#Jason starts tagging the edges of Crime Alley

[joaniejustwokeup]

DP x DC Prompt:

Summoning circles are more complicated than people give them credit for. They’re a bit like a mix between a thumb print, a name, a phone number, and a recipe; and at the same time, nothing like any of those things.

In reality, most summoning circles in spell books and ancient texts are incomplete, representing only a fraction of a particular spirit’s identity.

A complete circle will actually be a series of different summoning circles, with each concentric ring representing an aspect of the spirit’s identity and having individual requirements and/or offerings needed. Ghosts have an innate awareness of them and are able to draw and describe their requirements from any sort of inward reflection.

Ghosts will often give out incomplete circles as a means of communication and transportation. A single ring of the circle will only open the door, and each ring added makes the pull and connection to the summoner stronger. Ghosts will also sometimes use incomplete circles to mark and monitor their haunts and as a way of claiming territory.

A complete summoning circle will occasionally but inevitably change over time, as parts of the spirit’s identity change.

The circle will always be a closely guarded secret. This is because, much like giving your true name to the fae, giving out your full summoning circle will allow the summoner to not only capture you, but to command and control you.

After Danny was shown Dan’s future where he killed the world, he made Jazz memorize his complete circle and told her to use it if he ever turned evil. She thought he was being ridiculous, but learned the spell when she saw how frightened he had become of himself.

When the summoning circle of the Ghost King was added to his identity, he tried to make her memorize the new circle, only for her to flat out refuse, saying it’s not healthy for him to make these kind of contingencies. They get into a really bad fight and Danny flies off determined to find someone he can trust with his circle should he turn evil.

As he’s flying over his town he feels the slight tug on his consciousness indicating someone is trying to summon the Ghost King. He lets his awareness bleed through the summoning just enough to see that… yup it’s cultists again. At least there’s no sacrifices this time.

He’s about to shrug the summoning off like he has so many others when he suddenly sees someone fighting through the cultists. Oh! Make that several someones.

With a giddy sort of eagerness Danny watches Batman and his sidekicks cut through the crowd of religious fanatics, even taking down a couple that looked like they were using ghost-based magic. He’d always admired the Dark Knight, but seeing him fight in person is something else.

It’s as the hero is tying up the cultists and checking their injuries that a lightbulb goes off in Danny’s head, and, after a moment of steeling his determination, he lets himself be pulled through the summoning circle.

The Bats all tense up as the circle at the center of the room grows brighter, readying themselves for another fight. Danny tries to smile reassuringly as he feels his form materialize, though they likely can’t see it in the bright flash of light that accompanies it.

He frowns when he realizes the summoning had dressed him in his royal armor and cloak, the crown of fire burning above his head and ring of rage glaring from his right hand.

He tries raising his hands in an “I am not a threat,” pose, before realizing it looks exactly like the Box Ghost’s “Beware!” pose. He tucks his hands under his armpits, then awkwardly waves at the group of vigilantes.

“Hi there! Wow that was really cool- Thanks for taking care of these guys for me.”

The vigilantes once again tense up as Danny steps out of the circle towards them. Danny smiles sheepishly.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I really need to talk to you, Batman.”

Batman steps forward, approaching Danny as he stands just outside the circle, a living shadow that looms larger than life. Still, Danny senses something soften in his gaze as he looks over the teenage Ghost King, stopping just out of reach of him. Danny gazes back at his childhood hero, hoping he’s making the right choice.

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

#Red hood doodling these intense circular designs in the corners of his favorite books not knowing what they mean #Dick: Oooooh what’s that little wing? it looks cool! Jason: (blushing but can’t figure out why) Nothing! Fuck off! #Jason’s subconscious: he called me cool! :) #Jason storming into the Batcave - ‘WHERE’S MY COPY OF PRIDE AND PREJUDICE- DEMON BRAT I KNOW YOU HAVE IT!!!!’ #Jason starts tagging the edges of Crime Alley #He’ll suddenly get on coms like ‘Get out of my territory Old Man!’ (How did he know we were here? He’s across town!) #dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #ghost king danny #summoning circles #summoning circle lore #danny phantom #batman #halfa jason todd #or at least some kind of undead #but I guess that’s only in the tags right now #my writing

[nabtime]

Our Empty Graves XI

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 11: we live, we die, the lifeless stars shining in the dark

Chapter Summary: Multiple conversations are had and Jason is overwhelmed in all of them.

Chapter Notes: Lifeless Stars by Palaye Royale Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 12 // Spotify

Jason blinked up at Fetch and his solemnly earnest expression and could not wrap his head around what the other was trying to tell him. Idly, he noticed that Fetcher got his hair cut. It looked nice, trimmed down to his shoulders and the burnt edges gone, but it still floated distractingly in the air around his head. It looked fluffy and Jason was extremely tempted to touch it.

But haircuts could only distract him for so long.

Fetcher died too… He died. But he was here. But he’d died before too. The kindest jellyfish he’d ever met had died. And it would explain the green, if Fetcher had been resurrected but Jason though he wasn’t associated with Ra’s but then what if he was. Because how else was the kid still here? So was he working for Ra’s or wasn’t he? Was it a completely unrelated instance of Lazarus Pit resurrection or something else entirely had brought him back? Was he actually a Pit Demon like Jason had accused? But. Everything felt jumbled in his mind. None of it made any sense. Maybe it was the weird feeling of having Fetcher’s hand comb through his chest still lingering and throwing his thoughts out of sort.

“What?” was about the only thing he could squeeze out of his ragged throat. He needed more information.

He watched as Fetcher fidgeted with his gloves for a time, picking at the fingers one by one before finally just taking them off. His hands were as white as his face but his nails were tinted green. It didn’t look like nail polish. Huh. They were also sharp. His hands were small but his fingers long, like you would expect to see on a pianist, elegantly proportioned. He watched Fetcher wring his gloves in thought before he looked up. He tilted his head in consideration before he mimed what looked like a fork? And then mimed shoving it forward- and then started fake convulsions.

Fucking seriously?!

“You-,” he had trouble gathering his will to address what he just saw. “Stuck a fork in a socket and electrocuted yourself?”

Fetcher then had the audacity to tilt his hand in a so-so motion and shrug. Like that explained a single goddamn thing. He wasn’t going to push it. He refused to touch any of whatever the hell that was. He would only come out of it more confused than he started. So, sure, Fetcher died by electrocuting himself like a dumb-ass but only sort of. Whatever.

He sighed, before asking the more relevant question, “How’d you come back?”

And Fetcher looked away, nervous. And Jason didn’t like that. Was it bad? Was it against his will? An experiment gone wrong? Had it been as horrific as Jason’s had been?

Fetcher shook his head.

“No?” he asked. Did he just not want to talk about it? Did he not know?

Fetcher’s shoulder’s sagged before he pulled them back and looked Jason in the eye. He pointed to himself. I. And then pulled a finger across his throat. Died.

“Yeah,” Jason said slowly, perplexed. “You died. You said that.”

Fetcher shook his head again, agitated, before he seemed to give up and put a hand through his own chest this time. Just as weird as the first time Jason saw him do it. Kid was a black hole in there, just a bunch of shit packed into his own intestines. Jason didn’t know how he did that and he didn’t want to know. It was also odd to see him root around in there when he now had first hand experience how it felt. 4/10 would not like to experience again. Four because it still wasn’t the least pleasant experience he had and while it was shocking it wasn’t painful. Felt like a fair rating all things considered.

He pulled out his trusty whiteboard and dry-erase marker and Jason was absolutely not prepared for what Fetcher wrote down when he flipped the board over for him to read.

I didn’t come back.

Oh god.

“What…” he trailed off and swallowed hard, trying to put his words together again. “Do you mean, Fetch?”

He gave Jason a small, sad smile before writing on his board again. He seemed to brace himself before flipping it over, expression wary when he did.

I’m a ghost.

A ghost. A spirit. Someone not quite there anymore. And he thought about the invisibility and the density-shifting and it made some modicum of sense, but at the same time it still didn’t make any sense at all. Fetcher was so alive. Jason could reach out and touch him. He smiled and laughed and bled. He couldn’t be…

“You called yourself a Fetch before,” he pointed out, still surrounded by more questions than answers.

The kid nodded and started writing again.

A Fetch is a type of ghost. I didn’t say so earlier because people don’t like ghosts.

He fidgeted after flipping the board over this time, jostling it so it was almost hard for Jason to read. But he managed. He didn’t like what was there.

“People… don’t like ghosts,” he said, trying to figure out who, exactly, had been so prejudice against a dead kid that he believed everyone hated ghosts. When a majority of the populace didn’t believe in them. At least he was pretty sure. He may have traveled in odd circles after coming back but he’s pretty sure he would have noticed if ghosts were suddenly a confirmed thing.

Fetcher nodded sadly, fiddling with the cap of his cheap little blue marker and avoiding eye contact.

“That’s stupid,” Jason blurted, watching the other blink in surprise and fumble with the marker- startled. “What the hell kind of discrimination is that? Ghoulphobia?”

And he watched as a smile tugged at the edges of Fetcher’s mouth, reluctant but growing. He ducked his head behind his whiteboard before angling it to write and still hide his face. Jason could tell he was still smiling, though, which is what mattered.

Ghoulphobia is a very serious problem and impacts Spirits and Undead-aligned people of all kinds. Including you.

“I’m sure,” Jason drawled, willing to let a little amusement bleed through, if only for a moment. “Speaking of spirits and the undead-aligned,” Jason began, not liking how Fetcher had counted him in that description, “what, precisely, do you mean by including me?”

Fetcher blinked. Tilted his head. He leaned on arm over the board and gestured toward Jason. You. And then he slid his finger across his throat and boy was Jason getting tired of that. Died. And then he flipped a palm up in a motion as if to say, ‘isn’t that obvious?’

“Yeah, I know I died,” Jason retorted, “but I came back. Living,” he emphasized. “Not a zombie. Got a pulse and everything.”

F etcher tilted his head back, eyes closing, looking like he was trying to gather strength. Yeah, Jason felt around the same about all this. He didn’t like this conversation and yet, here they were, having it anyway. God, he’d just gotten blown up by a clown for the second time, could he have no rest? Could he not just live out the rest of his life/unlife blissfully unaware of the intricacies of how he came back and what he qualified as now if it was anything but human.

The other shook himself a bit before bringing a reluctant marker down on whiteboard again.

Not all the way. Not correctly. Something's off- I checked.

Jason blue-screened a bit, the inside of his mind becom ing a window’s screen saver. One life-altering revelation after another here, just sucker punch after sucker punch when he was already down with a bruised jaw. He came back wrong. He’d fucked up coming back to life somehow. He wasn’t even aware that was something you could really fuck up. Should be a zero-sum game- you’re either dead or alive. But no, apparently there were more in-betweens than he’d realized. Fuck.

“You checked?” he decided to ask instead of thinking about literally anything else about this situation.

Fetcher mimed shoving his hand down and ah, yes, the hand-in-Jason’s-chest-and-rooting-around-thing he’d done earlier that Jason had decidedly not liked. Fantastic.

“Care to elaborate,” Jason said through gritted teeth. He died, big whoop. All that mattered was that he was back. That he was alive now. That he had a chance to seek vengeance, to get answers. To right the Batman’s wrongs. Even if he only had a limited time to do it. But he needed to know how much. If something went wrong with his resurrection did that mean he could die again at any moment?

Fetcher’s face twisted in uncertainty and he gave a sort of half-shrug before writing again and turning the board.

I’m not an expert. All I can really tell is that something is wrong. You have ectoplasm like ghosts do, but not a lot. And it’s like poison . I couldn’t tell you what it’s doing to you, though.

“Ectoplasm is real?” he questioned, thinking about the Ghostbuster’s movies, and deciding to not touch any of the other things Fetcher mentioned. Poisoned… He’d experienced the Pit Rage briefly when he’d come out of the Lazarus Waters but it had faded. At least he thought it had. He was a bit angrier than he had been before but he had a lot to be pissed about. “Wait, wait, do you know about the Lazarus Pits and would they have anything to do with it?”

Fetcher tilted his head in thought, pale green eyes flicking up to the side. His eyelashes were white and long and pretty, Jason noted while waiting for an answer.

Fetcher shook his head and took to writing, starting and stopping and erasing before writing again. He flipped the board over with a shrug, like he wasn’t sure about his answer.

Ectoplasm is all around, the ambient kind at least. The residue of Death. It comes in multiple forms and uses and its usually not visible to humans. You’ve seen it before because it’s in my blood. Organic Ectoplasm. Whatever a Lazarus Pit is might be ectoplasm, might not be. What you have in your system almost feels like Combative Ectoplasm. Like a bullet wound with the bullet still inside?

Jason blinked, “Like shrapnel?”

Fetcher nodded.

Jason fell back against his pillow, staring up at the ceiling and trying to absorb everything he’d learned so far. Fetcher died from electrocution that may or may not have been self-inflicted. Fetcher was a ghost. Fetch was a type of ghost, but he didn’t know what that specifically meant and he was pretty sure that Fetcher didn’t want to tell him. Fetcher’s blood had ectoplasm and was likely why it was bright neon green. Jason had ectoplasm in him and it may or may not have anything to do with the Lazarus Pits and it apparently felt like poison. Jason had not come back all the way like he’d first assumed. He sighed, deeply. What a fucking day already.

“Do I even want to know the difference between ambient, organic, and combative ectoplasm?”

The other sighed before scrunching his nose with displeasure and reluctantly erasing and writing on the board again. He seemed frustrated with every letter, like he wasn’t happy with whatever explanation he was trying to write. Great. Jason’s source of info wasn’t anything like an expert and he had no other way to find one. He was fucked.

Ambient ecto is the stuff that’s just everywhere. Like soup. Organic is the stuff that makes up ghosts themselves. Like blood and organs. Combative ecto is what it says on the tin. Used to fight. Regenerative ecto is used to heal.

Like soup? Like soup?! Jason just might kill the kid a second time if this kept up. That was a whole other forth category of ectoplasm on there too! And why was there a whole separate type of ectoplasm for fighting? Why was ambient ectoplasm just everywhere? Like? Soup? What made the types different? He still didn’t even know what ectoplasm was, aside from the ever helpful explanation that it was ‘death residue’.

“You’re killing me, jellyfish,” he groaned.

And then Fetcher was leaning over him, where he’d fallen back onto the bed in dismay, a soft look in his eyes and an excited little smile on his face that made him radiant.

“What,” Jason said flatly. What had he done to warrant that kind of expression? He didn’t deserve a look so gentle.

Fetcher pointed at him. You. He made a gesture with his hand starting from his open mouth waving outward. Called. He pointed back to himself. Me. He held one hand up, cupped slightly over the top of the other which he wiggled the fingers of- like tentacles. Jellyfish.

“Yeah?” he replied, not understanding why that would make Fetcher look so damn happy. It was just a nickname, a stupid one at that. He used them all the time, what made this time so different?

Fetcher rolled his eyes before pulling out the board again with a sigh.

You haven’t used any nicknames since the dojo fight. I missed them.

“Oh,” he said, a little choked. Fuck, what a punch to the gut. A fantastic reminder that he’d so thoroughly messed up when he lashed out at Fetcher in the dojo, let his anger take hold and jumped to conclusions. And that he still hadn’t apologized. He was a fucking mess and he didn’t deserve to have such a sweet guy around. But, for some godforsaken reason, the guy wanted to be around him. Looks like he’d just have to get over himself about it.

“Sorry,” he said, voice a little strangled. What he meant by that apology he didn’t quite know. Sorry for not using the nicknames again earlier? Sorry for not knowing that he missed them? Sorry for the hurt he’d caused with the fight itself? All of it and more?

And then Fetcher’s smile stretched wider- and on some level it hurt to look at. He didn’t deserve to see such happiness on the other’s face, not when he’d been the one to inflict so much pain. He wasn’t about to be more of an ass and fuck off about it though. That would just punish Fetcher- and he’d done enough already.

The ghost touched a hand to his chin and brought it forward, eyes warm and happy. Thank you.

“I-,” Jason said, pursing his lips, conflicted. “Don’t- don’t thank me for that. It’s not enough.”

At this the other looked perplexed, tilting his head again before picking his board back up, tapping his marker against the edge before writing.

Why? You thought I was there to betray you. You said mean things, but it wasn’t anything I haven’t heard before. Or anything that isn’t true.

And that just broke his fucking heart.

He wanted to beg and plead and make the other understand that he wasn’t a monster, wasn’t a demon, or an experiment gone wrong. He wanted to tell Fetcher that he was an angel. A precious soul. He wanted to tell him that Jason was the monster, not him. That he was so, so sorry for making him think anything else. But he knew, from experience, that words like ‘evil’ and ‘wrong’ were hard ones to shake. He’d been called all that and worse since he came back, vindictive and violent for all the things that happened to him.

Once upon a time he’d been a Robin, a spark of light and joy in the dark streets of Gotham, but those days were long behind him. He’d been afraid since his resurrection that death had changed him, irrevocably, and maybe for the worse. This new knowledge that he hadn’t come back all the way just confirmed it. Jason had come out of the other side filled with cold fury, a demon hellbent on vengeance, and he knew it. Fetcher came out of the other side an angel, a sweet soul, convinced he was a demon when he wasn’t.

He’d have to prove it. Little by little. That despite being a ghost, despite no longer being human, Fetcher was still good. That being a monster didn’t make him bad. (And maybe, maybe there was a part of himself that wanted to prove he wasn’t bad either. That while he was a monster too- he could be good again.)

“Jellyfish,” he said seriously, using the nickname with purpose, “I jumped to conclusions when I shouldn’t have. I-when your eyes went green- I just-”

And he wanted to run his hands through his hair in frustration, none of his words coming out the way he wanted. He wanted to explain himself to Fetcher, wanted to let the other know why he’d acted that way. But he couldn’t seem to wrangle them, couldn’t seem to work through the heavy knot his thoughts around it all had become. It required thinking about how he’d come back. Thinking about what had happened immediately after. Explaining all the things he’d seen and felt and had to endure at Ra’s hand. And he couldn’t.

He wanted to reach out to Fetcher, reassure him with a gentle hand that he hadn’t meant any of it. Run his fingers through that soft, cloud-like hair. Cradle his face within his palms to show him that he was unafraid to touch a so-called monster. Anything, anything to be able to convey what he meant without having to say the words. But his hands sat useless by his side, wrapped to all hell from how much Joker had broken them. His own stupidity, his own vindictiveness, had landed him here.

But Fetcher simply smiled, small and sad, and shook his head. It’s okay, he seemed to say, you don’t have to explain.

And it frustrated him because he wanted to explain. Wanted to tell Fetcher everything. He frowned and decided that while he couldn’t go in depth, couldn’t fully talk about it, he’d at least give the other something.

“I was brought back,” he began, stolidly looking up at the ceiling, “by the League of Assassins. An association that’s just like it sounds and is led by an immortal man named Ra’s Al Ghul.”

He pursed his lips, skipping over quite a bit of detail to talk about what felt more relevant. “Ra’s has a- thing is really the best word for it, even when it isn’t at all actually? I don’t know. Anyway, he has a thing against- uh- my former mentor, I guess. And he brought me back to use as a weapon against him.”

He felt a chilled hand (and he supposed being a ghost would explain why Fetch was always so cold) rest against his forearm, not demanding or cajoling, just there in support. He wanted so badly to hold it.

“What he uses to keep himself immortal and what brought me back is called a Lazarus Pit. It’s- incredibly toxic and-,” he swallowed heavily, trying to come up with any way in which to describe the Pits, “green. Very green.”

A look of understanding washed across Fetcher’s face and his hand squeezed Jason’s forearm a bit in reassurance. It burned where he touched, where he was unused to gentle contact, and he wanted more. He wanted to reach out and do the same, to touch, to reassure. To goddamn feel something under his fingertips. But his hands were beaten, bruised, and broken. He was broken. Fundamentally, broken.

“I should have never-,” he tried to say, his words growing thick and hard to speak again, “never taken it out on you. Just because I died- just because I… was afraid. And-”

The hand that was on his arm moved, another hand joining it as they both cupped his face. Still so achingly gentle. Fetcher moved closer, knocking their foreheads together and keeping his stare steady with Jason’s. He wanted to flinch away, wanted to look anywhere but into those soft green eyes- light and beautiful like peridot- because he was so scared at what he would find there. Judgment. Anger. Fear. But there was nothing but a calm reassurance within them, nothing but a certainty Jason didn’t think he deserved.

And then those eyes slipped closed, long white eyelashes brushing pale white cheeks and Fetcher purred.

“Holy shit,” he gasped as it felt like he was being surrounded by the deep, thrumming purr. It was comforting in a way he couldn’t express, in a way he’d never felt before.

It felt like the first time he’d been wrapped protectively under Batman’s cape. Like the first time Alfred had given him hot chocolate with marshmallows after a rough night. Like the first time Dick had even acknowledged him as Robin. Like the first time Bruce had hugged him. Like the first time Alfred had told him how proud he was of him. Like those rare soft nights with his mother, where she had held him and rocked him once upon a time, before everything had gone so bad.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to bask in the sound and never listen to anything else.

A deep rumble started in his chest that made both of them startle back. Beetlejuice junior blinked, rapidly, before grinning and leaning forward again, purring back. It felt like a weird feedback loop where mister King Boo’s purr caused his own to start back up and then the other would purr harder and he didn’t really know what the fuck was happening here.

“I can purr,” he said, voice flat while trying to work out how, exactly, he felt about that (not all that bad apparently, because his own purr didn’t stop). He looked back to the little guy, who was grinning wide- pleased with himself, and said, “You can purr.”

Ghost of Smugness Present nodded, happy as anything, purr growing louder and glow, somehow, getting brighter.

“How the fuck,” he asked, without really asking, the rumble in his chest making his voice stutter just a bit. Fantastic.

And Casper, the all too-self-satisfied ghost, just shrugged. Great.

So- just a checklist of things he’d woken up to so far: Fetcher himself and all the emotional turmoil just seeing him caused, pain like no other from almost dying by the hands of the Joker again, finding out that Fetcher had died and hadn’t come back, finding out that he hadn’t come back- not correctly at least, fumbling an emotionally stunted apology, and finally- mutual purring.

This was too much. He wanted to go back to sleep right now please and thank you.

“You’re awake,” came a stern voice from the doorway and it made Jason knock back into the bed with a groan. The purring from both of them had stopped the moment she spoke.

“Dr. Thompkins,” he greeted, hoping against hope that she would just knock him back into unconsciousness so he wouldn’t have to deal with the world anymore. “Lovely as ever.”

“Red Hood,” she said curtly as she made her way into the small room and began a cursory exam. When she held a stethoscope to his chest he breathed in deeply without needing to be told. He wondered how bad his lungs sounded after all the smoke inhalation. He recognized the steps to check for a concussion next, checking his reflexes and pupil dilation and what felt like a dozen other things. She was methodical and stoic as she worked, not saying a word except to direct him for the next test.

“You know,” she started, finally breaking the silence and placing the stethoscope back around her neck, “for some reason, I expected to recognize you without the helmet.”

And it was only in that moment that he remembered he didn’t even have his domino on. Bare-faced to the world. In the room with someone who’d treated his wounds plenty of times when he was younger. The only thing keeping his identity hidden was his presumed death and puberty. Leslie had narrowed her eyes, gaze roaming over his sloppy black hair and blue eyes and no doubt wondering if he was somehow related to Bruce.

“Is it because I’m prettier than you expected?” he asked, deflecting, and batted his eyelashes up at her, hoping to get her to stop looking so closely.

“Hardly,” she drawled back, tone dry.

He could sense more than hear the little slimer gijinka laughing at him from his corner. Rude.

“In any case,” Leslie said, “I don’t know what you did to yourself this time, the unknown poison almost taking you out was bad enough, but this is going to keep you down for longer than you’d probably like.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh, “I figured as much.” He opened his eyes and told Leslie, sincerely, “Sorry for all the trouble, doc. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

She crossed her arms across her chest, white coat swaying with the motion, and made sure she had his full attention. “You’re going to need help. Whether you like it or not, your hands are the worst off and your other injuries mean you can’t exert yourself. If you try to recover on your own then you’re just going to end up back in my clinic with an infection or head injury because you fell trying to do too much all at once.”

“But-”

“No. I know your type. Secretive. Headstrong. Paranoid. I don’t care. My job is to make sure I don’t have to see you again unless its a check-up.”

He sighed again, something he felt like he was doing a lot lately. “Fine. I’ll find help.”

She nodded shortly. “Now, are you alright with your friend over there listening in or would you rather he step outside while I give you a run down of what to expect?”

Jason gave little banquo a considering look. Did he want Fetcher in the room to hear all the gritty details? He wasn’t exactly shy about his injuries and Fetcher had already seen and treated them on the scene anyway. He didn’t really care if the other heard or not. He watched as Fetcher twisted in his seat, nervous hands fluttering in his lap as he waited for Jason to make his decision. What cinched it wasn’t asking himself if he cared about the other hearing it all, but more about asking himself if he wanted Fetcher to leave. And, really, the answer was no. He didn’t want to make jellyfish leave.

“He can stay,” he finally answered, watching with a small smile as Fetcher seemed to slump in his chair a bit. He wasn’t the only one that didn’t want the other to leave then.

Leslie just nodded and settled down on a stool on the other side of the bed Jason was resting on. She swiveled it and pulled a file from the pocket of her coat, opening it and giving Jason a stern glare with each diagnosis she listed off.

“Fracture to the jaw on the right side, bruised ribs, smoke inhalation damage, lacerations everywhere, and a wound to the back of the head that I’m seriously surprised hasn’t shown signs of having caused a concussion. I’d say you were damn lucky if it weren’t for the mess your hands are in.”

“That bad?” he croaked, voice cracking as he asked. They hurt. They hurt like a bitch, and he was honestly afraid to find out the extent of the damage. He knew the Joker had done a number on them, but he’d be fine. He’d always been fine before, injuries always temporary- until they weren’t.

“Hood,” she said, lips pursed, “you’re lucky you still have them.”

He grimaced and closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the words. Not wanting to face that reality.

“I did what I could,” Leslie continued, “but I’m not a miracle worker. I can preform general surgery, but to properly reconstruct your hands would take an expert. And a miracle.”

She sighed and snapped the file closed and placed it on his lap. “The details are all in there, but you really need to get them checked out by an ortho specialist, a plastic surgeon, any team more equipped to deal-”

“No,” he said lowly, still refusing to look at the rest of the world around him. “I can’t go to anyone legit.”

“You could lose them, if you don’t,” the doctor snapped.

He said nothing, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it.

The stool creaked as Leslie stood and made her way towards the door. “Whatever you decide, you’re going to need help. Your hands, if you want to give them any chance of healing correctly, need to rest.”

“Red Hood,” she said, tone serious and heavy. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and met her piercing stare. “You are going to have to trust whoever helps you with a lot. It will be embarrassing and invasive and make you feel incredibly vulnerable.”

She pointed a stern finger back at him, “Don’t chance losing your hands just because you don’t like it,” and then left.

Just- yet another bomb to drop on top of everything else so far. Had he even been awake an hour yet? How long had he been out? Was it still the same day? The same twenty-four hour period? Because if it was, Jason would like to classify all of this as one of the worst days of his life. Afterlife. Whatever. Top five. Not the absolute worst but definitely fucking up there.

He felt the tap of a cold finger against his shoulder and turned to face Fetcher, who was holding up his whiteboard and looking at him imploringly.

Will you let me help you?

And damn was spooks way too good at puppy-dog eyes. He’d ask the guy to put his gear back on to spare him the power of them, if he didn’t know that the suggestion would probably backfire spectacularly.

They were probably rushing this again. This trust thing. There were still so many secrets between the two of them, even if there were less now. Something was bound to give between them. Nothing good ever lasted in his life and Fetcher was just another person that would leave him eventually. He couldn’t die like his first mom had, so it’d probably be something worse. Jason would do something stupid and drive him away again, hurt him, make him leave.

But he’d take all the time he could get for now. He was a bit of a selfish bastard sometimes.

A quirked a small smile and said, “Sure, bedsheet boy.”

And he reveled in the sputtering look of offense that crossed Fetcher’s face. And he laughed when the other threw his marker at him, even though it hurt.

═════ ◈ ═════

“You got footage of him,” Tim stated as he stared up at the grainy image of the so-called Fetcher standing in front of the flames of the latest dock explosion.

“Mn,” Bruce replied, hands on the keys of the Bat-computer as he tried to enhance the image.

Tim squinted as the details only became more pixelated the further Bruce tried to zoom in. No amount of cleaning would render that image viable, but he left that opinion to himself. There was something he was able to notice, though.

“They really do look similar,” he muttered to himself, bringing up the image of the Doctors Fenton- that he’d yet to show Bruce- on his tablet.

Bruce stopped his work and turned to Tim without a word, demanding an explanation without actually demanding it. It was something that still put Tim on edge sometimes, but he’d convinced himself he was used to it. Tim handed the tablet over.

“It’s the best lead on Fetcher we have,” Tim rushed to explain. “The Hazmat suit he wears is customized and entirely similar to the ones worn and patented by the Fentons.”

He waited and watched as Bruce thumbed through what meager files he’d managed to scrounge up about the doctors; what they studied, where they’d studied, all their patents, their family history, the sketchy government agency they’d signed contracts with- everything he could scrape together. There were plenty of holes, strike-outs of huge swathes of information that he contributed to said government agency. Which was strange because Tim was usually so good at breaking into government severs and databases and really anything else he liked- but the GIW (a name he could not find the meaning of the acronym for) had protections like no other. What little he could find only mentioned warnings about keeping to paper and to watch out for someone called Technus.

“Ectoplasm,” Bruce stated, voice just as flat as usual. Tim winced.

“Yeah, I’m not too sure about that either,” he admitted. “But we’ve dealt with weirder things.”

“Mn,” Bruce said, tone suggesting he agreed. Then he turned and pulled all of Tim’s files onto the big screen, pulling the photos over to more directly compare. He sat down in the chair in front of the computer and focused his full attention on the task at hand.

Tim knew a dismissal when he saw one and decided to leave Bruce to his musings, figuring he could bribe Alfred into a late night cup of coffee. He felt disappointed in what little information he’d been able to offer Bruce, he needed to search more. Find more. Dig deeper. He could prove himself. He would do it. He’d help.

As he was making his way back to the manor he could swear he heard Bruce speaking to himself.

“So I really am being haunted.”

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

[elementalwriter67]

The Void Chapter Twelve

Word Count: 4079

Pairing: (Eventual) Jason Todd x Reader

Tag List: @wittedhat, @clea-nightingale, @undertheredhood, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @grey-water-colors, @jasonlovertodd, @ximaginx, @lexythedepressy, @e-bendy

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7a, 7b, 8, 9, 10, 11

Summary:  The Void is a hellish place filled with screams that echoed throughout the place at all the hours of the night, and where pain is a very close friend. You’ve spent your entire life in the Void, having been there since you were ten and you’ve just recently gotten a new cellmate… Who’s a little more hopeful than you are that either of you are going to make it out of this place alive. Though you have to admit that maybe his hope is rubbing off on you because you slowly find yourself hoping that the two of you do get out of here.

“Maria! Samantha! Oh it’s been too long since I’ve seen the two of you! How have you two been?” Selina exclaimed as she stood up from her seat in the outdoor cafe a large smile on her face as she made her way over to Barbara and Kate as they walked up to her. 

“I’ve been good, how’s the family? How’s dad?” Barbara asked as she hugged Selina. As the two of them hugged, Selina scanned the crowd behind the both of them before letting go of her and moving towards Kate and pulling her into a hug as well. When Selina was certain that there was nothing behind the two of them she pulled away from Kate and held on to her shoulders smiling widely at her. Nodding her head just slightly Selina let go of Kate and moved back to her seat. 

“Oh the family’s doing well, we had a little scare with grandpa last week while he was at the grocery store but that turned out to be a false alarm but it put your father more on edge than he already has been with your grandfather’s health but what can you do?” Selina said with a shrug of her shoulders as she sat back down in her chair crossing one leg over the other as she picked up her cup of coffee from the table. 

“Have you-” Kate cut herself off as she looked towards the waitress who was walking towards them with a smile on her face. 

“Hi, I’m Cathy. I'll be your server for the evening. Is there anything I can get the two of you?” Cathy asked as Barbara and Kate sat down. Kate and Barbara shared a look before Barbara grabbed the menu and quickly scanned it as Kate looked back at Cathy. 

“I’ll take a black coffee, with no sugar please.” Kate said and Cathy nodded as she jotted down her order before looking up at Barbara. 

“Aaaaannnnndddd I’ll have a chamomile tea with a chocolate scone please.” Barbara told her as she returned the menu to its spot in the middle of the table, flashing Cathy a quick smile. 

“Alright, I’ll get that stuff right out for you.” Cathy stated as she tucked her order pad into her apron and walked away. Kate waited until she was sure that Cathy was out of ear shot before focusing on Selina again.

“Have you guys heard anything from J since he went on that road trip of his?” Kate asked and Selina shook her head a worried expression flashing across her face before it was replaced with an easy relaxed look. 

“No we haven’t heard anything from him since his last phone call home over two weeks ago. You’re brothers and father are worried but I’m sure he’s doing fine. He's just too busy having fun to worry about contacting us.” Selina told them and the two of them nodded worried looks crossing their faces for a second before they forced smiles on to their faces. Barbara opened her mouth to ask Selina another question but before she could she caught Cathy walking out from the Cafe and over to them. 

“Here you go one chamomile tea with a chocolate scone and a black coffee.” Cathy said as she set down Barbara and Kate’s orders in front of them sending them a small smile. 

“Is there anything else I can get the two of you?” She asked as she looked between Barbara and Kate who both shook their heads. 

“No thanks we’re all set.” Barbara said and Cathy nodded before turning and walking away from the table. 

“So how’s the business going? Have Dad and Tim made any headway on their new project?” Barbara asked and Selina nodded her head around a sip of her coffee. 

“Surprisingly they’ve made quite a bit of headway. As the two of you know Tim was able to find a location for that new building of theirs but he’s also managed to draw up the blueprints of it as well. They’ve even got Roy in to help them on their project and he’s done some research on the area and apparently it used to belong to the government. So how have your new jobs been going?” Selina asked as she set her cup of coffee down on the table and leaned back in her chair watching the two of them. 

“The new job in the morgue has been going well. It's a lot calmer than the GCPD morgue which is honestly nice but if anything it’s weirder than the GCPD morgue.” Barbara told her at which Selina raised her eyebrow at her.

“What do you mean?” 

“Well for starters for a hospital we get more Jane and John Does than I ever got at the morgue and when I asked my boss about it he said that it was a normal occurrence because they have a lot of homeless people who get brought in an alot of the time they don’t give us their names. Then there are the bodies that don’t match up with their actual medical records and every time I ask about it my boss tells me not to worry about it because that’s an upstairs thing.” Barbara explained and Kate nodded her head as she looked over at her. 

“Yeah the same shit happens upstairs with the emergency room people get brought in their records don’t match anything about them and the other nurses disappear for large periods of time randomly throughout the day and if I ask where they went I’m told they go on lunch or they had to go home, and then minutes later there they are working again when they should have gone home. It’s just all so weird and if the pay wasn’t so good I don’t think I would even bother staying.” Kate explained before taking a large sip of her coffee with a disgruntled look on her face. Selina frowned as she looked between the two of them concerning marking the lines of her face as she did so. 

“The nurses there aren’t exactly the most friendly of people to the new guys, at least they're not to me anyways.” Kate added on when she set down her drink. Selina’s face turned sympathetic as she reached out a hand and gave Kate an affectionate squeeze as she did so. 

“I’m sorry Samantha but you know if you ever get tired of working in the emergency room there’s always room in your father’s company for you he could use someone like you when it comes to the advancement of modern medicine, he could use both of you.” Selina told them as she looked over at Barbara giving her a pointed look that she returned with a smile. Giving Kate’s hand one more affectionate squeeze she let go and sat back in her seat. 

Clenching her hand Kate smiled at Selina before she moved her hand off the table and set it in her lap, looking over at Babs out of the corner of her eyes and giving her a small nod. Focusing on Selina again as she sighed and stood up from the table. 

“As fun as this has been Emilia I’m afraid that I at the very least have to get going, my shift at the hospital starts in a couple of hours and I gotta go get ready.” Kate said as she grabbed her purse slinging it over her shoulder as she gave Barbara and Selina a sad look. 

“Alright well, have a good day at work, it was nice seeing you again.” Selina said as she stood up from the table and gave Kate another hug. 

“It was nice seeing you again too. Maria I’ll see you back at the apartment yeah?” Kate said as she pulled away from Selina and looked towards Barbara who nodded her head. 

“Have fun at work.” Barbara said, waving bye to Kate as she did and Kate flashed her a smile before turning and walking away from.

~Back at the Hospital~

Kate smiled as she walked into the hospital a few hours later her work bag slung over her shoulder and her strides purposeful as she walked through the doors of the emergency room. 

“Hey Samantha.” The nurse at the front desk said when she caught sight of Kate. 

“Hey Kim.” Kate offered back as she forced a small friendly smile on to her face and gave a small wave as acknowledgement before scanning her badge and walking through the doors and into the actual ER. 

Casting a quick glance around the locker room as she entered it Kate sighed in relief when she noticed that it was surprisingly empty. Shoving her things into the locker Kate slipped the device that Selina had given her into the pocket of her scrubs before closing her locker and throwing her hair up into a ponytail as she walked out of the locker room. Walking up to the main desk in the ER Kate shoved her hands into her pockets, her fingers brushing against the device as she leaned over the counter. 

“So, what’s on the menu for today Sarah?” Kate asked as her eyes skimmed over the contents on the front desk and then the people rushing around the ER. Besides her Sarah sighed as she rolled back in her seat towards the filing cabinet grabbing a file off the top she rolled back towards the desk and flipped it open. 

“Looks like today is shaping up to be one of the slower days in Gotham so there’s not much to do today other than the usual.” Sarah said as she started typing on the computer while glancing at the file every now and again. Sighing Kate pushed herself off the counter and pulled her hands from her pockets. 

“Alright, where am I starting first?” Kate asked and Sarah looked up at her for a brief second before rolling away from the desk again, grabbing a blue folder off of a pile she rolled back over to Kate handing it to her. 

“Carla Francheska came in this morning victim of a drive by in Crime Alley she’s in critical condition, Dr. Roberts wants you to check on her and make sure she’s still stable. Once that’s done you need to go change 209’s catheter and 210’s bedpan, after that the medical waste needs to be taken out, and the surgery rooms need restocking.” Sarah ordered as Kate took Carla’s file from her. Mentally Kate sighed as she looked over the file, getting the gist of Carla’s situation. 

“Alright, I’ll get started on that.” Kate said as she wandered away from the desk. She needed to do the things that Sarah had listed off first. Flipping the file closed Kate sighed as she closed her eyes for a few brief moments before opening them again and continuing towards Carla’s room. It was going to take longer to do her part of the mission than she originally thought.

Kate huffed out a relieved sigh as she fell back against the wall resisting the temptation to slowly slide down the wall, she had finally finished restocking the operation rooms and even helping out in a couple of the surgeries themselves when no one else could. Reaching up she wiped the sweat from her brow before letting her shoulders slump. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat that Kate even bothered moving and even then it was only to look towards the person who had cleared their throat to see Dr. Jekyll standing a few feet away from her holding a couple of files in his hands. Pushing herself off the wall she straightened out her scrubs as she forced a smile on to her face. 

“Hello Dr. Jekyll I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.” Kate said and he nodded his head, offering her what he probably assumed was a small friendly smile but only served to look slightly pissed. 

“No need to worry my dear, I just wanted to congratulate you on your splendid performance in the operating room today. I've never seen a new nurse handle a situation like what we found ourselves in as well as you did.” He told her, his tone sounding genuinely sincere as he looked at her. Kate’s smile turned genuine for the first time since she had started her undercover work here, and she stood up a little straighter as she smiled at him. 

“Oh, thank you sir, you have no idea how much that means to me.” Kate said and Dr. Jekyll nodded his head. 

“Of course, now I need you to take these files to Dr. Roberts office for me please, I need him to sign off on these files and then I need a second opinion on the top file.” Dr. Jekyll said as he held out the files in his hand for her to take. Internally Kate smiled widely to herself as she took the files from Dr. Jekyll with a smile on her face. 

“Yeah, sure, no problem Dr. Jekyll I’ll get right on that.” She said and he nodded his head.

“Good, once you're done why don’t you go on lunch, you look like you’ve been going since you started.” He mentioned and she nodded her head, widening her eyes just a little to emphasize her point. 

“That’s because I have been a doctor, anyways I’ll get right on this for you.” Kate said and Dr. Jekyll nodded before walking away. She waited until he had rounded the corner before letting a large smile spread across her face and turning and walking in the opposite direction. She loved when things magically worked out for her especially when an excuse is handed directly to her. 

Walking over to Dr. Roberts office Kate hugged the files to her chest and weaved her way in and out of the people that she passed. She stopped in front of Dr. Roberts office hesitating for a few seconds before knocking on his door and pressing her ear against it listening. She knocked again when she didn’t hear anything the first time and when she still didn’t hear anything the second time she tested the handle to find that it wasn’t locked. Pushing the door open she stepped into the office and stood in the doorway for a few seconds, her eyes glancing around the room searching for a hidden camera. When she was satisfied that there weren’t any cameras in the office she walked in, softly kicking the door closed behind her before walking up to his desk. Setting the files down on Dr. Roberts desk Kate pulled the two listening devices out of her pocket and slowly looked around the room again looking for a good place to put the devices. After a few seconds of looking she made her way over to the book shelf that was pressed along the wall next to the desk popping up onto the tip of her toes she pressed one of the devices into the little out cropping where the walls of it met the top of the bookcase. Stepping back she peered up at the top of the book case making sure that it wasn’t noticeable without feeling around before walking back over to his desk. Grabbing one of the files off the desk she dropped it on the floor before crouching down and pressing the second device on to the wires running out of the computer.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” A voice sounded from behind her suddenly causing Kate to jump, bashing the back of her head into the underside of the desk in the process. 

“Fuck.” Kate cursed as she crawled out from underneath the desk, grabbing one of the papers that had fallen out of the file as she went. Sitting back on her knees she looked up at Marge who was standing over her with her arms crossed over her chest and a glare that would stop most people in their tracks. 

“Oh, hey Marge.” Kate gave her a small wave before turning back to grabbing the papers that had fallen out of the file, and shoving them back into the file. 

“I repeat what the hell are you doing in her Smith?” Marge bit out her stance widening and Kate swallowed, pretending to be nervous as she looked up at her again. She had always been told to avoid Marge as much as possible and to never piss her off, and well she was finally learning as to why she had to avoid the head nurse as much as possible. 

“Ah, Dr. Jekyll asked me to bring these files to Dr. Roberts because he needs a few of them signed off and a consultation on another one but he wasn’t here so I decided that I would just put them on his desk but one of them fell off and everything spilled out so I’m cleaning it up.” Kate said as she motioned to the files on the desk and then to the mess on the floor that was only half cleaned up. Marge was silent for a moment as she looked at Kate watching her for any sign of a lie when she didn’t find any she nodded her head once. 

“Right, well hurry up and pick all that stuff up, I need you back in the ER as quickly as possible.” She ordered and Kate nodded hurrying to shove the papers back in the folder all while Marge watched over her. Standing up she set the folder down on the desk again and rushed out of the room, and Marge just stood there watching as Kate hurried out of the room. Once Kate had left she cast a quick glance around the room before nodding once to herself when she didn’t see anything out of place and leaving Dr. Roberts office. 

~The Void~

Your lungs burned and your feet ached with the force that they were slapping against the ground as you pushed yourself to run faster, harder, anything to get away from the things chasing you. Whipping yourself around a corner you slammed into the wall, a grunt escaping you as you barely managed to catch yourself to stop yourself from falling, pushing yourself off the wall you took off running again. Glancing over your shoulder again you watched as the darkness advanced on you the sound of growling and screeching coming from the darkness as clawed hands reached out dragging the darkness forward after you. Looking back forward you raced around another corner stumbling slightly as you tripped over your own feet. Before you could really pick up the speed again you felt a hand wrap around your ankle, sharp claws digging into your skin there and the next thing that you knew you were on the ground again. 

“No! No! Let go of me! Let go!” You screeched as you kicked at the darkness with your other foot. Clawing at the ground you tried to drag yourself away from the darkness as it dragged you backwards the sounds of growling and screeching growing louder as the sound of tearing flesh reached your ears as well. 

“No! Let go! Let go!” You screamed as you felt more hands grab you pulling and tugging at you as you were flipped over onto your back the hands gripping at your clothes and shoulders as the darkness started to swallow up your legs. Shaking your head you twisted and turned, bucking and pulling against the hands dragging you forward. Just as the darkness had reached your knees the lights in the hallway suddenly brightened to the point of blinding but just as suddenly as it had come it was gone. 

Blinking several times you brought your hands up to shield your eyes from the blinding light. It took several minutes for the light to finally subside just enough to for you to see that you where standing in one of the torture rooms only you wheren’t on the rack this time.

“Wh… What’s going on?” You muttered as you lowered your hands, squinting into the lights as you tried to see who was strung up on the rack, fully expecting to see a reflection of yourself after all that was how this usually went. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. A sense of cold washed through you as your eyes widened, your whole body shook as you took a terrified step forward. 

“No. No, Jason, no.” You muttered as you took another step forward only to see the darkness from behind Jason's hands flying out of it wrapping around Jason’s beaten and battered body, pulling him closer despite the chains holding him up. 

“No! NO! JASON!” Your voice cracked as you raced forward straight into the darkness. When the darkness cleared you were no longer trying to save Jason from the darkness, you were now the one strung up on the rack. 

Your heart jumped into your throat as your hands wrapped around the chains and your breath came in short quick bursts, your knuckles turned white. No, no, no, this isn’t good, this isn’t good, you weren’t supposed to be here, you hadn’t done anything wrong, you weren’t supposed to be here, what had happened to you? What did you do? You could feel your heart beating against your rib cage as your whole body began to shake and your eyes frantically jumping around the room searching for anyone else. When the door opened your heart stopped when you saw who was walking through it. 

“Jason?” You asked as you watched him walk towards you, picking up a whip as he went. Your blood ran cold as he smiled maliciously at you, his hand stretching out the whip as his eyes traveled up and down the length of your body.

“Where to start, where to start.” Jason muttered but it wasn’t with his voice and through your confusion your brow furrowed just the tiniest bits. He sounded like Dr. Roberts and you weren’t sure what terrified you more the whip in his hands or his voice. 

“Oh I know, how about right here?” He asked as he reached out with the handle of the whip tracing a line from your shoulder down across your chest. Shaking your head you tried to push yourself back away from Jason as he raised the whip in the air. 

“No, no, no, Jason no, please, Jason don’t. Jason don’t! Jason DON’T PLEASE DON’T!” You begged him as he brought the whip down causing you to scream in pain as he brought the whip up again and then down again on your other shoulder creating an X across your chest. 

“No! NO! NO! Jason please! Please! Stop! PLEASE!” You screamed as he continued to whip you. 

~Jason’s P.O.V~

Jason jolted out of the light sleep that he had fallen into his hand tightening around yours as he sat up straight his eyes jumping around the room searching for a threat only to find nothing, not even a guard standing outside the door. Turning his attention back to you he watched in shock as you moved for the first time in literal days. He watched as you twitched and jerked slightly, your face contorting into one of confusion and then pain as a weak sounding whimper escaped your throat. Jason felt his heart break as he watched you and he climbed on to his knees reaching out he grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N) wake up, come on wake up it’s just a dream, wake up.” Jason murmured as he shook you lightly trying to get you to wake up. When that didn’t work he stared at you for a few seconds trying to think of another way to wake you up but he didn’t want to hurt you yet it killed him to see you in such pain and not be able to do anything. Sighing he climbed up to his feet before sitting on the edge of you bed, carefully he shifted around picking you up he set your head on his lap. Running his hands through your hair he whispered calming words trying to comfort you as best he could. It took a good several minutes before you finally calmed down you expression turning peaceful once again as your body went lax in his arms and your breathing evened.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason x reader #jason todd x you #jason x you #jason todd x y/n #jason x y/n #jason todd x female reader #jason x female reader #x reader #reader insert #dc comics imagine #dc comics x reader #female reader #selina kyle #barbara gordon #kate kane #catwoman #batwoman #batgirl #oracle #the void #the void chapter 12 #sorry it took so long to write this #motivation for writing this has been #difficult to come by #that and so hasn't time #but it's written now

[rason-rodd]

Promising (Begging part 6) (Arkham Knight! Jason Todd x Reader)

Summary: Jason, Roy and yourself are following a lead to stop the crime boss hidden behind the weapon traffic in Qurac. Unfortunately, when you come out with a plan, Jason disapproves and tells you he wants you out of this mission. You won’t let him do that.

A/N: So there it is, the penultimate chapter of the “Begging” series. Sorry for the long wait. Hoping it was worth it.

Warning: Fluff, Smut, Angst (slightly), Language, Violence, 

Tagged:  I decided not to tag anyone since I’m not sure everyone would be interested in reading a fanfic that hasn’t been updated for months

PART  1 /  PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5

Jason Todd knew Gotham by heart. He knew her for everything she was. He knew the two sides of her, sides she couldn’t hide, sides she could embrace. He knew her darkness, her light, her beauty, and her monstrosity. He knew the gothic terrifying gargoyles and the menacing dark alleys as much as he knew her brand new modern architecture and the shining luxurious avenues. He knew the sound of Gothamites cheering on a Saturday night as well as the sound of ambulances on a Sunday morning and the silence of hearses on Monday. He knew her people as well. He knew how loud they could shout, laugh, love and fight. He knew how they could give life and how easily they could end it.             Yes, even if she was twisted and flawed, Jason Todd learned to love Gotham for who she was. A microcosm of the world, his world. After, Gotham had brought him to the world, like a mother. And like any mother, she was unique.

That’s why he hated the place he was now. A bright dazzling sun, a thin warm golden sand, a freshly mowed green lawn, a perfectly blue swimming pool and a fancy hotel with a view on the Persian Gulf. A fake dishonest beauty made by rich men who believe that petrol and money give them power and the right to openly enjoy luxury and comfort while the rest of the country is starving and decaying.

“Can I ask you a question, Jaybird?” The never tired Roy Harper asked with a liveliness that had the superpower to annoy Jason. “One, don’t call me that. And two, I’m gonna say ‘no’ but I have the feeling you’ll ask anyway because ‘no’ is apparently a word that is not part of your limited vocabulary.”   “ Still mad at me for booking a suite in this heavenly place I see.” Jason glowered through his black sunglasses, his face half hidden under a cap. “Oh come on! What is it with you batboys? Can’t you enjoy life a little and stop brooding over god knows what?”             “ It was a waste of money.” He replied curtly.           “ Oh really? Because the view right now is not worth millions to you?” Roy nodded towards you approaching the swimming pool wearing a backless black swimsuit that hugged all your curves in the most perfect way. “Damn. What a babe!” Jason’s glare intensified instantly but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. Roy could perfectly understand his jealousy and his anger in his silence. “I can’t see your eyes behind those glasses but I’m definitely sure you’re looking daggers at me right now. It must me your jaw. It is more clenched than usual.”   Jason grumbled and looked back at you entering the water slowly and wetting the nape of your neck. Roy was right. You were indeed very sexy but it wasn’t the word Jason wanted to use to describe you. To him, you were not just sexy. You were gorgeous, sublime and magnificent before all. Simply flawless. Unlike Roy, Jason couldn’t look at you and just think, “Damn! What a babe.” He could only gaze and worship every bit of yourself, admire every curve of your body, worship every inch of your skin. And even when the water was sliding between your breasts and suggesting him to stand up, lick it and do to you all the dirty things he has been repressing for days, he couldn’t help but keep on idolizing you as a goddess.           “ Are you two …?” Roy started and Jason glowered again to warn him. Careful with your words, Roy Harper. “ Together or … something like that?”             “ No.” He replied simply.       “ But you used to, no?” Jason didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to talk about his personal life with a man he had met a few days ago and that he would never see again once the mission over. Plus, he didn’t want to remember the time he had spent with you because even the most beautiful memories can be the most painful. “ I take it as a yes. You’re not a talkative man, you know that?” New silence. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my hands to myself, like Selena Gomez.” He joked but that wasn’t funny to Jason, like at all. “Okay, so: always complaining, quiet and humorless. What did that beautiful creature see in you?”   “ Honestly, I don’t know.”    

“ Aren’t you boys tired of bickering?” You asked as you approached them to sit on the edge of  Jason’s sun lounger.     “ Bickering?” Jason harrumphed as he sat up straight, watching you above his glasses with an incredulous look. “Yes. You look like an old couple after their platinum anniversary.”           “Awww. See Jaybird, we’re a couple. Inseparable and made for each other. Till death do us apart” Roy laughed before he received Jason’s towel in the face “Your death is gonna be very soon, Harper.”             You rolled your eyes, exasperated by their childish behaviours though secretly amused. Those two had the real potential to be best friends. “Anyway, any news on the target?”   “ Finally someone interested in doing the job.” Jason sighed of relief. “Well, according to the hotel registry …”             “ That Roy hacked,”  Roy added with a proud smile             “ He is due to arrive tomorrow.” Jason continued, ignoring him. “He booked the entire penthouse and something tells me that taking that scumbag down won’t be a piece of cake. I went on reconnaissance this morning. It seems there are cameras in the every hotel corridors leading to the suite as well as in the elevator and cherry on top, a security code to access the floor.” “ Can’t we just hack all those things?” You looked at Roy since you knew he was certainly the best hacker among you three. “ I can hack the cameras for sure, yes. But even if I do, we will still have a bunch of gorillas protecting our dealer. He must expect us, or at least you ” He pointed at Jason. “ and we can’t enter without the code which I’m not sure I can hack if it’s digital. And if I can’t hack it none of your bat-toys will work.  ”             “ What about breaking in by the window?” You suggested. “ Thought about that. Impossible. Windows are armoured.”           “ Damn! That dude is paranoid!” Roy’s eyes widened and the three of you remained silent to think of a solution. Luckily, you were the one to find one.     “ Does your man have a buyer already?” You asked, genuinely curious         “ Certainly. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered coming here.”             “ And how much does the cargo cost?”                     “Maybe 10 million dollars. Why?” Jason was a bit scared right now. You sounded too determined.         “ Then maybe we should make an offer worth more than 10 Million, an offer he can’t refuse. That would be the best key to access his suite without breaking in.”   “ Pretending to be potential buyers? I like that.” Roy smiled, definitely cheerful and already into the plan. “Please tell it will involve costumes and accent.  I’m good at Mexican accent.”             “ You won’t need an accent. I have a plan.”

It didn’t sound safe, at all. At least that was what Jason’s brain screamed to him as you explained how you thought you three should proceed. His brain screamed so loud he stopped listening at the “once in the suite” part of your suicide plan. “This is madness!” He growled as he took off his sunglasses for you to realise how much he disagreed with you. “This is gonna get us all killed, Y/N. This is gonna get you killed.”             “ Thanks for worrying for me, I suppose,” Roy mumbled before Jason looked daggers at him. He never meant he didn’t care for Roy to get killed. He barely knew the guy but he was not selfish or heartless enough not to care about his safety. But he would not explain his words right now. “This is not Gotham. These men are not lowly street thugs. This is no batkids game.” “ I never considered it a game.” You managed to say as he briefly stopped in his lecture. “Then why are you acting like a child?”         “ A child?” You harrumphed, stunned by the criticism. You never behaved like a child!   “Reckless!” He clarified. “You don’t know shit about the man you want to deal with. You don’t fucking care about this mission. You got into it because of me. You have no selfless goal in this. All you want is to drag my ass back to Gotham quickly enough to solve the family drama. You don’t take all this seriously.” How could he talk you like that? You opened your mouth to retort, angry and embarrassed but he stood up and kept shouting the same way Bruce used to shout at you when you were Batgirl. “Honestly, Y/N. Just leave this place. Go home. We’ll see each other in Gotham.”         “ No.” Your answer was that simple and it’s probably that simplicity that unsettled Jason. He stared at you with round eyes, mouth agape. You glowered back at him, letting an uncomfortable silence settled between you.           “ You don’t get to decide for me, anymore.” You finally added with a coldness that froze this sunny paradisiac place.   “ When did I ever get to decide for you?” He asked between his gritted teeth.       “ When you left me.” You replied gravely and resentfully. The frown on Jason’s face slowly disappeared and soon guilt and sadness could be read in his young wounded eyes. You knew you had just dropped a bomb on him but you weren’t sure to regret it. After all, he could be such an ass sometimes. “See you both later.” You said as you left him to ponder over your words. “ Wow. I don’t know how you guys broke up, Jaybird, but she’s still not over it.”            

Call it stubbornness or recklessness, you wouldn’t change your mind. You were too involved now. Plus your plan was enough tied together to work, you were sure of it. Jason just needed to open his eyes a little to realise it and stop with his overprotectiveness already.     But he was way too much like you. He would never admit he was wrong or change his mind and, as you were alone in your room, you were getting ready for a new argument since you were certain he was currently establishing a list of undeniable reasons for you to abandon the mission.

When you heard footsteps from behind your door, you guessed you wouldn’t have to wait long. 1, 2, 3 … You started counting on your fingers and the door slammed open. “ What the hell was that?!” You sighed and stared at Jason whose face was now as red as his hood.       “Me avoiding the conflict, I suppose.” You replied calmly. “Since arguing with you is impossible.” “ There was no reason to argue.”       You rolled your hand with a sarcastic smile, waiting for him to go on, to lash out, to tell you everything he wanted to say to you. “I’m taking care of this. You’ve been involved enough.” “ Oh, so I have to leave but Roy can stay?” You frowned.   “ Roy was working on this way before we met.”       “ Oh sorry, I didn’t realize that there was a registration period.” Jason pinched the bridge of his nose to breathe in loudly, definitely annoyed. “ You don’t seem to evaluate the danger, Y/N” “ I evaluate the danger perfectly, Jason. I was trained to do so. Just like you. I’m not rushing into the lion’s hen without a plan.”       “ It’s a bad plan! It won’t work!” He shouted with a trembling voice.         “ Why don’t you trust me?” Jason stared at you. You were genuinely looking for his answer. He could see it in your saddened eyes. “I do trust you. It’s you who don’t trust me.” His tone was suddenly a lot calmer. He came to sit by your side on the bed. “I just want to protect you, like I always did. And you can find my attitude revolting and silly and have all the arguments in the world to try to make me change my mind or even tell me again that it’s me making choices for you, I won’t let you do this. There is too much risk I could lose you.”

Tiny tears had formed in his beautiful blue eyes but he didn’t let them flow. Instead, he just looked away and remained quiet and tensed, his hands gripping tightly at the bed sheets.         You stared at him, not really knowing what to say. Perhaps there was nothing to say, just something to do. You took his hand in yours and he welcomed it by intertwining his fingers yours. But he still couldn’t even glimpse at you, apprehensive of what he would see. He breathed out. “Leaving you was the toughest choice of my life and I get you’re still mad at me. The thing is, seeing you in this bed, between life and death, because of me, was something I could not handle. I couldn’t live with myself and I didn’t want you to live with myself either. I was dangerous, to you, to everyone I loved and I was still broken because of Joker.” You let him talk, listening carefully to his grave confessions which, you knew, was something very hard for him to do. “I’m not broken anymore, not as much as I was when I met you. I picked myself up, accepted that Joker would always be a part of me. But today, it’s not about Joker anymore or about my state of mind, but it’s still about me. Y/N I cannot put you in danger again because … if something happens to you and it’s on me again, then, I don’t think I’ll survive it this time.” Jason looked down at his feet, terrified by his own words and by all the images of you dying on him passing in his head. He still had your hand in his and he was holding it tighter right now, refusing to let you go.

You knelt on the bed and cupped his face, forcing him to finally look at you. He did and accepted you seeing his fear, his weakness. You pressed your forehead against his. “ You will never lose me.” You declared. “But I don’t want to lose you either. You can’t leave again.” He stared right into your eyes; making you a silent promise only your eyes could catch. And he bound that promise with a soft kiss that eased the pain they had both kept during all these years. It was soft, pure, healing.         Jason helped you press your body against his, deepening your kiss. He needed it. He needed that kiss, that embrace. He needed you and he was tired of keeping you away.       He tightened his arms around you. So did you. Your hand on his neck, you pulled him even closer, as if it was even possible, and a soft moan resonated in both your throats. That was the signal Jason so longed to hear again.         He nestled his face in your neck and started kissing you right there. You breathed in deeply, enjoying his expert mouth along with the sudden heat growing and rushing in your body. You lay down on the bed, pulling Jason onto you, and touched his chiseled muscular abs through his t-shirt with the tips of your fingers. How much you had missed his soft hot skin.

Jason pulled up your skirt and his hands venture from your thighs to what was between them. Instinctively, you spread your legs, welcoming Jason between them. He knelt and stared at you with awe and a desire that left you a bit uneasy for his lust was drawn in admiration.  “You’re so perfect.” He whispered. You blushed and when you tried to tell him he was wrong, he caught your lips to kiss you again, this time more passionately than before. You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt to get rid of it.  Jason helped you and threw the fabric away. You gazed at his magnificent chest, ignoring the tiny scars covering it. He was so dashing.

You pushed Jason on the mattress and straddled him. The call of his bare chest was too loud for you to resist your urges any longer. You slowly started planting humid tiny kisses down his body, using occasionally your tongue to lick his hot skin. You loved doing it, perhaps even more than him liking it. And you had missed it terribly.       Jason hissed as you approached the V of his abs, your hands on the hem of his shorts. His jaw was clenched and his blue eyes were now dark with desire, begging you to do it. That made you grin and you pulled his shorts along with his boxers. His half-erect cock sprang free and you grabbed it to jerk him off a bit.       Jason let a small growl escape his lips and sat up to pull off your little dress. How happy he was when he realised you were wearing no bra, and those breasts, gosh, he could gaze at them, at you, forever. He caressed your hair, moving it aside so that he could clearly see your beautiful face and you smiled before kissing the tip of his penis. He hissed again and you looked up at him before starting to suck his cock without breaking eye contact. Jason cursed. That was just divine. “Damn.” You looked divine too, with pleasure glowing on your face as you were genuinely enjoying him in your mouth. Jason began thrusting in you, holding you by your hair, occasionally and accidentally making her almost gag on him, but you didn’t mind. It reminded you good old times and he was still sweet and respectful.         Jason’s head suddenly slammed against the mattress. His eyes closed and his jaw clenched as he gripped your hair harder. You knew what it meant but you didn’t stop. You bobbed your head more quickly and massaged his balls, moaning sensually with his throbbing cock still in your mouth, the way you remembered he liked. “No, please, not now, Y/N.” He moaned and you stopped, rather proud of yourself to see him like that.           “Come here” Your eyes widened slightly when you understood he wanted you to sit on his face but shock moved on to arousal. You did as he said; your pussy already wet, and placed yourself upon his face. Jason caught your thighs and without forewarning began kissing your clit. Your legs instinctively almost closed and you grabbed his hair as his tongue was now playing with your bud. He was doing great, licking up and down, down and up, so great you eventually started moving your hips. “Jay” You whispered. He hummed against you and the vibration made you vibrate yourself, moaning louder than before. He had found the right spot apparently. “Oh, Jay. Ha” You were unable to talk properly now. “Yes right there.”           Jason grabbed your thighs more strongly to keep you still as you were getting  wetter in his mouth. You were close. So close. Only a few more licks and kisses. And that’s it. You caught his thick thighs not to fall and came loudly on his face. Your body trembled and shook under so much pleasure and Jason grabbed your waist, staring at you in admiration as you came undone on top of him. He sat up, held you against him and you nestled your face in his neck, exhausted. “You’re okay?” He asked as he kissed your shoulder. You nodded and he laid you down on the bed again. “Shall we keep going?” You nodded again and positioned himself between your legs. You felt him penetrate you softly and slowly. A sweet moan escaped your mouth and Jason started moving. He was so kind, so gentle, simply perfect. His moves were tender and loving. You loved it so much.       You sighed, enjoying how sweet he was. “I love you, you know?” he said staring at you in the eye. “I love you too, Jay.” He kissed you softly, still moving in and out of you. He kept on that pace for a few minutes but then he felt the urge to come. You felt him and wrapped you legs around him. You wanted him to do it inside of you. He understood it and so he put weight on his arms and he deepened his thrusts. You dug your nails in his arms and watched his cock coming in and out of you more quickly and more roughly between your legs. Jason growled, loudly, and suddenly stopped moving. You felt his cock twitching and his seed spreading inside of you and dripping from your pussy as he pulled out.

Jason let himself fall by your side and breathed out deeply. He didn’t say anything. He simply took your hand in his.         He’ll never let you go. So will you.

#Jason Todd #red hood #Red Hood And The Outlaws #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #begging #promising

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [3/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who, not either of our boys!), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro.

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

A nurse leads them to an empty waiting room with chairs and a table, seemingly unfazed by the situation that has reduced Jason to as mindless as shell as he was before taking a dip in the Lazarus Pit.

“Normally we do visits with the mother and family in the hospital room, but in this case…” she trails off, sympathetic. “I’m very sorry.”

“Yeah,” Jason thinks he says, looking around the spartan décor.

“I’ll be back with your daughter,” she tells him, and leaves.

Jason opens his mouth to protest that word, but it dies on his lips. Somehow it seems dickish to proclaim it’s not his daughter. He’s not sure he could form the sentence right now, anyway. It means acknowledging the existence of a tiny human who may or may not be his—

“It’s transference.”

Jason blinks, looking over at Drake.

“The nurse,” the younger man says. “Calling the baby your daughter. She’s worried and hoping you’ll form an emotional attachment whether the child’s yours or not. You have no obligation to do that just now.”

Jason grits his teeth. “And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because I know what self-flagellation looks like. You can freak out, you know. I won’t tell anyone.”

“And you can be less of a weirdo! How the hell are you so…” Jason fumbles the word, and then furiously gestures up and down. “This.”

“It’s a tense situation and you’re panicked enough for the two of us.”

“I’m not panicked.”

“Jason, you’re completely tense right now, I can almost see how fast your pulse is going and you can barely think straight enough to give answers to simple questions,” Drake tells him. “Obviously you’re suffering from some sort of emotional shock.”

“Shock my ass,” Jason replies automatically. “I’ve been in literal warzones. I don’t do shock.”

“Have you ever learned you might possibly be a father in those warzones?” Jason’s stomach lurches at the word, blood draining from his face; Drake obviously sees it, because he nods as if satisfied. “There you go. Completely different situation. Look, just take a deep breath and—”

“I know how to calm down!” Jason growls. “Now stop managing me and—”

“Here we are!”

They both whirl around as the nurse from earlier reappears, this time wheeling a see-through plastic crib into the room. Inside is a vaguely wriggling lump in pink blankets and cap. There’s a label at the edge of the crib, with the words Baby Ardila neatly printed.

A rushing noise, starting like the hiss of static and turning into the dull road of a waterfall fills Jason’s head.

That’s a baby, right there. Possibly his baby. Isabel’s gone. Dead. Dead in childbirth. Which means if this is his kid, he’s responsible for Isabel’s death. And if that’s the case…what the hell is he supposed to do? He’s not supposed to have this—was never supposed to have anything like this—he’s going to ruin all of this, every second and minute he’s in this room around this kid, it’s like radiation, growing worse the longer exposed—

“Mr. Ardila?”

Jason blinks, looks up, notices the nurse is addressing him—has probably been doing so for a while, judging by the uncertainty in her eyes. She’s holding the baby, and he didn’t even notice her reach into the crib.

“He’s still processing,” Drake says, explaining and covering for him at the same time. Jason swallows, shaking off the lingering invasive thoughts. “She asked if you want to hold her.”

Not really.

He wonders if his thoughts show on his face, because the nurse hesitates, looking a bit uneasy about handing over the swaddled infant. Compared to the tiny bundle, Jason is a giant—over six feet, nothing but muscle and scars, clad in faded leather that may or may not have dried blood on it somewhere and no doubt smelling like a bar’s back alley.

His eyes shoot to Drake who, for the first time tonight—looks just as much at a loss as him. All confidence and strategizing is gone, and he’s looking at the pink-wrapped bundle with the same apprehension as a bomb.

He’s just as out of his element holding a baby as I am.

Maybe more so.

Jason at least has distant memories of doing so. As a kid in Crime Alley, neighbors were forced to rely on each other. If one of the women doing laundry or selling themselves on the corner told you to mind a baby, you minded the baby or you got a slap upside the head.

But that was a long, long time ago. Not as long as for Drake, who likely never had to do that, but long enough that Jason

“Maybe I shouldn’t...” he trails off. “Since she might not be…you know…”

“Yours?” the nurse says, and then turns red, as if she didn’t mean to say that. “It, uh…it wouldn’t hurt, you know. She…her mother didn’t get to hold her at all. So even if she’s not yours, you knew her mother. That’s still more of a connection than anyone else has to her.”

It sounds like spurious logic. Still—

“Okay,” he hears himself say, possibly damning himself with just the one word.

The nurse motions for him to take the chair beside the crib—it’s comically small beneath his frame and he expects the cheap plastic to give, but it never does. Instantly he wants to get back up—eyes flit to the door, the windows, ceiling panels, cataloging possible exits.

Then, the nurse settles the baby into his arms, gently coaching him how to hold her head properly and support the rest of her on his arms.

Jason swallows thickly, trying to become accustomed to the sensation of the slight weight—hell, he’s held guns that weighed more—and immediately has the irrational fear that he’s going to drop or break her.

The baby is red and wrinkled, and hardly even looks like a baby. He’s seen them that small before, sure—as Robin and as Red Hood, he’s been thrown into situations where he had to get pregnant civilians or young mothers to safety. Hell, he’s had to help pregnant women with an emergency delivery.

(Not sure which was more nerve-wracking, when he was a gawky teenaged boy that still fumbled shaving, or the heavy-handed vigilante more suited to holding an AK-47 in his hands than an infant body.)

She’s also very, very small.

“Are they supposed to be that small?” Drake asks, voicing Jason’s question as he peeks over his shoulder. His eyes are wide and a little awed, and Jason can’t recall ever seeing that particular expression on the kid’s face.

“Five pound, fourteen ounces—she’s just within the right weight percentile for her gestational age,” the nurse replies.

She says something else after that, but Jason mostly tunes her out. He probably couldn’t even process it even if he was firing on all cylinders.

He finds his eyes roving over the tiny face, trying to figure out if she looks like him or not. He wants to cite the fact he can’t recognize any of himself in her features as proof she can’t be his, but the fact is…she barely has any identifying features.

Nudging the tiny pink cap she’s wearing upward, he finds feathery strands of indistinct color—could be strawberry blond, like Isabel. Could be red, like his natural color when he isn’t dying it.

Fifty-fifty chance, really.

Her eyes are scrunched shut in sleep, tiny eyebrows—does she even have eyebrows? —drawn together and pink mouth puckered in a frown. Overall, she looks completely uncomfortable.

He waits to feel any kind of affection or connection to the infant, some sort of primal magnetism that he should feel if this is his kid, but there’s nothing.

Only the persistent instinct to make a run for it.

“I’ll give you some time,” she says with a small smile. “There may be a social worker by in the next hour or so. Since we won’t know anything until the tests come back, nothing will be decided tonight, but it wouldn’t hurt to familiarize yourself with whoever is handling the case, even if it is just for the short-term.”

“Thank you,” Drake says politely.

“And if you need anything, the call button to the nurse’s station is right there.”

And she departs.

Jason and Drake stare at each other without speaking for a while. The noise is broken only when the pink bundle in Jason’s arms begins to wriggle and his back goes rigid.

He looks back down at the tiny human in his hands and abruptly realizes he has never been more terrified in his life.

Even in that warehouse, being savagely beaten—he knew what was going to happen. Either he was going to be saved by Batman at the last minute, or he would die. Either way, the pain would end.

It occurs to him that the infant he’s holding has the potential to cause a whole other kind of pain.

“How do I put her down?” he asks through a dry mouth. “She didn’t…she didn’t show how to put her down—”

His hands feel too clumsy, his arms too big and—god, he could crush her.

“Why are you asking me?” Tim asks, an octave higher than normal.

“Because you—”

He cuts off since he has no idea how he was going to answer that.

“Okay,” Drake says after a deep breath. “Okay, let’s try…” And he approaches slowly, eyeing Jason like he’s approaching a wild dog. Jason normally wouldn’t blame him, considering their not-so-great past together, but at the moment, his replacement’s the only one in his corner.  

Somehow, thin but strong fingers slide between the space of leather jacket and blanket, maneuvering so that the baby’s head is supported, and between the two of them they get the infant back in the crib.

She only scrunches up her face and mewls in distaste.

Which is good.

Not crying is good.

He thinks.

Unless it’s a sign that something’s wrong.

Aren’t healthy babies supposed to cry? She doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with her, but how would he know the difference?

I'm not qualified for this.

For a long time, he and Drake stand on either side of the crib, tense and neither really knowing how to break the oppressive silence. Staring down at the little pink creature like it might suddenly rear up and attack.

It would be funny if it all weren’t so terrifying.

Jason hasn’t smoked in almost five years, but just then all he wants it a cigarette. Or a pack.

More time must pass than he expected, because there’s a staccato beeping from Drake’s wrist, and they both look up. Jason watches the other man covertly pull up a holographic screen above his wrist, frowning at the numbers and data blinking at him.

His eyes widen. They’re very blue, Jason notices dimly, in the abstract and tired way you notice strange details in the moments before your life irrevocably changes.

When their gazes connect, Tim Drake’s face says it all.

Jason’s lungs constrict.

“Holy shit,” he croaks, because what the hell else is he going to say?

“Holy shit,” Drake echoes. “This is…not the result I was expecting.”

Jason barks out a bitter laugh and begins to pace, running his fingers through his hair. His throat feels like it’s closing over because up until that moment, he really didn’t think it was real.

Isabel dead, he could believe. Her leaving behind a baby, also believable.

But that the baby is his?

That Jason Todd—the clan fuck-up who never entertained the idea of ever being a father except for maybe a lifetime ago when he also dreamed impossible things like growing up to become Batman—has a kid?

“No!” he rasps, whirling around to face Drake. “No, this is not fair! I’m careful—I’ve always been careful! This is the sort of thing that happens to Bruce. Or maybe Dick, because who knows where he’s been—hell, even Alfred had a kid he didn’t know about.”

“This sort of thing happens more than you think,” Drake tries. “Statistically speaking—"

“It doesn’t happen to me!” Jason hisses back.

Especially since he’s always made it a point to only sleep with people he knew were species incompatible, didn’t have the body parts necessary to get pregnant or on birth control. The few times he’d been with Isabel, she’s even laughed at him because of how intent he was to stop and put on a condom.

“This is…” Jason begins, fighting down the mounting urge to throw up. “It’s too much, I need to—”

“Take a walk,” Drake tells him, a commanding note in his voice that is eerily reminiscent of Bruce. “An hour or two somewhere else to clear your head. Or longer, if you need to. I can keep an eye on things here—especially since she’s here for a few days anyway while we wait for the blood tests.”

The unnecessary blood tests, the ones that will tell them the same thing the Bat tech has already figured out.

“And arrangements will need to be made for Isabel,” he continues, then pauses. “If you want me to.”

Jason should say no.

He should tell Drake to back off, to let Jason figure this out the way he always figures things out—on his own. That he doesn’t trust him or anyone enough to deal with this situation properly.

But the lure of escape is too strong just then, and the hospital room feels like it’s closing in on him like a coffin.

He throws one last panicked look at the baby in the crib and then flees the maternity ward.

Jason is not entirely sure he’s going to come back.

________________________________________________________________

But we all know he's going to come back...

So, I'm really hoping I've portrayed Jason's reactions in a believable way. I just figure finding out he's had a kid would hit him a lot harder and he'd be way more surprised about it than Bruce was when he found out about Damian. I figure he would need time to process. And as for Tim, I always see him as the one who steps in and tries to fix everything even when it's beyond his wheelhouse. He's probably panicking as much as Jason right now...

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels

Next Chapter

#jaytim #jaytim fanfiction #babyfic #kidfic #violetsmoak #violet writes #accidental baby acquisition #angst #drama #eventual romance #reluctant allies #jason todd #tim drake #original character

[undertheinfluencerd]

https://ift.tt/2WZ2Mgx #

In 1988 DC readers famously decided against keeping Batman’s second Robin alive, taking part in a fan vote where they could choose whether or not to kill Jason Todd off at the end of the classic storyline A Death in the Family. To the shock of many, in a close vote it was decided that Jason would die at the hands of the Joker. And while it may seem like a bit of cruelty on the part of the fans to vote to kill a young boy, in both the short term and the long term they made the right call.

Jason was first introduced in 1983’s Batman #357 by Gerry Conway, Don Newton and Alfredo Alcala as a replacement Robin after Dick Grayson struck out on his own and became Nightwing. Jason originally had almost the exact same origin as the first Robin: he was part of a family of circus acrobats who was taken in by Bruce Wayne after his parents were killed. After the events of Crisis on Infinite Earths, Jason’s origin was revamped in Batman #408 by Max Allan Collins and Chris Warner. He was now depicted as an orphan from the streets who got caught trying to steal the tires off the Batmobile. After first sending him to a school for wayward boys that turns out to be front for a criminal enterprise, Bruce takes Jason into his own home. Despite having vowed to never train another sidekick after Dick, the boy eventually takes on the mantle of Robin.

Related: Red Hood Proves He’s Just As Good As Batman (And Could Be Better)

The death of Robin in Batman #428 by Jim Starlin and Jim Aparo has been revisited many times in DC Comics, both from the effect that it had on Batman, as well as from Jason’s own perspective after he returned from the dead. Since coming back to life and becoming Red Hood, Jason has been something of a black sheep in the Bat-Family. He initially appeared as a villain seeking revenge against Batman for not killing the Joker. He later became a vigilante who was not averse to using guns and lethal methods to take down criminals. And while his current role in the Bat-Family has been recently reexamined through titles such as Future State: Gotham and Batman: Urban Legends – as well as his live-action debut in the Titans show – his actual time as Batman’s Boy Wonder and the reason why comic book fans chose to kill him has not received as much attention.

Dick Grayson premiered on the comics page in 1940 with a big smile on his face and became famous for his “Gee whiz!” attitude in both the comics and on television. He was introduced as a way to appeal to children and give them someone they could relate to: a kid their age who tagged along with his hero and helped save the day. Even though he had a tragic backstory that saw his parents murdered in front of his eyes, most stories focusing on Robin were rather light, in fitting with the tone of Batman comics in general at the time. As the ‘70s rolled around, he eventually began to grow up, and finally struck out on his own as the hero Nightwing.

Once Jason was re-introduced following Crisis on Infinite Earths, he could not have been more different from Dick Grayson. Instead of being bright eyed and bushy tailed, he had a bit of an edge to him. He came from the wrong side of the tracks, growing up in Gotham’s Crime Alley where Batman’s parents were murdered. He was a streetwise kid who lived on his own, smoked cigarettes and committed crimes. He had an attitude and by the time he was taken under Batman’s wing, he was less patient than Dick and was overly eager to get out on the streets and start busting heads. The ‘80s marked a time when comics began to move into grittier and edgier territory, and Jason very much reflected the trends of the time.

Fan reaction to the new Robin was mixed. This explains why the vote to kill him was so close (only 72 more people voted to kill him than voted to save him). But looking back at Jason’s brief time as Robin, and it is easier to understand why he might have rubbed some readers the wrong way. He was, in a word, annoying. While stories tried to depict him as a rebellious counterpart to Dick Grayson’s more Boy Scout nature, his constant pushing back against Batman and Alfred could often come off as bratty. Given Dick’s tragic loss of his parents, it made sense that he would try to be a hero and help others from experiencing the same grief that he had to endure. With Jason, though his father died while working for Two-Face, his motives came off as less heroic. He was presented as someone who wanted to punish criminals and have an excuse to fight bad guys, rather than someone looking for justice or to protect others.

Related: DC Teases How Nightwing Almost Became Red Hood Instead

Jason displayed many personality traits that would later play out after he was resurrected as the Red Hood. From early on, Jason seemed to have no problem killing enemies. When an imposter was going around dressed as Batman and murdering criminals in Batman #402 by Max Collins and Jim Starlin, Jason questions if it’s such a bad thing that he’s killing people. In Batman #424 by Jim Starlin and Doc Bright, one of the final storylines right before his death, it is heavily implied that he kills a criminal named Felipe Garzonas. Angered when Felipe walks free after abusing a woman so badly she commits suicide, Jason corners him on the fire escape of his apartment. As Batman arrives on scene, he sees the villain plummet to his death. While Robin claims that the man fell, Batman is not so sure, and later expresses his doubts about keeping Jason on as his sidekick.

While fans might have wanted to just get rid of a teenage sidekick they didn’t like, the vote ended up paying dividends for Batman stories for decades. Jason’s death haunted Batman for much of the ‘90s. His Robin costume hung up in the Batcave for years, serving as a reminder for Bruce of the cost of his war on crime. During key moments in storylines like Knightfall, Bruce is haunted by the memory of Jason’s death and the thought that he could have done something different to save his young ward. Getting rid of Jason also opened the door to a new Robin in the form of Tim Drake, a character who proved to be much more popular with fans and has been acknowledged by many characters to be the best Robin that Batman ever had.

For years Jason Todd was one of the few characters who it was ruled should stay dead. Joining the ranks of Uncle Ben and Bucky Barnes (who would later return to life himself as the Winter Soldier), it was an accepted rule that Jason should stay dead, as a reminder of the cost and a failure for Batman. But that rule changed in the 2005 storyline Under the Red Hood. After facing the villainous Red Hood vigilante, Batman is shocked to discover that it is Jason himself, returned to life using Ra’s al Ghul’s Lazarus Pits.

This kicked off a compelling arc for the character that has been more rewarding than simply leaving him dead would have been. Jason struggled to understand why Batman continued to let the Joker live, and was furious that his death wasn’t enough to finally convince the Dark Knight to put down the Clown Prince of Crime for good. In the years that followed, Red Hood remained on the outs with the rest of the Bat-Family, who looked down on his lethal methods. He himself has struggled to find his place and see how much of a hero he really is. Recent storylines like Batman: Three Jokers and Batman: Urban Legends have seen him grapple with his relationship with Bruce and memories of his own murder. Future State: Gotham depicts him going undercover as an agent for Batman against their enemies, with the rest of the Bat-Family believing him to have turned traitor.

It’s tough to know how the past 30 years of Batman stories would have played out if more fans had voted to keep Jason Todd alive at the end of A Death in the Family. But there have been plenty of great stories and character moments that have come from this decision. It re-established Joker as a dangerous and murderous villain. It made Batman struggle with his role as a father figure and a crusader for justice. It opened the door for Tim Drake and other future Robins. And it made Jason Todd one of the most interesting and three-dimensional characters in Batman comics. And it all happened because a bunch of fans decided to kill Robin.

Next: Red Hood’s Greatest Fear Is Becoming The Next Joker

#marvel #avengers #marvelcomics #spiderman #mcu #ironman #comics #captainamerica #thor #avengersendgame #marvelstudios #xmen #dc #marveluniverse #art #cosplay #tomholland #hulk #disney #comicbooks #dccomics #peterparker #tonystark #blackwidow #marvellegends #endgame #deadpool #marvelcinematicuniverse #loki #bhfyp

The post Batman Fans Were Right to Vote for Jason Todd’s Death appeared first on undertheinfluencerd.net.

#entertainment, screenrant #tumblr #aesthetic #like #love #tumblrgirl #follow #instagram #photography #instagood #likeforlikes #s #likes #art #cute #o #girl #followforfollowback #a #tumblrboy #grunge #fashion #photooftheday #tiktok #l #photo #sad #k #frases #f #bhfyp

#Undertheinfluencerd

[carbonjen]

I love reading your stories, I would play around with your tags and go back to read your old fics because they are awesome as well. if you are doing prompts can we get a jaydick disney au? Like peter pan au, robin hood au, alice in wonderland au, any that you'd like.

So there are definitely a lot of these types of AUs that I could do, but I have an idea with the peter pan one so I’m going to run with it.

Growing Up

When Jason was thirteen years old, curled up in an empty alley somewhere, he didn’t think he would make it to the next morning. That’s why, when Dick Grayson flew, literally flew in and pulled Jason into the sky and stars, Jason thought he had died and gone to heaven.

Neverland was a magical place where food was plentiful, adventures were a daily occurrence, and the real world seemed like a figment of imagination. Jason loved being one of Dick Grayson’s lost boys, fighting the pirates, playing with pixies, and getting lost in the action.

He should have enjoyed it more than he did, but after a long stretch of time, Jason missed reading, the battles with the pirates got old, and the edges of Neverland began to feel like confines. Leave it to Jason to turn the most magical, wonderful place into something he hated.

It all came tumbling down around him one day when he was reading a book in the trees and one of the other lost boys snatched it out of his hands, frowning at the pages and tossing it aside.

“Hey,” Jason shouted as he stood up, that was mine!”

“It’s a book,” the lost boy said, grabbing the book again before Jason could pick it up from the ground. “Books are boring, don’t you want to ride a centaur or meet up with the mermaids.”

“I don’t want to go on an adventure today,” Jason said, not realizing they were gaining the attention of Dick and the other lost boys. “Now give it back!”

“No!” The lost boy laughed as he jumped from branch to branch until he dropped the book in the mud.

“What the heck?” Jason asked, the book ruined. He’d tried so hard to take it from the pirate ship and keep it in good condition so he could switch it out for another one day. “Why can’t you just grow up?” Jason asked.

“Whoa, hey,” Dick said as he stepped in, pushing the two apart as Jason tried to push the mud from the pages of the book. “There’s none of that here, why don’t you and I talk, Jason.”

It wasn’t a question and Jason felt his heart sinking as he followed Dick into the large living area inside the hollow of a giant tree.

“Jason,” Dick said, floating down and sitting cross legged on a toadstool. “I’ve noticed that you’re...acting strange.”

“I’m tired of it,” Jason admitted, looking down when he saw the wide eyed Dick look Dick was giving him, like he couldn’t believe Jason had said those words. “I’m tired of the same adventures every day, I’m tired of the same thing all the time. I want to read books and learn things, and do something different. I...” Jason looked back into Dick’s bright blue eyes. “I want to go back home, Dick.”

“But this is your home,” Dick said.

“No it’s not,” Jason replied. “Not anymore. I want you to take me back, I want to grow up.”

Dick looked at him for a long moment, frown on his face as he waited for Jason to change his mind. “Okay,” Dick finally said with a sigh. “You can change your mind, you know.”

“I know,” Jason replied. He followed Dick out of the tree and into the darkening sky of Neverland. It was pink and blue and peach, reminding Jason of the sweet foods they ate every day, reminding Jason what he was going back to.

The skies of Gotham were the color of a bruise, a dark blue purple that almost made Jason change his mind. Dick dropped him off in a familiar alley and the stench of it was awful, but familiar. Jason wondered how much time had passed since he’d been gone.

“Goodbye Jason,” Dick said.

“Goodbye Dick,” Jason turned around and Dick was gone. He looked to the sky, but the second star to the right was obscured by the thick cloud of smog that always seemed to hover over crime alley.

Three Years Later

On a very hard day, Jason always had trouble remembering the time he’d spent in Neverland. He’d been gone for a year, but Gotham hadn’t changed a bit as the time had passed. It was still the same dark, crime ridden city and Jason’s absence had meant nothing. The darkness that clung to the city’s core was so different from the magic of Neverland and the bright presence of Dick Grayson.

It wasn’t until Jason felt the stirrings of puberty in his gut, did he realize how much of a wonder Dick Grayson had been. At sixteen years old, Dick had maintained the childish wonder that many, including Jason, had lost. The more Jason thought back on him, the more he realized that Dick Grayson was the most beautiful person Jason had ever seen.

Late at night when Jason touched himself, he would find himself thinking of Dick, the other male’s name on his lips. He wondered if he could really go back to Neverland. Jason wasn’t a kid anymore. It didn’t matter that Jason was sixteen, he was living on his own and having to make his own money. He was the very adult that the lost boys had loathed.

Jason was reading one night and the pages of his book had blurred as those thoughts entered his head again. What would his lost boys think if he went back? Would they even welcome him? Most of all, what would Dick think?

Jason heard a noise on the fire escape outside and he grabbed a baseball bat, setting his book down as he went to the window and opened it. He pushed outside and then he froze when he saw a familiar figure perched on the railing with wide eyes.

“Dick?” Jason asked.

Dick smiled awkwardly and shifted in place. “I uh...I lost my shadow?”

“We both know that’s bull,” Jason said as he set the bat down. “You never lost your shadow, that was Tim.”

Dick shrugged and looked at Jason, “You got me,” he said, but was weak and Jason and Dick both that.

“Come in,” Jason said as he stepped back and away from the window. Dick slid off the railing and inside, all liquid grace, more beautiful than Jason remembered.

“Is this your parents’ place?” Dick asked as he looked around. He poked around the secondhand bookshelf full of secondhand copies of books, spines worn and pages dog eared.

“No,” Jason said. “It’s mine.”

Dick turned to look at him. “You really did it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Jason said as he looked down. “I uh...I did, huh?”

Dick continued to walk around and Jason’s eyebrows quirked as he watched it. “Why aren’t you flying?”

“Oh,” Dick said. “I uh...there’s a reason for that I guess.”

“Are you going to tell me that reason?” Jason replied.

Dick went to Jason’s chair and sat down, picking at the material with his fingers. “I thought a lot about you when you left,” he said. “What you said.” Dick rests his chin in his hand and then looks at Jason. “Do you know how long I’ve lived in Neverland?”

“Not exactly,” Jason replies. “All I know was that it was a long time.”

“I looked at a newspaper when I came and picked up some kids recently,” Dick told him. “A hundred and seventy five years,” he said.

“Wow,” Jason whispered. “That’s a long time.”

“A hundred and seventy five years,” Dick said. “Of doing the same thing every day, with the same people. Kids have left before, they’ve grown up, I’ve let them, and then there’s you.” Dick shook his head. “You left to grow up and I was supposed to forget you, I was supposed to move on and then...I couldn’t.” Dick curls up and holds his knees to his chest. “I got tired of fighting the pirates, and the lost boys noticed something had changed. I came here and I watched you, the things you did, the way you said my name when you...touched yourself.” Dick shivered.

“Dick,” Jason said, but Dick continues speaking.

“I realized I was tired of pretending,” Dick stood and he approached Jason.

Dick had always been taller than him, but now, Jason stood a couple inches higher than Dick who looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes. Dick outside of Neverland seemed almost wrong. His eyes were too bright, his skin too golden, all of him was too beautiful for Gotham and for Jason’s shitty apartment.

“I had to grow up eventually,” Dick told him. “I kept putting it off and putting it off and then you came along and I started wanting it.”

“Dick you don’t want this,” Jason said, gesturing around him. “This isn’t nice, it isn’t happy.”

“But it’s real,” Dick replied. “I want this, I want you,” Dick put his hands on Jason’s chest and Jason could do nothing but stare. “Anyways, it’s too late.”

“What do you mean it’s too late?”

“When I left Neverland I left for good,” Dick told him. “I put one of the lost boys in charge and he dropped me off here. He and I both knew that whether I liked it or not, I had grown up past the point of Neverland.”

“What?” Jason asked. “But how...I don’t understand.”

“I want you,” Dick told him. “Not as a friend. I want you in ways that aren’t okay in Neverland.”

“Dick,” Jason whispered, but he couldn’t say anything else because Dick was kissing him and his mouth was better than Jason had ever imagined. It held the taste of the sweet fruits that hung in the trees in Neverland and the familiar effervescence of magic that was still clinging onto Dick. Jason was a bit more experienced, but Dick learned quickly, moving his mouth against Jason’s in way that made him groan. 

“It’s not going to be easy,” Jason told him. 

“I know,” Dick replied. “But I’ll take it if it means I can have this.”

#jaydick #my writing #my fic #carbon writes #prompt fills #peter pan au #Anon #anonymous

[jasonsgrayson]

For the amazing @vannguyen0507 who keeps sending me the best prompts.

Dick Grayson stepped off the train to Zootopia, and felt his heart swell in his chest. The entire city was bright and colorful. All kinds of people walked together across the bright green grass. Werelions and weregazelles walked side by side, toddlers with wolf ears played soccer with kids with squirrel tails. Dick felt his long gray ears perk up. He swallowed down a giddy giggle and tightened his grip on his suitcase. He half walked, half skipped across the sidewalk, blue eyes taking in everything he could. He gazed in amazement at a smoothie bar that served weregiraffes and weremice at the same time. He stared dumbstruck at the massive, wereelephant sized buildings, and spent ten minutes examening the architecture of Little Rodentia. Dick kept walking through the city toward the address of his apartment. As he walked the city started to get grittier, the people he passed became more and more suspicious looking. He picked up his gait in excitement, and made his way to his street. Gotham Alley, it was called. Dick’s face split into a grin and he quickly made his way inside Park Row Apartments. There was a wereweasel sitting at the front desk flipping through a werecat skin mag. “Hi,” Dick waved, his cottontail twitching. “I’m Dick Grayson, I’m the new tenant.” The wereweasel looked up. He had short, stocked back greasy hair and a pot belly. His name tag read Carl. “Wererabbit, nice. I’m Carl Wise. I’m here from five to five if you ever feel like stopping by,” his grin and the way he shifted his legs told Dick all he needed to know about what would happen if he were to ever stop by. “No thanks,” Dick said, sticking his hand in his pocket, and closing it around the fox repellent just in case. “I just want to see my apartment.” Carl shrugged, “It’s your world, bunny.” Dicks lips thinned, but he chose not to reply. He sincerely doubted it would get him anywhere. The elevator was broken, Carl led him up the stairs to the third floor. His apartment was the sixth one down. The door two to the right of his had caution tape x'ed across of it. Dick’s ears twitched unhappily, but he ignored it. He would be a cop tomorrow, he could fix it then. Carl unlocked his door and pushed it open, revealing a tiny apartment that was barely big enough to fit Dick’s tiny frame. He couldn’t imagine any bigger were ever living there. “This is your apartment, just keep it clean and don’t break anything, or it’s showing up in your rent,” he said. He handed Dick the key. “This is your key, do not lose it. I have the only spare.” He said it with a suggestive leer. Dick smiled as best he could and nodded. “Got it,” he said, voice strained. “Alright, good bunny,” Carl said, and smacked Dick’s ass before he left. Dick’s hands clenched and he thought about saying something, but he considered where he was and shook it off. He was in the bad part of town, he knew that going in. He’d chosen it on purpose in order to sharpen his detective skills, and because the rent was cheap. Dick shook his head and started to walk inside. “Who’re you?” Someone asked. Dick nearly leaped out of his skin, and spun quickly around. Standing there, silent as a mouse was a werefox. He was tall for a fox, with thick corded muscle, and a white stripe in his hair. He was at least a foot taller than Dick, but not nearly as big as the werelion Dick had seen on the way in. Dick was immediately on edge. He knew what foxes were like. He tried to be kind to all were’s, but he’d spent half his life bullied by foxes, and those things made a mark. “Dick Grayson, who are you?” He asked. The werefox pushed off the wall and slunk foreword. Dick swallowed hard and forced himself not to reach into his pocket. The werefox didn’t stop until he was only inches away from Dick. Dick held his ground. “Nice to meet you,” the werefox said. “I’m Jason Todd. I live across the hall.” Of course he did. Because nothing in Dick’s life could be simple. Instead of backing away, Dick stuck out his hand, which forced Jason to back up and put some distance between them. Jason stared at his hand for a moment, before enveloping it in his much larger one, and shaking it solidly. “It’s nice to meet you too, Jason. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened over there?” Dick asked, pointing toward the cautioned off door. He was curious, and he felt more comfortable asking Jason than Carl. “Oh,” Jason said, leaning back on his heels. “Yeah, that apartment belonged to a wereowl, Edward Nigma. They say he went insane. Started carving riddles into the walls with his fingernails. Then he started carving them into people.” Jason said it so matter of factly, and let it did nothing to calm Dick. Five minutes into his new life and he already has a pervert for a super, a creep living across the hall, and a crime scene next door. It almost overwhelmed him, but he wouldn’t let it. He was the first wererabbit cop ever, he would not let his apartment scare him away from his dream. “Well, at least he’s gone now,” Dick replied. Jason looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’re weird, cottontail.” Jason said. Dick sighed. “Ok, could you not call me that?” Dick asked. Jason shrugged. He turned and walked back to his apartment. He opened the door but stopped before stepping inside. “See you around, cottontail.” He said before stepping all the way inside and closing the door solidly behind him. Dick sighed. He didn’t like Jason, he decided. Though he supposed that was just as well, he was a fox after all. Dick finally stepped inside his apartment. It smelled like dust and something less than pleasant, but it wasn’t rank. The bed was made, but the sheets were thin and ragged. There was a single small desk, and a mini kitchen. The walls were painted beige, and the wood floor was full of scratches. Dick set his suitcase down on the bed and unzipped it. He pulled out a single picture frame and set it on his new desk. The picture was his favorite. It was old and slightly wrinkled at the corners, but in the frame you couldn’t tell. There were three people in the picture. Bruce Wayne, his adoptive werecat father, and Alfred Pennyworth, the werecat butler, and Dick himself. Bruce sat on the plush leather chair, looking exasperated as he held on to a squirming Dick, who sat on his lap, smiling blindingly wide. Alfred stood behind the chair, looking down fondly at them. It was the picture that had been taken before the family portrait. In family portrait that hung in one of the living rooms in the Wayne Manor, they all stood still and prim, unsmiling. Dick preferred this one. Dick leaned back in his chair and looked at the picture. He smiled to himself and picked up his phone. Bruce would want to hear that he’d gotten to his apartment in one piece, that he was safe. — Dick’s first day on the force was less than ideal. He’d been delegated to meter maid, and when he’d gotten sidetracked stoping a robbery in progress, he’d gotten chewed out by Chief Gordon for not doing his job. His awful day accumulated in his accidentally stepping in cement on the way home. By the time he got past Carl and stood in front of his door, he was exhausted and trying not to cry. He stuck his key in the lock of his door, but before he could turn it he heard whispering coming from down the hall. Jason was standing there, forearm braced against the wall, boxing in a pudgy werepig who was squealing softly. Dick didn’t know what was happening, but if Jason was involved it was probably bad. Dick pulled his key back, and walked slowly closer, trying his best to keep from being noticed. The closer he got the more he could hear. “I know you have my money, swine. Now, are you going to be a good little piglet and give me what’s mine, or am I going to have to make bacon?” Jason growled. Dick was absolutely appalled. He rushed foreword, grabbing Jason’s arm and pulling him away. Jason snatched his arm back and growled at Dick. “Keep out of this cottontail,” he snapped. “I’ll keep out when I’m sure you’re not going to kill anyone.” Dick shot back, because if he was honest he really wasn’t sure. Jason rolled his eyes, he looked angry but he didn’t do anything to Dick. Instead he turned back to the werepig. “Ok, here’s the deal Canadian bacon, cottontail over here is a cop, so I can’t hurt you now. What does that mean? That means that I will find you, and I will made you into shishkabob’s, and you won’t know when, where or how I’m coming for you. So, why don’t you scurry along and find me my money?” Jason’s voice had softened to a deadly whisper. The werepig squealed, nodded a dozen times, and took off down the hall. “What was that?” Dick snapped, his already sour mood getting worse. “That, my dear hopper, was business. Relax, I wouldn’t actually hurt him, that’s bad for said business. No, I just give people a talking to and usually they fess up.” Jason said, unconcerned. “And if they don’t fess up?” And suddenly the mood changed. Jason got a weird look in his eyes. Something sour and dark. “Everyone reports to somebody, Dick, even me. I report them to my boss, and he deals with them. He’s a real hoot.” A chill went down Dick’s spine. Jason shook his head and looked down. He looked back up suddenly with a confused smile. “What the hell happened to you?” He snorted. His fingers found their way to Dick’s ears. Dick’s breath caught as Jason rubbed his fingers in them. They came away dusty. “You have cement in your ears.” Jason said incredulously. Dick swallowed hard. “It’s been a long day.” “Yeah,” Jason sighed. “‘Me too.” He was silent for a moment, and then, “Want to go get something to drink?” He asked. Dick was taken aback. He’d known Jason for two days, and they weren’t exactly compatible. “What?” “A drink. You. Me?” He ended on a question. There was a light in his eyes, something new that Dick was undeniably drawn to. “Not tonight,” Dick said decidedly. Jason raised an eyebrow. “Not tonight?” “Not tonight.” “Tomorrow?” “We’ll see.” Jason was dangerous, Dick knew, he was a fox after all. But either way he had a clearer picture now. There was something off, something dark. Dick was drawn to it, as much as he knew he shouldn’t be. Jason was handsome, but shifty eyed. He was looking at Dick with a sly smirk that bled trouble. Dick turned and walked back to his apartment. He put the key back in the lock and turned it. “See you later, Jason,” Dick called from the doorway. “See you later, cottontail.”

#jaydick #jaydick prompts #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #otp #otp prompts #zootopia au #zootopia #dc #dc comics

[ao3feed-timdrake]

The Harper-Todd Home for Street rats and the Occassional Criminal

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2jJ1FbJ

by Jaybirds_Night

What if Bruce never adopted Tim or the rest of the Bat family after Jason died/came back? What would happen to them?

Roy and Jason happen and it all started with a little baby named Lian. Then add about eight more kids, three female babysitters that are criminals and a giant human-reptile hybrid camping out in their basement and life at the safe house on the edge of Crime Alley gets a bit more complicated. Especially when Bruce is kept in the dark about it.

Welcome to the Harper-Todd home.

Words: 774, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Roy Harper, Jason Todd, Lian Harper, Tim Drake, Sasha, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, Harper Row, Helena Bertinelli, Colin Wilkes, Selina Kyle, Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley, Waylon Jones

Relationships: Roy Harper & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Selina Kyle, Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Waylon Jones

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, what if..., Dysfunctional Family, Humor, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, Roy and Jason become parents, adopt all the batkids before Bruce, and harbor wanted criminals

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2jJ1FbJ

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #DC #DC comics #Tim Drake #Batman #teen titans #young justice