimp and the curry on the table look redder than usual.

Red Hood pulled a chair out for him, waiting.

“If you put anything in the food…” Dick voiced out when he was pushed down in the chair, eyeing the table suspiciously.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve tested this guy’s patience quite a lot tonight.” He poured the wine out in both glass and sat down. “Alright, let’s dig in.”

Dick watched Red Hood sipping his wine and eating a few pieces of duck, he would nudge his fork on his hand once in a while to encourage him to eat the food. The duck was good, crispy on the skin and the meat was quite tender and sweet, the curry was a little too spicy for him, but he was glad the shrimp were seasoned lighter, and it really went well with the wine.

Red Hood watched him all the time and kept smiling. It made Dick feel unsure about how he should react to that.

“So, why Bludhaven?” He asked suddenly, while pouring more wine into Dick’s glass.

“The Blud is small with little people, and it has nothing to do with him.”

Red Hood took in a big bite of chicken with cashew nuts, and Dick appreciated that he didn’t ask any further questions about “him”.

“So, why Bludhaven?” Dick asked, repeating the question.

“Small place, too many little fears.” He answered nonchalantly. “Best way to stop it is to become the most feared.”

“You want to stop the chaos in the Blud? Like the way you do in Gotham?!”

Red Hood looked at him and sipped his wine, eyeing him carefully before setting the glass down, tapping it lightly.

“Chaos and vice are… unavoidable.” He said. “They are like rats and cockroaches on the streets, no matter how hard you keep it clean they will still exist, lurking in the dark and waiting for an opportunity to breed and grow.”

He got up and took both his and Dick’s plates away, dumping them into the dishwasher and went back to his chair. He licked his slightly chapped lips, eyes on the wall for a few seconds before they were back on Dick.

“You can’t kill crime, it’s part of our nature, part of the society. That’s why I control it, all the rats and cockroaches on the streets live by my rules, listen to my words, and follow my orders, then they get to eat, and they get to live. I protect the streets, by controlling the devils on them.”

“That’s a twisted way to do it.”

“Twisted, indeed, but efficient.”

Amy had told him about this, about organized crime and the way it helped the people living with it. So far Red Hood had gone way against everything Dick had spent strength and time on learning about him, and Dick didn’t know what to do about that. Didn’t know if saying he agreed would make him a traitor to everything he had worked for, didn’t know if he should even let this man keep getting this close.

It was like a Rubik’s cube, the more he tried to shape it back in order, the more it went wrong.

“Why…”

“Hum?”

“Why are you here, tonight?” Dick asked, not quite looking at him. “Why did you buy me dinner, why are you telling me all of this?”

He had to know, he just had to know. Red Hood could have killed him at anytime if he wanted, could have let him die yesterday, but he hadn’t. He out of all people should know Dick could never be swayed easily either, not by good food or even attractive smiles.

Red Hood glanced at him, testing. Testing whether he should give away the honest answer, Dick could see it, could read it in the way his eyes flickered on his face like an open book. He had always been good at reading people, and now the helmet was out of his way, he felt better at it than ever.

“Officer Grayson,”

His voice sounded strange this time, lower than normal, raspy like the words had to fight their way to the surface.

“Yes…” Dick gasped when Red Hood got up off his chair and into his personal space, face closer and closer by the second.

“I think I’m in trouble.” He whispered and it raised all the goosebumps on Dick’s skin.

Dick smelled him, like mint and gunpowder, cigarette tar and newly baked bread, homely and so mundane, he felt their sleeves brushing each other, felt his presence, pulling him in like gravity.

“Why?” His question was barely whispered, but it caught his ears and his fingers were up to gently catch Dick’s chin.

“I’m not drugged now.”

In the first few seconds, or maybe even minutes, Dick didn’t seem to mind the meaning of it, was too occupied by Red Hood’s mouth on his. To his surprise, his kiss wasn’t as rough as his appearance might seem, his lips mumbled on Dick’s, asking for permission that kept throwing him off.

Dick did flinch when his hand snaked up to catch the back of his neck, but he cooed him back to the safety zone by feathering kisses on the corner of his lips. He only moved further when Dick had settled back, his tongue got in and flickered playfully at his teeth. Dick grabbed onto his jacket out of instinct, needing something to hold on to when it felt like the world was spinning too fast.

It was slow and gentle, yet the ground beneath his feet became unsteady. If he didn’t hold tight to Red Hood, Dick was afraid he was gonna fall off his chair.

When Red Hood’s lips left his, and their foreheads met each other, he looked into Dick’s eyes in the way Dick never thought a man like him could. After tonight, Dick didn’t even know what kind of man he was anymore.

They breathed and just stayed silent to catch the air their lungs needed, the room was turning warmer as Red Hood’s hands were still on him. Dick remembered it then, about what the man had said, about him not being drugged anymore. Last time they had kissed, so quick and sudden, Red Hood had been high on pain medication, had had that rush of leftover adrenaline from the fight he had had before, had needed a distraction to drug Dick to sleep, to find an escape route because it was clear he wouldn’t let a wanted criminal get away just like that, or so Dick assumed.

He was fully conscious this time, no drugs in the system nor reason to run away. And he smiled at Dick, just like so many times he had tonight, so warmly and fondly it had his chest aching and melting.

Only when Red Hood moved to kiss his cheek, Dick realized that maybe he was in trouble too.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #writing prompt #my fic

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lopithecusfanfiction · 7 years

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A Life So Changed: Chapter Twenty-Six

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2185 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Author's Note: N/A

Chapter Twenty-Six:

Oliver arrives at the time that he had indicated. He isn’t even a minute late or early. Bruce is sitting at the end of the dining room table when Oliver walks into the room. It’s a long table and so he had decided to sit on the side that way Oliver could sit across from him and not be miles away. There are flowers and a lit candle in between them.

Oliver looks around the room and then at Bruce’s black button up and slacks. He hums approvingly. “I didn’t realize this was going to be so formal. I would have dressed up myself.” He’s wearing a forest green t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans.

Bruce squirms in his seat. “It’s okay.”

“Are those new?” Oliver asks, indicating to his clothes.

“My other clothes got too small.” Oliver nods in understanding. “Alfred bought them the other day. They don’t hide my stomach anymore but…” he shrugs. “I’m not going out.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. That’s why I suggested we eat here.” Oliver picks up his fork and knife, starting to dig into his steak. Bruce does the same. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“The other day.” Oliver pauses in his eating, setting his utensils down. “I’m not apologizing Oliver.”

“You took Clark’s side which I really shouldn’t be surprised with since he’s Clark.”

Bruce sets his own utensils down, his frustration already starting to rise. “Oliver, I wasn’t taking anyone’s side.”

Oliver shrugs. “And I’m just supposed to believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Oliver opens his mouth to say something but then closes it, looking down and at the table. “Oliver?”

“I have to go back to Star City for a few days,” he says, looking up once more.

The statement takes Bruce by surprise. “Why?”

Oliver sighs, starting to eat again. “Business. You know how it is. There’s some things I need to take care of there for Queen Industries that can only be done back home. Plus, the Green Arrow has been missing for a little too long. I figured he should make an appearance.”

“Are you staying there?”

“No,” Oliver says which surprises Bruce again. “Bruce, just because we are arguing doesn’t mean I’m going to break up with you and go back to Star City for good. That’s not how relationships work. There’s going to be arguments and we’ll have to work through them.”

“But you won’t even talk to me, Ollie. You didn’t even answer my previous question.”

Oliver sighs again. “Look, Bruce, you and Clark are best friends. I just… I feel a bit threatened by that.”

“You don’t have to be,” Bruce tells him. Oliver studies him with his lips pursed, thinking. “Ollie?”

“I know,” Oliver says quietly, looking down and at his plate of food. “I’m sorry for the way I acted with Clark. I shouldn’t have. The next time I see him or Superman or whatever, then I’ll apologize to him too.”

Bruce isn’t sure if Oliver means it but he doesn’t want to get into another fight right now so he takes it. Instead he asks, “When do you leave for Star City?”

“Tonight.”

“That’s… sooner than I thought.”

Oliver eyes him. “I know but I need to be back for tomorrow morning.”

“Are you meeting with board members?” Oliver nods, taking a sip of his red wine. Bruce has some sparkling water to substitute the drink with. “They’re going to ask you about me. What are you going to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

Bruce hesitates. He had told Clark that Oliver is his mate but should he keep the lie up? Clark thinking that is one thing. A whole board of directors thinking it, is completely another thing. One of Oliver’s eyebrows raises as he waits for Bruce’s response. The media has already spun their first date into meaning they’re mates so it wouldn’t be too farfetched to make the board directors believe the same thing, but Bruce isn’t sure that’s what he wants. Still, it’s probably for the best. Biting his lip, Bruce finally responds. “Tell them I’m your mate.”

Oliver’s other eyebrow raises now. “Really?” Bruce nods. “But I haven’t even bitten you yet. Hell, you haven’t even let me knot you.”

“I told you why I haven’t.”

Oliver raises his hands in a placating manner. “I know and I understand. I have no problem with it, I swear. I’m still completely willing to wait. It’s just… it’s going to be a bit hard for the directors to believe me when they haven’t even seen you with a bite mark.”

“Oliver, I haven’t even been out in public for almost a month. No one has seen me with a bite mark.”

“Then wouldn’t it make more sense to tell them that we are thinking about being mates?”

“No,” Bruce says, swallowing thickly. “Because we are mates.” Bruce’s mouth is suddenly dry and so he takes a drink of his sparkling water.

Oliver’s eyes have grown wide. “You… want to be mates?” Bruce nods. “Really?”

Bruce forces a chuckle. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and I think we should.”

“Well… that’s honestly very surprising.”

“It was the obvious next step, Ollie.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just thought I would have to wait longer because you’re Batman.” Oliver gives him a cheeky smile and it causes Bruce to smile genuinely back at him. “But you won’t find me saying no to being your mate.”

Bruce nods, smile still in place. “Good.”

*~~~*

Later that night, Bruce is sitting in the lounge, texting Oliver. He’s boarding the plane now and so will have to go soon but Oliver wanted to keep in touch until then. Bruce isn’t sure if Oliver is just worried about their relationship and that is why, or if he’s giddy at Bruce wanting to be his mate. Either way, it’s not long before Oliver tells him that he can’t text anymore and will contact him again when he lands. He ends the text with a heart emoji and Bruce forces himself to send one back.

Bruce sets his phone down on the coffee table and rubs his face with both hands. He’s got more sparkling water but really wishes it was wine or better yet, scotch, so he can drink himself into a stupor and forget the hole he just dug himself. He still doesn’t love Oliver and he’s not sure why he is trying to force himself to be with him. It’s not like him. It’s not like him at all. But he needs to get over Clark. He needs to finally move on. Him pining after someone who doesn’t love him back has gone on long enough. Besides, maybe Tim is right. Maybe Oliver will do him some good and help him move on. Maybe eventually he will love Oliver the way he loves Clark.

With a sigh, Bruce stands up, deciding to go to bed early. He’s tired and wants to try and get some sleep for once. He’s half way across the room when the alarms in the house sound. Bruce freezes. The boys are out on patrol and Alfred has gone out to the twenty-four-hour minimart to pick some things up that Dick had neglected to get during his last grocery run that Alfred had sent him on. So Bruce is currently home alone.

Reaching to his watch, Bruce presses a button on the side of it and shuts the alarm off. Then he goes to the fireplace and picks up the fireplace poker. Once he’s gotten that, he starts to slowly make his way to the entrance of the cave. He doesn’t even get half way there before he hears the click of a gun. Turning around, he sees a man with a ski mask on standing there, pointing a gun at him. “Drop it.”

Bruce weighs his options. Being Batman, he could easily take this guy on but he isn’t currently Batman. Instead he’s a pregnant omega. He’s carry a baby that might or might not be invincible. If he miscalculates due to the extra weight of the baby and moves slower or wrong and then gets shot, he has no way of knowing if the baby will survive that. He can’t take that chance.

With a growl, Bruce lowers the poker to the floor. “Good boy,” the intruder mocks. He then motions to something with his head. Eyes growing wide, Bruce spins around and sees another person standing behind him. Bruce is about to step back away from him but the guy was ready and sticks a needle into his neck. Bruce slaps his hand away and stumbles backwards, hand going to his neck. “What was that?” he asks in alarm, his first thought going to the baby.

“Don’t worry Brucie,” the first guy begins. “It was just a mild sedative.”

Bruce swallows, his vision starting to get blurry and spin. Panic rises in his chest. If they gave him too much of a high dose, then it could harm the baby. “Wh-what do you want?”

The guy laughs manically. “You obviously.”

Bruce stumbles again, trying to stay awake. He needs to get away from them. He reaches out a hand to the wall to steady himself. “Why?”

The other intruder, the one that gave him the sedative, walks up to him and grabs a hold of his shoulder. Bruce tries to shrug him off but only ends up falling to the floor. “You’re going to make us rich, Brucie.”

“Yeah,” he hears the other guy say. “Hopefully your family is the type to pay.” The last thing Bruce hears is the two men laughing before he passes out.

*~~~*

Bruce wakes up with a start, his hands and arms feeling numb. They are above his head and when Bruce looks up groggily, he sees that his wrists are bound with rope to the ceiling. Bruce looks around the room and by the looks of it, he is currently in an abandoned building. Bruce’s throat and mouth are extremely dry and he wishes he had something to drink but he doubts the men that took him will give him anything.

Said men are in front of him, setting up a video camera that is pointing at Bruce. One of them, the one that had the gun earlier, notices Bruce is awake. “Well, hello Brucie.” He walks up to him, knife now in his hand. “How are you feeling?” Bruce spits on his face and the man, who Bruce can finally smell is an alpha, growls at him and presses the knife to his throat. “Why you filthy omega!”

“Hey, Roger, don’t hurt him,” the other guy warns. Taking a sniff of the air, Bruce smells that he is a beta.

“Shut up Michael. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to this omega scum.” Roger turns an evil grin onto Bruce, bringing the knife up to his cheek. “If I want to hurt him, I’ll hurt him.” He cuts Bruce’s cheek. “If I want to humiliate him, I’ll humiliate him.” He points to the camera. “And,” he continues, his smile turning sultry with an evil sparkle. “If I want to fuck him, I’ll fuck him.” Bruce tries to pull away when Roger presses into him, the knife cutting away his button up, but the ropes restrain him. When his shirt is fully cut open, Roger’s eyes rake over his body. They falter, however, when they reach his stomach. Then, Roger’s smile changes one more time to mischievous. “Well, well, well, would you look it here? Hey, Michael, come look at this, Brucie has been hiding something from the world.”

Michael abandons the camera and walks over, looking at where Roger is pointing. “Holy, shit, the dude is pregnant.”

“That he is, Michael, and guess what that means?” Roger wraps an arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Double the ransom. We take what we initially were going to ask for and double it because now there is a baby involved.”

Michael pushes Roger away. “No way, dude! I didn’t sign on to hurt someone who is pregnant.”

“Are you backing out, Mikey?” Roger asks, pointing the knife at him.

Michael’s eyes dart to the knife and he swallows. He then looks at Bruce briefly and back to Roger. “No, of course, not Roger.”

“Good.” Roger claps his hands together once. “Now, let’s get this show on the road.” He approaches Bruce and grabs a hold of his button up. “We want to make sure we get a good shot of this baby bump of his.”

“Fuck you!” Bruce spits at him, trying once more to get out of the rope.

Roger laughs as Michael brings another syringe up to him. “Oh, I think that’s the last thing you’re going to be thinking about once we’re done with you.” He presses the needle to Bruce’s neck and Bruce flinches away. “Let’s see how you and the baby here handle some fear toxin.” He laughs manically as he injects the serum into Bruce’s neck.

A/N: Thanks for reading!!

#DC Comics #SuperBat #Superman #Batman #Clark Kent #Bruce Wayne #A Life So Changed #My Fanfiction #sfw

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iphoenixrising · 6 years

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I said I was kind of going on a hiatus. Too many things in my brain pan, but I connected with such a wonderful person, @careamorran, and had to write a thing based on a spectacular piece of art :D The post is here, and I really just wanted a little fun and maybe a little angst ;)

The blast of sunlight in his eyes is the conscious train rolling down the track. You know, right at his face.

After his syrupy thoughts evaluated the stabbing to his eyes as something non-lethal, the need to throw something sharp and vaguely bat-shaped at the defenseless windows fades enough that he can squint at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

Dammit.

He and Jay have plans for the day. Partially because it’s been two years today, and since Jason Todd is actually a sentimental cinnamon roll underneath the intense murder you vibe, Tim had managed to wrangle his reluctant significant other into finally getting the new ident set-up. It’s been a long time coming, and they’ve been arguing on and off about seeing to the details for weeks.

(“Things like a driver’s license, Jay.”)

(A careless shrug with a mouth full of meatball sub, “I drive, Timmers. I drive all the time.”)

(“Legally. The key here is legally.”)

His boyfriend had finally caved for their anniversary, and Tim would be damned if they missed the opportunity because of a long night in Gotham’s seedy underworld.

(Black Mask? Totally an ass hat, and no, he gives no shits about ruining the guy’s night. Seriously, fuck him. Mask literally hit on the Red Hood, right in front of him.)

With a soft groan of the newly conscious, Tim sits up, still wavery, and in desperate need of caffeine.

Desperate. Need.

The yawn is jaw-cracking, and he’s already reaching over for the lump of still-snoozing, just a tuft of dark hair peeking out from under their fluffy comforter in Jay’s room at the Manor.

If he grins a little, thinking someone as bad ass as the Red Hood is incredibly cute, well, no one else would ever have to know.

“Jay,” his voice still husky is bordering on fond, “we should get up, it’s late.”

He’s expected the inevitable, “where’s m’ good morning kiss, Timmy?” and to be pulled back down because Jay is really just as bad as Dick when it comes to pre-consciousness cuddling.

The hand moving fast to grab his wrist, to stop him from making contact isn’t necessarily unexpected because of reasons like ingrained instincts and Robin training. The occasional accidental injuries aren’t anything new. At times, it might be things like terrible nightmares or remnants of the Lazarus Pit. On the flip side, it might be residual panic because instead of Kon or Bart or Steph or Bruce, it’s Jason spitting out a mouth full of blood and gripping his harness with wide eyes and stuttering heart.

“Hey, calm down, it’s just--”

And whatever he’d been about to say in the usual soothing way dies in his throat when Jay turns, still in the t-shirt he’d thrown in before they’d fallen into bed last night, and--

Tim’s eyes go wide in shock and surprise.

Who the fuck is in bed with me!?

The set of jawline and ensuing frown is so painfully familiar--

From that time when Tim was a kid with a camera and Robin dove in out of the night to save him from a thug.

A Robin in his prime.

A Robin that’s fifteen instead of twenty-five.

Holy shit, Batman.

“Oh…” is about all his half-wired brain can muster.

Those eyes, the same ones from the painting in the main hall that used to be one of his safe places, the eyes without the green flecks, take stock, roving over Tim’s sleep-mussed hair, his face, his bare throat and chest, his too-big boxers.

And something seems to click.

“WHAAT THE FUUUCK?!!”

Is about as horrified as you can imagine.

The ensuing fight is really anticlimactic. Jason has aged-down equivalently, so while he can still duck, dodge, and fight better than any average person, he doesn’t have memories further than now meanwhile Tim hasn’t lost an ounce of his edge.

“You need to calm it down, Robin,” he tries while blocking a punch that is decidedly lower than what he’s used to. Yeah, throwing out that little bombshell is really a 50/50, but nothing else he can possibly say would help either:

*I’m your boyfriend, and you will be seriously pissed at yourself if you hurt me.

*I was the Robin after you, promise. I only got pants because those green panties were a hard ‘no.’

*You haven’t tried killing me in a whole year. Can we stop trying to break the record?

As it turns out, maybe he should have because those eyes go wide and the fight takes on a more desperate turn.

Well, fuck.

He catches the knee before it takes out his jaw, his suddenly longer reach catching the much smaller fist in the palm of his hand. “That’s enough, Jay. You’re going to--” get yourself hurt.

But the younger is panting and red-face, gritting his teeth with narrowed eyes, and an obvious plan in the works when he realizes he’s not going to beat Tim.

“Who,” and the tone isn’t as low and growling as the Red Hood, but it still jars Tim right in all the places where he’s still mesmerized by the second Robin, “the fuck are you and how didja find out?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I’m going to let Bruce and Dick fill you in,” he replies, easing back slowly.

The teenager’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“How about this then: you hide books all over the Manor. Alfred found A Separate Peace, The Outsiders, 1984, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Once and Future King just to name a few.” He leaves the ones he’s found off the list just because the memories of his post-Robin life are apparently gone, and Tim is in no hurry to fill him in on the horrific events starting with the trip to Ethiopia.

Jason’s mouth falls open in a little ‘o’ of shock.

“One more just so you feel better about this: the first time B got hurt, seriously hurt, defending you, you called Dick at Titan’s Tower in New York.” His hands up in that not dangerous pose, he eases just slightly closer, tilting his head to actually look down. “It was that time with Killer Croc and you were freaked out.”

“How--” the teenager struggles, blinking at him with those blue, blue eyes, all of it without the Pit’s influence riding him.

With that realization, a horrible kind of plan hits Tim right in the brain pan.

“I know you’re Robin, so there’s some evidence, Mister Junior Detective.”

Jay gives him a huffing sneer, “real wise ass, ain’t cha?”

“Learned from the best,” he deadpans with a sad half-smile and fond eyes, “So, I vote we go downstairs, find Alfred so I can have some coffee, and then Bruce so he can have a holy shit moment of his own.”

Still staring at him, still calculating the risks and possible nefarious plots afoot, Jason only follows because he’s planning the best way to take this guy he’d woken up with down (and maybe staring down at his ass) while they went down the grand staircase.

Luckily, as it happens to go in Wayne Manor, at least someone has the patience to deal with things like utter fuckery.

That person will always be Alfred Pennyworth.

“Good morning Master--”

If Tim wasn’t as light and fast on his feet, there would be a whole lot of smashed ceramic all over the floor.

“My-my word, Master...Master Jason?”

“Mornin’ Alf,” the teenager waves a little, grinning sheepishly. “Found Slick here runnin’ the halls, so’s I thought maybe ya know who he is.”

(Slick? Tim arches a brow at that because really)

Alfred blatantly looks over, immediately getting back his usual calm, cool, and collected. “I do hope the scuffle I heard upstairs did not result in any bloodshed on the Turkish carpets, Master Tim.”

“I’m hurt at your complete lack of faith in my kick-ass skills, Alfred,” he waves a hand on his way to the sideboard where wonderful things (like coffee, please, please, please give him coffee to be able to deal with this and what he should very much not tell Jason) waited. He pauses to get his thoughts together, makes a mental Venn Diagram of the potential backlash of both scenarios, and adds cream with a little sugar so he doesn’t down the first mug liked boiling lava.

“I’m Tim Drake. Nice to meet you, by the way. It’s much nicer when we’re not trying to kill each other,” and yeah, that’s Alfred clearing his throat just a little. “I’m also a vigilante, so of course I’ve heard of Robin,” luckily, the way to trip up Jason’s radar is to tell the lie with just enough truth mixed in, “and I do work with Batman sometimes on out-of-town cases. I also do data collection and reconnaissance for the Titans, who I’m sure you’ve at least met at this juncture.” First few desperate sips accomplished, he moves to take a spot at the table and wait until Jason warily joins him, scrappy and scrawny, eyes that take in everything.

And he moves lighter on his feet, without a hell of a lot of burdens and probably a mass of missing scars from things like crowbars and insane psychopaths that deal in megalomaniacal delusions of grandeur. It’s a Jason Tim’s only known with a mask, and it’s a rough moment to stop himself from reaching out across the table to grip those twitchy fingers, but all he can do is swallow his heart back down in the vicinity of his chest, glance at Alfred with a little Batanese using just his eyebrows.

Without giving the his younger boyfriend an opportunity to ask, he cuts in with, “occasionally, B lets me stay over when a case gets...rough. It was last night anyway. I’m sorry I surprised you, but I’d been awake for about seventy-odd hours by then, so I was pretty compromised.”

Pretty much all true.

During the distraction, Alfred turns to busy himself at the sideboard. A glow in Tim’s peripheral is probably the butler texting the fam. B, Come downstairs immediately; Damian, please do not yet come downstairs. I shall bring breakfast up straight away. Dick, your presence would be appreciated at the Manor. It seems we have a situation. To make it a little more obvious he’s being serious, Alfred completely takes advantage of a displaced Jason, too busy staring Tim down from across the table, to snap a discreet picture to follow-up all those texts.

A fresh glass of juice and a side cup of coffee makes some of the tension ease from Jay’s shoulders, “sounds pretty stupid, you feel me? First rule of being a cape: take care a’ yerself. What we got against these crazy assholes? At the end of the day, it’s yer fists and yer brains, so ya gotta make sure ya got enough in ya ta take the beating.”

And it’s a fifteen-year-old Jason pointing a finger at him around his juice and all mock-serious, which it totally why he starts laughing without snorting coffee up his nose. Points for him.

“You are terrible at mocking B in lecture-mode. Terrible,” he shakes his head a little once he’s sure he isn’t going to choke, “more practice, okay? You’ll totally get there, but don’t think you’re ever beating out Dick. He is the official runner-up in the Best Dad Lecture category.”

A heartbeat and Jason starts to crack a grin, laughing out loud in that younger voice, the blue of his eyes without the Pit lingering, without the grim realizations of the day he’s going to die (again). He’s so heartbreakingly innocent of it all (and Tim just wonders how Bruce is going to take this because things like tears and BatDad are going to go down soon--he can feel it).

So by the time Alfred emerges from the kitchen with warm eggs and fluffy waffles, the tension has eased down between the former Robins by the way they throw stories back and forth.

“Yer kiddin’ me,” Jason deadpans back.

“All true, I swear. Freeze and Ivy watched him bust his bat ass--”

“Y’know, there was one time he fell through a crappy roof right inta a ladies’ shower, right?”

“I’m sorry what now?”

“That ain’t what she was thinking, Timmy. Just takin’ a shower and boom, there’s the Bat admiring the decor an’ shit.”

The mental image is enough to get him started all over again, laughing while huddled over his precious, beautiful coffee and lost staring at the fucking beautiful sight of his younger, unburdened significant other. Even better, more evidence in favor of the formulating plan clicks into place with Jason’s easy laugh and wild gestures. But it all comes down to basic facts: fifteen or twenty-five, this is the crazy idiot he loves. And if this is a golden opportunity to give the guy a second chance, one without the Joker and ticking bombs, without being buried alive, and thrown in the Lazarus Pit, it might well be worth the effort.

#based on fanart #love this panel #thank-you for letting me write something!#tim drake #jason todd #de-aged Jason!#someday I'll write more about Jason patrolling as Robin #you know B has BatDad feels #my fic #my writing

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