#Lying to Robin isn’t Good for One’s Health

[nhasablogg]

Lying to Robin isn’t Good for One’s Health

Author: Kourtni

Fandom: Stranger Things (volume 2 spoilers)

Characters: Dustin, Steve, Eddie, Robin

Summary: All Dustin wants to do is work on his D&D character, but then Steve has to turn himself into a tickle fight target which will then turn him into one. Who knew Eddie and Robin were so cruel.

N: You all know Kourtni! One of the original members of the community has blessed us with a fic and I had the honor of posting it! I won’t be accepting other people’s submissions, but seeing as Kourtni doesn’t have a blog anymore and reached out to me, of course I’ll help share this with the world!

Kourtni: I couldn’t help myself. Obviously, I’m taking major creative liberties in this, but in my head, everyone lives happily-ever-after, idgaf. Three years of not writing though, so don’t judge me too harshly. I miss everyone and love all y’all.

Words: 2.5k

Two weeks.

That’s how long it’d been since Hawkins had been saved and Eddie’s name had been cleared. El was still recovering from the fight with Vecna; they all were recovering honestly, and while her friends had certainly helped, El was the one who did the majority of the fighting. Hopper was finally allowing her visitors, but she wasn’t allowed to leave the house until she could stay awake for at least an hour straight. Max was similarly resting. El was able to reach Max and bring her back. Life was slowly getting back on track after months of Vecna shit. Summer break was coming to an end, the older teens were preparing for college/the “real” world, the younger teens were preparing for sophomore year, everyone who hadn’t left Hawkins during the spring were preparing for Hopper’s and Joyce’s wedding…it was normal. 

Well, as normal as Hawkins could be.

Dustin wasn’t sure what brought on this wistful reminiscing of his, but he couldn’t help it. Life had been unceremoniously crazy for months and then BOOM. Normal. Dustin rubbed his neck, feeling like he had whiplash. He was currently working on his D&D character, trying to change the look up, while Steve, Eddie, and Robin were arguing about some movie that just came out. They were hanging out at Skull Rock, a pastime of theirs’ recently. 

“Look, Bowie is awesome, always has been, always will be, but Labyrinth is shit.” Steve said. 

“You can shut the fuck up right now about Labyrinth; it was a masterpiece.” Eddie retorted. 

Steve scoffed. 

“Robin, back me up here!” Eddie demanded.

“Apologies my heterosexual lifemate, but Locks is right. You can shut the fuck up about that cinematic beauty.” Robin told Steve. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What have I said about calling me ‘Locks’?”

“Get a haircut and you’ll get a new nickname.” 

“Dustin will back me up,” Steve assured himself. Dustin could feel Steve’s eyes boring into him. “Henderson, tell them the movie is shit.”

Dustin simply rolled his eyes and continued his sketching. 

“Henderson!” Steve shouted. 

“I’m working.” Dustin replied, not even looking up. 

“You can work and tell them the movie sucked at the same time.” 

“Yes, I can. However, I won’t because I don’t care.” 

“What have I told you about that tone of yours?” Steve grumped. Dustin didn’t have to look at the older boy to know that his hands were on his hips. 

“You do have a shitty tone, Henderson.” Eddie agreed. 

“I thought it would’ve gotten better, but I honestly think it’s worse.” 

“That’s something we can agree on, Harrington.” 

Dustin rolled his eyes once more, erasing the coat of arms on his shield and starting again. 

“I think he gets his ego from you,” Robin interjected, pointing at Steve. “And he gets his sass from you.” She pointed at Eddie. 

“Me? I don’t have an ego!” 

“And I’m sarcastic, not sassy.” 

Robin laughed. “You both have ego and sass in spades. It’s bound to rub off on your spawn.” 

“I was not spawned by either of them.” Dustin retorted, finally looking up from his character work. 

“He’d have better hair.” Eddie commented. 

“My hair is just fine, thank you,” Dustin ran a hand over his curls. “I’ve been using your-”

“Hey!” Steve shouted, stopping Dustin in his tracks. He motioned a cut across his neck, clueing Dustin in on how he almost broke his promise from two years ago. 

“Shit! Sorry, uh…I’ve been using Your Mama’s hair care products!” Dustin lied. “Yeah, it’s a uh, a new brand.” 

Robin and Eddie were not convinced in the slightest. 

“‘Your Mama’ hair care products?” Robin asked incredulously. 

“That’s the best you could come up with? I’m not only embarrassed for you, I’m also disappointed.” Eddie responded. 

“It’s totally real!” Steve supplied. “I’ve seen them when shopping with my parents.” 

Dustin grinned triumphantly. Steve would always have his back. 

Robin stood up and walked towards Steve, who took a reflexive step backward, trying to make the back of his head out of reach for the impending slap he was sure was coming. 

“I think what Dustin was going to say was that he was using your hair care products, Stevie.” Robin said sweetly, wiggling her eyebrows at Steve. “What do you think, Locks?” 

Eddie grinned, chuckling out, “Definitely.” 

Steve scoffed, but it was a little higher pitched than what he’d wanted. 

“You know I hate it when you lie. We’ve talked about it before.” Robin said, taking a predatory step towards Steve. 

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “Hey now, I-I’m not lying! My mom uses the products all the time!” 

Robin darted out her hands, poking all along Steve’s torso, making him swear and twist about with every poke. 

“R-Robin! Stohop!” Steve was trying his hardest to keep the laughter at bay, making Dustin’s grin from earlier widen. Steve was seriously one of the most ticklish people he’d ever met. 

Eddie’s grin was widening too, except his was more mischievous than Dustins’. 

“Oh man…Steve Harrington is ticklish?!” Eddie practically yelled. 

“Steve Harrington is ticklish as all get out!” Robin replied. “Isn’t that right Stevie?” She punctuated the last statement with a quick rake of her fingers down both sides of Steve’s ribs. Steve yelped before dissolving into true laughter. He was backing away from Robin and tripped over a tree root, hitting his head on the forest floor. 

“If you think your lack of grace was going to save you, you’re wrong!” Robin crowed before jumping on Steve and vibrating her hands on both sides of his ribs. 

“Noho! Robin!” Steve shrieked. He was trying to grab her wrists to stop the torment.  

“Help me out here Locks!”

“My pleasure!” 

“S-Stay bahahack E-Eddie!” Steve demanded. Or well, Dustin assumed it was a demand, but it kinda lost its power with all the giggling. 

Eddie didn’t listen to it either way, he sat by Steve’s head and grabbed his wrists, freeing Robin’s hands to continue their torture of his ribs. 

“Bahahastard!” 

“Oh you shouldn’t have called me that Big Boy. Let’s see where else you’re ticklish.” Eddie grinned evilly and used his free hand to tickle under Steve’s arms. Steve threw his head back and shrieked with laughter, twisting his torso from left to right as if trying to dislodge the hands that were torturing him. Dustin couldn’t help but laugh himself as he watched his friend get tickled to pieces. 

“Stohop! Pleeehehease!” Steve begged, heels drumming on the forest floor as he struggled. Eddie and Robin continued their assault, moving their hands to new places like his neck and hips. Steve tried to protect his neck from Eddie’s blunt fingernails, but he couldn’t move well enough with Eddie’s hold on his arms. 

“Your giggles are adorable Steve.” Robin laughed as she spidered her fingers behind her on Steve’s knees. 

“I-I’m sorry I lied!” Steve managed to get out. 

“I’m sure you are,” Robin grinned. “But this is punishment now!” 

“You’re a walking tickle spot, Steve. Where aren’t you ticklish?” Eddie asked, laughing. Eddie was spidering his own fingers along Steve’s shoulders and triceps, making Steve shake with the strength of him trying to free his arms from Eddie’s grips. 

Dustin laughed aloud when Robin found that sweet spot behind Steve’s knees that made Steve belly laugh. The sound of Dustin’s laughter had Steve turning his head towards his younger friend, as if just remembering he was there. 

“Duhuhustin lied firhirhirist! Get hihihim!” 

So much for Steve always having his back. 

“Henderson’s ticklish?” Eddie asked with absolute glee in his voice. 

“Yehehes!” Steve cackled as Robin went back to tickling his ribs. She was absolutely ruthless, not giving Steve a second of a break. She was vibrating her hands against his ribs, which were easily his second most ticklish spot--first being behind his knees. 

“Dude!” Dustin cried, hardly able to believe that Steve betrayed him like that, especially after he covered Steve’s ass not five minutes ago!

Eddie gave Dustin his most charming smile and raised his arms up in a hugging gesture. “Bring it in buddy.” 

“Fuck that!” Dustin responded as he took a few steps backwards. 

“This is gonna happen.” Eddie told him, a grin growing. “I am going to tickle the absolute shit outta you, Henderson.”

Dustin’s stomach flip-flopped at the thought. Eddie was easily one of the nicest guys Dustin has ever met. He truly cares about people and always puts others before himself. But Eddie also can do anything he puts his mind to, and not only complete his objective, but blow it out of the water. So, when Eddie says he’s going to tickle the shit outta someone, he’s going to do it. 

“E-Eddie…hey, remember that I saved your ass in the Upside Down!” Dustin pointed an accusatory finger at his friend. Steve’s laughter was still ringing around them and Dustin knew his own would soon be joining the older teen. 

“You did! And I’m oh so thankful for that,” Eddie replied, taking measured steps toward Dustin. “Let me repay you by making you happy.” 

“Ti--That isn’t going to make me happy!”

“Hehehe’s lying! He lohohoves ihihit--ROBIN PLEEHEEHEEASE!” Robin’s back was facing Steve now and she was clawing at the back of both of Steve’s knees now. 

“STEVE!” Dustin shouted at his friend. Eddie’s smile grew wider hearing Steve’s words. Dustin felt his face heat up immediately. Steve wasn’t exactly wrong, but still! He had pride, damnit!

“Dustin.” Eddie called. 

“What?”

Eddie grinned. “Run.” 

Dustin didn’t get two feet before tripping. 

“Eddie please! Don’t do this, don’t! DohohoHOHON’T!” Dustin was in ticklish hell. Eddie’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once. 

“Gotta find out your worst spot Henderson! C’mon, is it here?” Eddie clawed at his stomach, which made Dustin giggle like mad. 

“Oh, that’s a sweet little laugh ya got there Henderson. But I’m looking for that sweet spot. Is it here?” Eddie moved to Dustin’s ribs, which weren’t a hundred percent the most ticklish spot on his body, but it still tickled like hell, which made Dustin let out a deeper laugh. 

“Hmm, nope. Not the spot, but I feel like we’re gettin’ closer. What do you think, Dustin?” 

“I thihink you should stohop!” Dustin managed to reply. 

“Steve said you liked it.” Eddie replied with a shrug. “And Steve wouldn’t lie to me, would you Big Boy?” Eddie turned and gave Steve a lascivious wink. 

Robin had finally stopped tickling Steve, who was curled in a ball still giggling. Steve shakily raised his hand and flipped Steve off. 

“Not nice, Steve.” Robin said, tweaking Steve’s side. 

“Nohoho more…” Steve panted tiredly, pawing at Robin’s hands. 

“Okay, stomach and ribs are ticklish. What about under your arms?” Eddie asked. 

“NO!” Dustin shouted at the same time Steve shouted, “It’s his worst spot!” 

“Oh ho! Worst spot, huh?” 

Dustin slammed his arms down to his sides, twisting as Eddie continued tickling his stomach and ribs. Eddie was trying to get Dustin to move his arms, but Dustin was determined to protect his most ticklish spot. 

“Wanna help me?” Eddie asked Robin and Steve. 

“Sure!” Robin replied brightly, skipping towards Dustin. 

“Oh hell yes, I need some revenge.” Steve followed Robin. 

“Plehehease! Nohoho!” Dustin was really struggling now, but soon Robin had one arm and Steve grabbed his other, and Dustin’s arms were pulled above his head, leaving himself completely vulnerable. Eddie slowly moved his fingers up Dustin’s torso. 

“Any last words?” Eddie grinned. 

“You all suhuhuck!” Dustin whined. 

Steve barked a laugh out at that. “You’re doomed Henderson. What have we said about your tone?” 

Dustin couldn’t reply because at that moment, Eddie’s hands arrived at their destination and Dustin was lost to laughter. To make things worse, Robin and Steve were spidering their fingers around his neck and the tops of his ribs. Dustin laughed hard, loving the tickling and hating it at the same time. Loving it because…well, he just liked it; it made him feel happy and loved. Hating it though because it was just so much! He’d never been tickled like this before. Sure, he and the gang had tickle fights before. He and Will had been the targets more often than not, but it never lasted for more than like, 30 seconds for Dustin because Will had the shrillest laugh and ended up the main target. 

“Man this must tickle a lot.” Steve said, grinning down at Dustin. Dustin wanted to flip him off, but he couldn’t do anything more than laugh. Eddie was making circles under his arms, Robin was raking her hand up and down the left side of his ribs, and Steve was scrabbling fingers all over his neck and shoulders. 

“Told ya it was gonna happen Dustin.” 

“He’s pretty cute, all giggly like this. Makes me wish I had a younger brother or something instead of being an only child.” Robin replied. 

“Pleeheeheease!” Dustin begged. 

The three older teens stayed like that for close to five minutes straight, simply tickling Dustin nonstop. Eddie was still going to town under his arms and found a particularly ticklish spot right where his underarm met his sides on each side of his torso. Steve had managed to start tickling the top portion of his back, making Dustin squeal childishly. And Robin continued tickling his ribs, vibrating her hands every so often to get the giggles going. 

“I gihihive!” Dustin pleaded. Because it was a plea, it was a surrender. “I GIHIHIVE!” 

Steve, Eddie, and Robin finally slowed to a stop. Eddie and Steve ruffled Dustin’s curly mop before standing and grinning down at the mess that was Dustin Henderson. 

“You really are cute, Dustin,” Robin said, offering him a hand up. “We’ll have to do this again.” 

Dustin accepted the hand, but kept his other arm around his middle. “Please…don’t.” 

Dustin was grabbed in a headlock by Steve and given a noogie.

Dustin squawked. “Off the hair man! And what happened to having my back?”

Steve grinned and shrugged. “Sorry man, all's fair in war and tickle fights.” 

Eddie snorted. “That was a tickle takedown Harrington, you got wrecked.” 

Steve blushed furiously and pushed at Eddie’s shoulder. Robin giggled. 

“My sides hurt.” Dustin whined. 

“Don’t worry Henderson, we’ll get our revenge.” 

Robin looked scared, while Eddie snorted once more, turning to walk away. “Good luck assholes, I’m not tickl-ISH!” 

Eddie turned furiously around and looked at Steve, who had just stuck her fingers into Eddie’s sides. 

“Sure you’re not, pretty boy.” Steve smirked. “C’mon, let’s book it outta here and see a REAL movie, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off!”

Eddie blushed from his neck to his hairline. 

Dustin gave him the ‘I’m watching you’ signal. 

Robin nodded enthusiastically and her and Steve walked to his car with Eddie and Dustin following. 

“I’m a goner, aren’t I?” Eddie asked casually. 

“Totally gonna die, dude.” Dustin agreed. “Sorry.” 

And after the movie, when they were hanging out at Steve’s house and Steve got his hands on Eddie’s ticklish thighs, Eddie was indeed a goner. 

#tickling #ticklish!steve harrington #ticklish!dustin #stranger things fic #stranger things s4 #Lying to Robin isn’t Good for One’s Health #submission #not mine #but tagging it as #n writes #to keep it in the tag if people ever go through it #kourtni

[robingurlscorner]

Ma Parker

I started thinking... if Robin somehow got out with a cold and a fever and Batman didn't notice.. she'd let him have it. After all, she's a mom at heart, right?

He found himself coming to at something sharp being pushed into his arm. He tried to sit up but as soon as he did he fell backwards into whatever he was laying on. He felt light headed and weak. “B-Batman?”

In his field of vision appeared an older lady, “Ah no, Boy Wonder, sorry, you are with us.”

He blinked and tried to sit up again, “Ma Parker!”

The lady laughed again but then her expressions turned into concern, “That is right, my boy, but you see you took quite the spill. I was serious when I was worried about your health and here I am correct.”

“Ma, here are the compresses you asked us to get.” Leg’s responded handing the clothes and the bowl of water to her mother. She smiled at Robin, “You sure are lucky Ma found you…you would have frozen outside..”

“B-But I-I’m …I-I …” Robin stammered confused. He leaned forward feeling dizzier than before and held his face in his gloved hands. “Where’s Batman?”

“It’s funny you should mention him, I was about to call Gordon myself, after all you poor poor boy, being forced to run around, its not good for you…here now you just lie back and rest and I will get a hold of Batman for you.”

Robin lie back still confused but felt too sick to care. He just wanted out of here and wanted his mentor. He jumped slightly as he felt one of the compresses be placed on his forehead. He looked around the room feeling the world start turning too quickly making him dizzy. He started to drift off to sleep.

*~*

“Where is he Ma Parker? If you harmed a hair on his head -!” Batman threatened as he burst through the door.

“Now Batman, I maybe a crook but I’m a mother at heart. I saved his life.” She argued leading him in, “Right this way. He’s not doing so well, his fever has risen in the past hour or so.”

The Caped Crusador followed her, his heart pounding. What had they done to Robin? He hadn’t been able to reach the boy at all on his communicator and had been actually relieved to get the phone call from Ma Parker about his wear abouts. “Fever?”

“Yes, Batman, I think he’s got a bout of the flu, the poor boy.” She opened a door one of the bedrooms and walked in. “Robin, you’ve got a visitor..”

Robin was lying on the bed surrounded by pillows and covered up by a few quilts. His face was pale, eyes closed, hair matted. He did look quite ill. “R-Robin?! C-Chum!?” Batman called walking closer and sitting on the chair by the bed. “Great scot, what happened?”

“He’s just a boy, Batman. All of that running around isn’t good for his age. Maybe it finally caught up with him?” She pondered aloud watching Batman stew it all over. “He’ll be alright, Batman.”

Batman only reached forward and placed a gloved hand on Robin’s forehead, “Chum? Can you hear me?”

Robin’s eyes opened slowly but remained heavily lidded, “B-Batman?” His voice was hoarse and tired.

“Easy, lad, I’m here. Ma Parker says you’ve fallen ill.” Batman tried to smile to reassure the young teen that everything was alright but he couldn’t completely do it. He hadn’t seen Robin this ill before and it scared him.

“Before you ask, Batman, you can take him home, the poor boy, I will let you escape without chasing after you.”

“That’s surprisingly kind of you.” Batman said dryly but stood up and gathered the small feverish body into his arms. He held Robin close as the Boy Wonder shivered from his fever and with the blankets no longer there to keep him warm.

Unseen by either of them, Ma Parker just smirked. Her plan was going better than ever. “Here take one of the quilts. It’s hand made and will keep him warm.” She offered.

Batman shook his head and pulled out a bat blanket from his utility belt wrapping it around Robin’s shaking frame, “No offense Ma Parker but I’ve got a blanket.”

She forced herself to smile kindly as she nodded, “As long as he’s warm.”

The Caped Crusader then walked past her, careful to not jolt Robin to much and made his way to the Batmobile. Something just wasn’t right with howfast  Robin had fallen to this illness, it was almost as if he had been poisoned somehow…Robin moaned in his arms causing him to jolt back to the task at hand he quickened his pace getting Robin to the Batmobile and laying him down in the passenger seat. “Just rest, I’ll get you back to the batcave, I promise.”

#1966 batman #my writing #ro

[soulmate-game]

Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.”

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #soulmate-game #bio!dad au #bio!mom harley quinn #bio!dad joker #maribat fanfic #maribat fic #platonic Harley x Marinette #platonic Ivy x Marinette #platonic brucinette

[pandoraimperatrix]

Cockblocked by Batman’s son

BatCat | Humour/Romance | 1,4k

The fucker was on her for a while, and as much as their cat and bat game was fun, it was beginning to get in the middle of her business. There was this tiny small Brazilian island with her name on it, and unfortunately it was hard to steal whole islands than jewellery, so, of course, to steal some of the latter to get her island. She was calling it her retirement plan.

She was so close to her goal 12 million goal, only 10k to go, the job had been a god send, a rich collector had just acquired an Edwardian aquamarine and diamond brooch that have been on her client’s list for ages, thank goodness it was not her style at all, so she wouldn’t be tempted. It was easy enough, the security system was not what she expected from her research, but it had been fun to crack it, it was good to be surprised sometimes, she thought, kept her on her toes.

Her prize was already safely inside her bag, and Selina was ready to leave, when he appeared dark and broody, cape flowing behind him like a vampire on a silent era movie.

“Put it back.”

“Oh for Bastet’s sake!”

She ran, he went after her, and to be fair she was having fun taunting him, but there was something odd about that night, usually he gave her a little more of work, he seemed to be lagging. She even looked behind a few times to see if he was still following her, because there was nights in which would just leave to take care of an actual life threating crime. Selina thought that was the case and stopped to look, as much as the danger of him actually catching her and taking her prize back was not null, it almost felt like a let down when he’d just leave like that without a proper goodbye. He had no manners! Have no one taught him how to treat a lady?

Not that she was one.

She turned away and head back small rooftop apartment on East End, she had just entered her home, and pulled the cowl off her head when she felt a massive weight smash against her back throwing her on the floor. Fear struck her even harder, had the celling just fallen? She screamed for her cats to find safety before she managed to wiggle her body around enough to get an idea of the situation.

“What the actual fuck!”

The celling was intact and what was currently pressing her to the floor was the wall of meat known as the Batman.

“Put… it back.”

And then his eyes closed. She had never been close enough to notice before, but they were blue.

Read on AO3

It was embarrassing. She was tied up to a bomb. Heist gone wrong, well, it was good that he appeared since it was his fault that there was a heist at all. After leaving her flat while she napped after playing his personal Florence Nightingale all night, he repaid her by stealing her brooch!

Can you believe it?

The ingratitude?

The disrespect?

It was entirely his fault that she was obligated to break into that stupid warehouse to steal her new mark – an art deco diamond bracelet with an asscher cut, totally her style, she was already planning how to get it back, for free, of course. It was not her fault that the intel that got forgot to inform her that it was the same warehouse that had been used by Don Malone to hide drugs. And that when she broke in the place was no empty and Malone’s goons thought she was working for Falcone. Of course, no one believed her when she told them that she didn’t have anything to do with that.

You know, that’s why Selina had no trouble lying, because the truth hardly matters when someone wants to fuck you up, they will just do it for good measure, for fun, because sometimes you bloody deserve it for being the fool that nursed the fucking Batman back to health and were robbed by him.

But then, just as was she was about to accept that was how she’d meet her maker, a little leprechaun fell from the roof and said in a squeaky voice that she’d be okay.

“Geez, freaks are getting younger every day!”

Until Batman appeared and started defusing the bomb she thought she had already died and was having a very weird afterlife.

“He’s not a freak.”

“Oh… he’s with you!”

Maybe she was having a very weird afterlife. But why the hell her afterlife included the fucking Batman?

“He’s my… hmm… son.”

Wait, that was too weird for an afterlife.

“Your son? And his mother is okay with that? Jesus, isn’t he afraid of falling down?”

The boy had limbed a rope hanging from the roof and was hanging upside down by his pixie booted feet.

“He doesn’t have a mother,” Batman muttered as he still worked on her bomb, well, not hers. She owned no bombs, your honour. He was awfully talkative that night, that Batman. “Robin, behave!”

Oh my god, he was the leprechaun’s father! The information was just too good and at the same time she had no idea of what to do with it. It was the kind of prize she’d keep for herself.

“I’m behaving!” the high pitched boyish voice shouted back, but he did a flip and landed on the floor. She could say she was impressed. How old was that kid? Less than ten, she’d bet.

“Poor kitten, is she…”

“She died” he said so devoid of feeling that she raised an eyebrow. Of course Batman tended to be stoic, but, that was cold even for him.

“I’m sorry for your lost” she tried lamely.

He sighed. Batman actually sighed. What the hell was happening?

“I didn’t know her. He’s adopted.”

That night was one shocking revelation after another, wasn’t it?

“So… There isn’t a Mrs. Batman, then?”

What kind of lame line was that? Urgh. But was he… Nah. She was imagining it. He had not, in fact, sniffed her neck.

Of course, she couldn’t see, he was behind her, and although she could see Robin at the entrance very well because the light coming from outside reflected his little yellow cape as he amused himself by doing what looked like very dangerous acrobatics, where she was sitting, tied to a chair that was chained to a bomb, was completely dark. She could only hope he was really some sort of vampiric meta that could see in the dark otherwise letting him disarm the bomb was not the best of her decisions.

“It’s done.”

He released her. Selina rotated her wrists and stood up, relieved.

“Robin, let’s go!”

She watched as the boy let out a happy yelp and ran ahead, they could use that one as a limitless energy source and end climate change.

“Wait” she said walking around the chair to meet him in the dark “let me say thank you first, you just saved my life.”

“There’s no n-“

He couldn’t end the sentence when Selina blindly pressed her lips against his.

She meant to be a small playful peck, but Batman’s gloved hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her close and before she could think clearly about what she was doing, her arms were around his neck, hoisting her body up to fix their huge height difference issue. He parted her lips and slid his hot tongue against the roof of her mouth, the hard pointy part of his mask that protected his nose biting into her cheek.

“Ewww,” they broke the kiss to look at Robin’s small face wrinkled with disgust, but still remained in each other’s arms for a moment. And then, slowly, they turned their faces back forward.

Selina swallowed down, she still could taste him. And he was not letting her go, she had to be the one to pull her arms back, her hells touching the floor again.

She never thought she’d ever see Batman acting awkward but there was no other word to describe the way he grunted and stepped back before nodding to her and left, taking his little killjoy with him.

She stood there for a while.

She almost died.

She kissed the Batman.

Was cockblocked by Batman’s son.

Batman’s son??

What the fuck!

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

The rain made the power go out and I was looking through my WIPs. I really don’t remember writing this story lmao. But now It is finished and you can read it!

Please tell me what you think of it.

Kisses, see ya.

#batcat #brulina #baby batcat #gotham #selina kyle #bruce wayne #catwoman #batman #my fic #dick grayson #robin

[crashing-comets]

A little event.

This something that just hit me and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

The Straw Hats were docked on a nearby island for restocking the fridge because of Luffy’s midnight snacking. Sanji and Nami were walking back to the ship when they saw Luffy talking to someone, then hugged him. They walked to him and saw that he was talking to the Captain of the Red-Haired pirates, Shanks. Once Luffy saw them, he called out to them. 

“Hey, Guys!” Luffy jumped up and waved above the crowd. Sanji and Nami walked over to them and glared at Luffy. 

“Luffy, weren’t you supposed to be with Usopp?” Nami ignored Shanks, who laughed and patted Luffy’s head. 

“Sorry about that, young lady. I distracted him.” 

“Shanks, this is Nami, my navigator, and Sanji, my cook,” Luffy said proudly. 

“Wow, Anchor, you're picking people left and right.” Shanks grinned down at him. The crowd around them gasped and looked at the forest at the edge of town. A giant plant was roaring up at the sky then attacking something at its roots. 

“Isn’t that one of Usopp’s plants?” Sanji asked, looking at Nami and Luffy, who share confused faces and Shanks pulled one of his men out of the bar they were staying at. Luffy started to run towards the plants with Sanji and Shanks, and a couple of his crew behind him.

“Nami! Go grab the rest of the crew and tell them to meet there.” Luffy yelled behind him and pointed to the giant plant that roared again. Nami nodded and started running towards the dock where the Sunny was docked. Shanks caught up to Luffy and Sanji and asked who Usopp was. “That’s my sniper. He's supposed to be with Franky." 

"They're not one to get lost like that moss head," Sanji grunted as he hopped over a big log. Shanks and his crew followed behind in shock of seeing Luffy again, but Luffy was more concerned with the health of his crew at the moment. 

"Luffy!" Someone yelled behind him and sped up to catch up with him. "What's going on?" It was Yasopp, he had his rifle leaning on his shoulder, and it bounced with every movement. Yasopp looked at Luffy with concern and confusion, and then Shanks came to Luffy's other side.

"Someone is in trouble on Luffy's crew, and we are going to help them." Yasopp retreated behind his captain, and Shanks gave Luffy a look. The group continues running through the forest until they ran into the base of the plant. A dark laugh rang through the area.

“Oh, I see that the plan is working. Welcome Straw hat.” A man was standing in front of someone who had a hook around Usopp’s neck and a gun pointing at Franky, who was lying on the ground. The man was big and had a black beard that fell in front of his face, and dark clothes covered his dark skin. He had a big pirate hat that coated the top half of his face. The man behind him was shorter and thinner, with pale-colored clothes and short brown hair. The hook was nicked on a small amount of skin on Usopp’s neck, and blood dripped down with any slight movement. 

“Usopp! Franky!” Luffy tightened his fist at the sight of his crew. The frontman laughed and then huffed in Shanks’ direction.

“What can I help you with, emperor?” His voice was full of sarcasm and annoyance. 

“What is going on here?” Shanks’ voice was deep with anger, and he steps forward to stand next to Luffy. 

“Ha, well, my captain wants a little revenge on this straw hat boy, and this was the only idea I could come up with to get him to come willingly.” 

“Who said I was coming willingly?” Luffy yelled, trying to control his anger. The man let out another jolly laugh.

“Well, seeing that my friend over there.” He jabbed his thumb towards the three behind him.”Has your friend been in a situation? I think that you might want to do what we say.” The hook jerked towards its owner, and Usopp let out a hiss, tightening the grip he had on the man’s arm. The man then pulled the safety off the gun that was pointing at Franky’s head. Shanks glared at the man before noticing the state of the Straw hats’ snipper and shipwright. They were beaten and looked like they could have been hours ago. This situation wasn’t good, and they would need a doctor quickly. A gunshot brought Shanks out of his train of thought, and it came from behind him. Yasopp, his snipper, had his gun pointed towards the man who was holding Usopp. Smoke was rising from the barrel, and he held a slight frown on his features. Usopp and the man fell to the ground. 

“Don’t touch my son.” He stated, he then turned the barrel towards the other enemy, who looked panicked at his now dead friend and the barrel that was now inches from his face. “ Give me a reason not to fire this.” Everyone was shocked, and then they heard Franky’s frantic voice calling for Usopp. Luffy and Sanji jumped into action and ran to the pair. Usopp had lost consciousness and was bleeding faster from his neck. 

“We need to get back to the Sunny,” Sanji said, moving Usopp onto his back with Franky’s help. Luffy stared at Usopp with his eyes full of fear and followed soon after. Shanks grabbed Yasopp’s shoulder and pulled him away from the man. The rest of Shanks’ crew pulled the man into chains and moved him away from Yasopp and Shanks. 

“Let’s go with them,” Shanks yelled orders to the rest of the crew, and Yasopp and Shanks ran off towards the Sunny.  At the Sunny, Chopper and Robin were treating Usopp in the infirmary while the rest of the crew plus a few others were waiting on the deck. Shanks sat next to Luffy and watched Yasopp pacing the deck with his hand on his chin, mumbling to himself. After about an hour of waiting, Chopper and Robin came out with small smiles. 

“They should be fine. Nothing too serious.” Chopper said, and the group let out a breath. 

“What about the wound on Usopp’s neck? Is it infected? Is it bad?” Yasopp said, stopping his pacing from staring down at the small doctor. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say anything about that without Usopp’s permission.” Chopper pulled his hoves closer to his body with nervousness. 

“But, I am his father!” Yasopp stated as if it was apparent. Everyone looked at Yasopp in shock. Shanks could sense where this was going and stood up.

“Yasopp, take a walk.” 

“What! That is my son in there who is hurt, and you want me to walk away?” Yasopp stomped his boot on the floor and pointed to the door.

“No, you know what I mean. You need to calm down. If you go in there with that level of anger, then it’s not going to be pretty for anyone.” Yasopp grumbled but walked off the ship and towards town. Shanks sighed and patted Luffy’s head. “Tell me when they wake, and we can celebrate. We are on the other side of the island.” Shanks waved to the rest of the crew and followed Yasopp’s path. 

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #sanji #god usopp #franky #tony tony chopper #robin #one piece shanks #yasopp #redhaired pirates #injures

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 17 (Jason Todd x Reader)

JAY IS BACK MOTHERFUCKERS

WORDS: 6706 WARNINGS: A BIT OF VIOLENCE. JASON BEING AN ASSHOLE.

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

“Just coffee. For two.”

The waitress nodded. “Anything else?”

“No.”

She left. Five minutes later she brought in two mugs and poured in your drinks.

You warmed your chilled palms onto the ceramic. You somehow felt cold. Even when it was ninety degrees out. Especially your hands. You blew into your mug and took a sip. Just to warm up the itch in your throat.

Three weeks ago, Dick gave you that first call. You asked what it was about. He said he needed to talk to you in person. When he showed up to your house, he had a sling in his arm from a gunshot wound.

You thought he didn’t need to explain where he got it from. You knew who he was, as well as Bruce. But then he told you that it wasn’t from Penguin or Riddler or even a common thug. That it came from a new enemy going after Batman.

Still a bit confused why he came all the way to your place just to tell you that, he started bringing in a few documents.

First, he showed you pictures of Jason’s grave with a massive hole where his body was supposed to be. You remembered sweating your hair out at the horrible sight, the chills that ran down your back. It wasn’t from grave diggers. No. It was from someone climbing out from 6 feet under the soil.

Then, he showed you DNA test results.

Jason’s DNA, taken from when he was still alive, and a DNA sample from the Red Hood’s blood they had taken from one of their encounters. It was a match.

You demanded to know what was going on. Because whatever Dick was trying to tell you, none of it made even the slightest bit of sense. Dick wished he could explain more, but even he didn’t know the full story.

You couldn’t sleep that night, and barely the next night.

But then the week after that, Bruce invited you over to the mansion to talk. Dick picked you up, and at the dinner table, you, including Alfred, had a long, difficult talk about how he’d confirmed that Jason Todd, officially pronounced dead three years ago April 27, had been brought back to life by some unknown force, took the mantle of the Red Hood.

With you in the brink of tears, Bruce told you they were still trying trace where he came from, studied his techniques that Bruce was sure Jason didn’t know until now. So far, they found out that the Red Hood had been going around the state before he came to Gotham, formed his own crime ring and has taken over the empires of almost ten different drug lords. He was wanted in over six sectors, has left bodies left and right.

And now, he’s challenging Batman with his new style of vigilantism, which included cold-blooded murder. Every time Bruce, Dick, and the new Robin, Tim Drake, come across the Red Hood, they barely come out of it alive. He really wanted them dead.

And he was good at his job, as well. He’s done more good for the people than anything else. But he was also taking the lives of so many, Bruce wanted to put a stop to it.

You asked to be left alone for a while. For days, you didn’t talk to anyone. You stared at the rooftops. You looked at Jason’s old photos, compared them with the Red Hood’s new photos. You tried with everything you could to understand that the man you still loved even after three years of his death was now back, alive, risen from the dead as if that wasn’t actually insane. You mourned for him for so long. You still did. And what was that going to amount to now? You knew he was involved so many things you never could understand. But this? This defiance of the laws of nature?

You barely slept a wink.

Two days ago, Dick told you they needed your help.

You didn’t want to be involved, and you told him that. You weren’t even sure you wanted to see him like this. If this was even the same Jason before his death.

Dick told you that somehow, you could be of help. You could talk to him. Level him back down and give him the peace he needed to stop all the killings. You weren’t sure if that would work, and if anything, it was risking your life. You had no idea what Jason was capable of now. He could kill you. He could be heartless like that. And he was, from the way he was acting now. It wouldn’t be of any surprise.

But Dick and Bruce, they were running out of options. And even without Bruce outrightly admitting it, they wanted Jason back in the family. They missed him, too. It wasn’t just you.

As if the three years of grief weren’t enough. If any part of him was the same Jason you fell in love with, and still love now, this was the thing of your most impossible dreams, that your dead boyfriend had miraculously come back. It was insane. But you knew, with all your heart, you desperately wanted him back.

But you needed the help. Bruce offered to pay for therapy if that was what you needed, to get your head straight, figure things out before you ultimately decide what to do. Eventually, you agreed.

And now, here you were.

You took another sip from your cup, then Dick came up from behind you.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You stood up to give him a little hug. His hand patting your back, he sat across from you.

“For you.”

“Thank you.” He took the coffee mug. “You’re looking a lot better.”

You held your drink with both hands. “Thanks.”

“If you’re not comfortable in any way, I completely understand.”

You tried to hold back your shaking arms. You didn’t want him to see just how much this all scared you.

“What brought him back?”

“Ra’s al Ghul. The Lazarus pit. At least, that was after he was already resurrected. The pit just fixed his body and made him stronger.”

“Lazarus pit?”

“It’s uh,” he stuttered. “Ra’s has this League of Assassins with his daughter, Talia. And they own all these Lazarus Pits. It’s a sort of a Fountain of Youth. He bathes in it, and it makes him live for six hundred years. It also heals your body from just about any injury.

“They must have found Jason, bathed him in the pit, then nursed him back to health in an attempt to create this someone to go against Bruce.”

This was far, far beyond what you could have possibly imagined. Some sort of the supernatural had always been real. Magic. Aliens. The Justice League. But now that you were involved? This was too much.

But with Jason… your sweet, loving Jason… You’ll do anything.

“You think he’s heartless enough to try to kill me?” you asked.

Dick drank from his coffee mug, set it down, then swallowed.

“I never got to tell you, didn’t I?”

“What?”

Dick bit his lips. “Jason’s not gonna hurt you. I’m sure of it. I wouldn’t have called if it had put you in any kind of danger at all.”

“How are you so sure?”

He looked out the window, at a rooftop from an apartment building nearby. You breathed into your mug.

“About a week ago, I put a tracker on him without him knowing. Then one day I followed him, just to see what he was up to…”

He held his cup.

“He was waiting for you outside your university. And when you got out, he followed you all the way to your house. He’s been at it almost every single day.”

You caught your breath in your throat and watched Dick with your lips starting to shake.

“And it isn’t just that. He does everything to make sure you don’t get hurt. When you go out at night, he’s still watching you. As the Red Hood. One time before you were about to cross an alleyway where thugs were waiting to rob you, he beat the living shit out of them before you even noticed.”

You gulped down, then you drank even more of your coffee just to ease your nerves. You shifted in your seat, then cleared your scratchy throat.

“How long has he been at this?”

“I’m guessing since he first came to Gotham. A month ago.”

The coffee suddenly didn’t taste so calming anymore. “God… I… This is still so much to process…”

“I know.”

“He isn’t going to show himself to me willingly, is he?”

“I don’t think he will. He makes sure you never see him.”

You closed your eyes.

“That’s why I called you. If you got to talk to him, maybe you can get him to listen.”

He loves you. He still does. And he was a broken soul, protecting you when no one was there to protect him. He needed you.

It was that one, single push you needed.

“I want to do it.”

Dick held your wrist and squeezed it tightly. “Don’t worry. If anything goes wrong, Bruce, Tim, and I will be there.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid of,” you said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after this.”

Not a clue. Not a single premonition.

“Honestly, me neither.” He finished his coffee. “But it’s worth a try.”

-----

One. Two. Three.

Those fools had it coming.

Barely a word out of his mouth gushing with blood. The Red Hood held his neck, stuck him up against the truck’s container, then pushed his revolver right under his chin.

“When’s Black Mask’s next shipment?!”

“I don’t fucking know!”

He clicked his gun. “I think you do.”

His filtered voice made everything a lot worse. The driver of a weapons cache truck he caught was trembling off his ass. His two other co-workers were lying dead on the ground. And when Red Hood squeezed his neck further, he gasped for air.

“Tomorrow! At the docks!”

He slammed the butt of his gun right to his face. He fell to the ground, unconscious. And just because he had one bullet left to waste, the Red Hood shot his shoulder.

He jumped out the vehicle and stretched out his neck, closing the truck door while the driver continued to scream in pain. The police should be here soon. He’ll have to get out of there.

“Hey there, bud.”

“Fucking shit-“

The Red Hood, in just one swift move, reloaded his gun and aimed right at the top of the truck, at the black and blue figure crouched over staring at him.

“Get out of here.”

“I just want to talk, Jay.”

He wanted to shoot Nightwing’s smug little smirk right off his face. “I mean it.”

“I won't-“

Red Hood fired at the truck’s metal just an inch away from Nightwing’s leg.

“I won't miss next time.”

“Just listen to me-“

“Fine. You wanna play that game, Grayson?”

He took his other gun strapped from his hip. Nightwing jumped off the truck before he started firing at his face.

Dodging the bullets, he started leaping circles around him, getting closer to where he was standing. Red Hood stopped firing, threw his guns to the ground, then charged for Nightwing’s leg just as he got close enough.

His larger figure stopped himself from tumbling to the ground when Nightwing landed a kick to his helmet. He growled, waited for him to pounce again, then Red Hood ducked under his leg, shot up quickly enough to land his powerful fist right against his chest.

Nightwing was down. He rolled to the floor, but resisted pulling out his escrima sticks. He wasn’t here to beat him down. But obviously, Red Hood wasn’t here to talk, either.

He ducked and blocked Red Hood’s succeeding hits, almost rolling around the empty road. He kicked him in the stomach, then Red Hood headbutted him with his much stronger helmet.

“Jason!” Nightwing blocked him with his arm. “This is about Y/N!”

He stopped.

Then his helmet was about to melt at the immense heat his head was boiling to. “WHAT DID YOU SAY!?”

Nightwing leapt up to a pole. Red Hood grabbed his guns, reloaded them, then started firing.

“Stop it!”

“Fuck you!”

He kept firing at Nightwing’s body, backing off when he got too close. He was going to kill him. He wasn’t getting out of this alive. Not tonight. Mentioning your name like that, it’s going to cost him his life.

“She knows! About you!”

“You fucking ASSHOLE.”

More. More bullets. Nightwing went into one of the alleys and jumped up the fire exits. Red Hood kept firing, the bullets bouncing through the walls. He climbed up the escape and chased after him.

“HOW THE FUCK DID SHE KNOW?”

“I told her!”

“oh, you’re dead, Grayson.”

They reached the rooftop, and Nightwing ran all the way to the other side of the ledge. Red Hood sprinted after him, opening fire. He didn’t care where they landed. He wanted his body to put into the shock in the middle of jumping to another rooftop and fall to his death.

“She wants to talk to you!”

“NOT A FUCKING CHANCE.”

“Don’t you think she deserves to know what happened-“

“LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS, DICK.”

He made sure you never saw him alive. You thought he was dead. He was going to keep it that way.

Then he ran out of bullets, cursing beneath his breath, Red Hood threw his guns to the floor and chased him down.

When he caught him, he pinned him to the ground, grabbing him by his neck. “Jay-“

“I’m going to kill you. Right now. You think I’ll hesitate?”

“Do you really want to break her heart again, asshole?”

“You fucking-“ Red Hood punched him in the face. Then Nightwing folded his legs up, pushed him with the heels of his feet, landing him on the ground. He placed his arm right against his neck.

“You of all people can't lecture me on breaking hearts, you jackass.”

Red Hood punched him again, then got off the floor. Nightwing finally pulled out his escrima sticks, and Jason pulled out the last of his guns from his holsters and aimed it at Nightwing’s head.

They paused, stared each other down with their weapons in hand a yard’s distance away.

“Just… talk to her.”

“I can't believe you pulled her into this-“

“This isn’t about our little game. This is about you, Jay. And you need our help-“

He laughed. “Since when did I ask for your fucking help?”

“Since you killed almost a hundred people in Gotham in the last month-“

“Those aren’t just people, you idiot. They’re Joker’s men. Penguin’s. Two Face’s. They all deserve to die.”

Nightwing tightened his grip on his sticks. “Then just talk to her. She deserves that. You of all people should know just how hurt she is.”

He clicked his gun. “Mention her again, and I’ll blow your brains out.”

“She’s waiting for you at the plaza. Behind the cathedral. It’ll just be you and her. Just let her talk to you-“

Just one pull of a trigger. And this son of a bitch dies for ever even speaking to you. He’ll fucking keep his word.

“You think I don’t know this is a trap? What, you, Bruce, and that fucking replacement will be waiting to ambush me in the dark?”

“Not this time. You have to believe me.”

He scoffed. “What are you trying to do? Change all this?”

“Trust me, I get it. You have no intention in mending anything with Bruce. But if you don’t show up, it’ll devastate her.”

“She’ll be fine. Trust me. She dealt with worse.”

“And you really want to subject her into that again?”

Deep, slow breaths. He lightly pulled the trigger, but Nightwing just skidded to the side and dodged him.

They heard something. Coming from below. Police sirens cleaning up the weapons truck.

Staring each other down, Nightwing and Red Hood slowly backed off. He hated him. All of them. His fucking family that never once cared for his ass, or felt any type of remorse for not being able to save him. The family that never thought to avenge him, set their morals aside to do what’s actually right. They look down on what he does, and yet, he’s done more to control Gotham’s crime than Bruce ever had in his lifetime.

Red Hood set his gun down, then they both sprinted to opposite ends of the rooftops.

He was going to clean up their mess. Again.

-----

It ends tonight.

Everything. Your story. Your mourning. Your commitment to your dead, beloved high school boyfriend. Your unhealthy attachment to what could have been. Your reluctance to move on.

You realized, it all ends tonight.

No matter what happens, no matter how this all ends, everything was going to change.

If he doesn’t show up, it’ll pave the way for you to move forward, knowing that Jason, given the chance that seemed entirely impossible just a few weeks ago, had no intention of even speaking to you, let alone change for his own betterment. It should tell you to let him go, despite you not wanting to. It’ll tear your heart into shreds, more than it already was, but if he was alive, and he still wanted nothing to do with you…

You just hoped that won't be the case. You still loved him. Endlessly.

And if he does show up, it could only end as well as you being able to convince him to stop with the killings, be his better self, be the Jason you knew he still was, and it’ll go on from there. The miraculous dream you never thought to be true. Your loyalty to him, rewarded. And no longer will this life go on as if you were merely running in a slow, painful treadmill with no actual direction, other than to keep the promises Jason asked of you. You’ll have him back. As crazy as it still is, you’ll actually have him back.

But that was the most wishful thinking you could do. It’ll almost never end that way.

But, no matter the outcome, if he changes or not, you’ll finally come to the end of you dreaming about the past. You’ll know he was here. Alive.

That alone fixed some parts of your broken self.

So you got out of your car, walked out into the plaza where you told Dick you’ll be waiting. Behind the Cathedral. Where there was no one around but trees and bushes. The next walkway was yards away, and there were almost no lampposts nearby. If what Dick said was true, and Jason would never try to hurt you, you’ll still be safe.

You leaned against the wall, looked around at the vines eating up an old, wooden bench.

And you breathed. Long deep breaths.

You were going to see him. Finally.

Maybe your attachment to him was made for this. Because somehow, deep within you, you knew it wasn’t over. You knew he wasn’t completely gone. As hopeful as it was, it somehow came true.

Deep. Slow. Breaths.

An hour. Maybe an hour and a half. You waited.

You were going to have to be as patient as you could be.

What were you gonna say to him?

A lot of things. Punch him in the face. Scream at him for ever leaving you like that. Yell at him for idiotically going after the Joker by himself. Hug him. Kiss him.

Your mind was boggling. This was never what you signed up for.

But it was everything you could have hoped for.

You’re seeing him again. Jason. Your love. Your first, and still love. Oh, how your heart warmed. You wanted his arms back. You wanted his lips back. You wanted-

Thud.

A noise.

Coming from the roof.

You stepped out from leaning against the wall. Nothing. Nothing above you.

Another thud. On the grass.

You looked around.

Your heart was thrashing hysterically in your ribcage.

“Jason?”

You walked to the other side of the cathedral’s backside. But there wasn’t so much as a squirrel around you.

Then.

Then.

You turned around.

There was a figure.

A large, dark figure, hiding in the shadows. By the trees. A few yards away from the building.

You narrowed your eyes, squinted to get a better look.

It was getting closer.

You wanted to back away, but you didn’t. You were too frozen too move.

When it passed by a single ray of light from a faraway post, you saw it was a man in a dark, hooded jacket. With what looked like armor on his chest.

He got closer. Closer. Close enough for you to see the red bat symbol on his chest.

You took a step back.

He was huge. So fucking huge. This couldn’t be him. Not by a mile.

You took another step back.

And when he got close enough so you could see the red helmet where his head was supposed to be, with white, glaring eyes looking back at you menacingly, you fumbled backing away until you ultimately hit the wall.

The Red Hood.

He walked to you until he was standing so close to your shivering body. You pressed yourself against the wall as much as you could. Your whole body thudding, your head swarming in panic. Your stomach was churching, much like it did when you were terrified beyond belief. You wanted to run away, but his helmet, his chilling red helmet, it stared you down so you couldn’t even move. An inch away from your body, the Red Hood growled.

“Stay… Away…”

You swallowed.

“Jason?”

“Don’t… Don’t even try.”

“You're…” you breathed out, your chest heaving. “You’re really alive…”

He just stared at you, not giving you any chance to move. You were stuck, pressed against the wall, as you stared at him in disbelief.

“How much do you know?”

You were stuttering. Your shaking mouth forced you to. You’ve never been so scared in your life. “A lot…”

The Red Hood slightly turned his head to the side.

You wanted to see him. Really see him. His face… without thinking, you reached up to his helmet.

He pushed your hands away, and you gulped, backing off.

“Whatever it is you're trying to do, stop it. It’s not going to work.”

“I just want to talk-“

“About what? What are you possibly hoping for?”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” you whispered. “Why didn’t you see me first? You have no idea-“

“You think you want to see this?”

He pointed at his chest. “This isn’t what you think it is. I’m not who you fucking think I am.”

Of course he isn’t. You didn’t expect him to.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this…”

“This isn’t what you want. Trust me. Far from it.”

Eyes stuck to his helmet, where his own eyes were supposed to be, you didn’t know what you wanted to say.

“I want to talk to you. I know about what you do… and I still do-“

“Forget about all this okay? As far as you know, I’m still dead.”

This time, as scared as you were, you wanted to punch him.

“Do- do you have any idea how much you hurt me?”

He didn’t answer.

“You fucking don’t.”

“I wouldn’t talk that way to someone with three guns on him.”

“Go ahead. Shoot me. Kill me. If you insist that’s what you are.”

You saw his shoulders rise, his breath deepened. You bit your lips, and you stepped closer to him. You craned your head up his much taller figure.

“What do you expect out of this?”

“I just want to talk…”

“About what?”

His filtered voice. There was barely anything of the Jason you knew. You couldn’t see his face. His whole body grew more than four sizes larger. You couldn’t hear his voice. It was so hard trying to be gentle to someone who just looked terrifying to look at.

“Stay away from me.”

“No,” you said. “Take that mask off and look at me.”

“Listen,” he walked towards you and pushed you against the wall. “I don’t know what you want. You want us to talk? And what do you want out of that? Something more?” he scoffed.

Your mouth turned dry. You wanted to kick him in the groin until he’ll barely be able to walk.

“You left me,” you whispered. “When you said you never would.”

“We broke up-“

“You. Left me.” you hissed. “You have no idea…”

He stopped, looking to the side at the wall behind you.

“You should’ve moved on-“

“Fuck you.”

Tears. Angry tears. They wanted to seep out. He stepped back. “If you know what’s good for you, forget about all this-“

“I can't believe this is how you are after you fucking died and left me to grieve you for three years-“

“Deal with it. I’m not who you fucking think I am.”

And, as it seems, you started to believe him.

This was a cold, heartless villain. The Red Hood. His helmet, his voice, his body. None of it was Jason anymore.

“I just want to talk… Please…”

He shook his head, not even giving you another glance. The Red Hood turned away from you and walked out into the trees until you couldn’t see him anymore.

You cried too much for him. Far too much.

So you didn’t this time. You let yourself slowly realize this was how things ended.

Your phone rang.

“Y/N?”

You breathed. “He won't talk to me…”

“It’s alright. We did what we could. I can come up there and-”

“Can I be alone? Please? I’m going home.”

“Of course. I’m really sorry…”

You hang up.

----

It felt like it was about to rain, even when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

You went up to your bed, folded your knees up your chest and stared blankly at the cold, empty floor. It was back. All over again. The same loss when they told you he died. That wasn’t Jason you talked to. Far from it.

There was no trace of his sweet, comforting voice, of his handsome face that lit up any room he was in. His arms, now twice as large as they used to be, they didn’t give off that soothing rush that calmed down all your nerves when he’d pull you into his chest. His voice, it was far from some fucking robotic filter that hurt your ears. You hated every part of it. You hated that helmet. You hated what he became.

Jason was still dead. He wasn’t coming back.

You hoped far too much of what was impossible to ask for. Because whatever that was, the Red Hood… You didn’t know what you were even expecting. That wasn’t your boyfriend. He couldn’t be.

You wanted to see the Jason who smiled bashfully when he saw you walk down the steps of your apartment, the one who stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyes glistening as he stared lovingly at you. You wanted the guy who wanted to see you every day of the week, miss you on the days when he wasn’t and push everything to the side just to spend every minute he had with you. The one so obsessed with you that he couldn’t possibly ask you to stay away, or ever make you feel like he didn’t want to see you at all. You didn’t like feeling so unwanted.

You hoped, with that tiny part of you that still had it, that he would have met you, looking exactly the same way he did before he died, and pull you into his arms. The dramatic part of you wanted to run to him, and he’d run to you, and you’d crash into an embrace for hours and hours until he’ll ultimately pull away to kiss you.

And instead, you got a red helmeted asshole who told you to stay the fuck away from him.

You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes.

That part of him should still be alive. A part of him should still be loving you as you knew he did. He followed you around, didn’t he? He protected you.

How could he… after all you went through just to hold on to him… this is how he treats you…

Thud.

You reached for your scissors you had stashed beside your bed. There was someone in your fire escape, standing like a brick wall.

A tall man, face hidden by the shadows of his red hoodie. He stared at you, but he wasn’t moving.

Your hands left your scissors.

You knew exactly who it was. You stepped off the bed.

Your heart was pounding so hard within your chest, you thought of running out of your room. But he didn’t look like how he did a while ago. His head was down, almost like he was looking at the ground.

You walked to your window and slid the glass open.

You still couldn’t see his face. The shadows were too dark.

All the emptiness, the darkness, all that consumed you, it was all finally starting to fade out. When you saw how he didn’t have any weapons on him, no armor, no helmet, this was what you thought to see.

You let out a broken, trembling breath as you climbed out into the fire escape, facing the man closer and closer. He slightly backed away, but his back hit the railing. You stood in front of him, frightened, but not enough to run away.

He flinched when he started for his hoodie, but you didn’t back off. Your nerves were on fire but you wanted to rid the shadows, finally see him as you never thought you ever could again after all those years.

Gulping, he leaned in.

You took off the hoodie.

The same black hair that fell down to his forehead, slight curls that tickled his skin. His jaw, angular and strong. His lips, chapped and scarred. His eyes, that deep, bright blue so beautiful that it tore through you and looked right into your soul. They looked through you so woefully, hurt, broken.

And scars. One that tore through his eyebrow, one on the corner of his lip, and one on his cheek.

You breathed, and a single tear fell down your face.

It was him.

Undeniably.

It was him.

It was Jason.

He’s here.

You clutched to his neck, both your arms pulling him so tightly to you that you swore you’ll never let go again. Oh, his warmth. His body. He was here. He was actually here. You stuck your face into his shoulder, holding onto him so hard that you’ll kill him if he even tried to move away.

Jason.

Jason.

Jason.

“Oh god…” you cried. “It’s you…”

And you could feel just how much he wanted to pull away. He was meaning to. But fuck him. You weren’t about to. His muscles tensed. His breath hitched. You could feel his chest stiffen-

Then,

You felt his incredibly strong arms around you.

And you sobbed. Silently. Not so much with tears but with your broken breaths, your shaking arms. He stuck his face into your hair and breathed in. Yes. This was Jason. This was definitely him.

You could hardly believe anyone could be risen from the dead. You saw him in his coffin. His lifeless body, white and cold. And he was here, back with the same exact warmth and life. He looked different, there was no denying that.

But the moment you looked into his eyes, you knew it was him.

“Jay…”

He tightened his hold on you.

“Y/N…”

And you cried even more. That voice. The same that said your name in the most beautiful way he possibly could in that voice message you listened to over and over again. He’s here. He’s really here.

Your hands on his face, you pulled away so you could look at him more.

And he looked like he was about to cry as well. The light from your room, it shone perfectly on his face. Every detail, you could revel in. His hands squeezed your shoulders and you pressed your forehead tightly against his.

You wanted to kiss him so badly…

He closed his eyes, but you didn’t. You kept looking at him, watching how his face moved.

Jason took your hands, gripped them tightly by the wrist,

Then pulled you away.

“Uhm,” he cleared his throat, taking his hands off from you and stuffing them back to his pockets. “I came to talk. Like you wanted…”

He looked to the ground. And reluctantly, you backed away.

You leaned against the railing beside him and crossed your arms.

“I don’t know where to start…”

Jason turned to you. “How are you?”

You had so many things to say. You could blurt out all your thoughts and you wouldn’t be able to stop. But you settled yourself, calmed your mind.

“I’m not so sure myself.”

“School?”

“Ending my third year. I went to arts college…”

“Yeah… I know. You like it?”

You nodded. “I do…”

You desperately wanted to hold him again, but you just kept to your shoulders lightly brushing.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Horrible. Thanks for asking.”

You shook your head. You wanted to chuckle, but you weren’t sure that’d be the best thing to do.

“Jay, what happened-“

“You really don’t want to know…”

“I deserve to know, don’t you think?”

Jason turned around, placed his hands on the railing and looked down onto the alley. You did the same, but your eyes were locked on him.

“Something happened. Some reality altering shindig in the cosmos. Ripples, as you might say. I’m not so sure myself. It caused a lot of weird shit to happen. Including me. I woke up in that coffin and climbed my way out.”

You swallowed.

“Somehow, the al Ghul’s found me and nursed me back to health. They put me in the Lazarus pit-you know what that is, don’t you?”

“I have an idea.”

“Anyway,” he continued. “They let me spend time in the League. Some sort of brainwash, but I got over it after a while. I went around different cities in Jersey, then I got to Gotham. You know the rest.”

You looked down at the empty alleyway with him. And you didn’t have much to say. You could tell he didn’t want to be consoled.

“Well, you certainly changed.”

He looked out into the rooftops. There wasn’t any wind, so nothing was blowing into his hair. You watched his face so raw, a matured version of what he once was. But it was still him.

“Aren’t you gonna ask what happened to me?”

His lips went through his teeth, gritting as his muscles tensed.

“I listen to your message. All the time.”

You didn’t think he’d be so shocked, but he was.

“It sent?”

“What do you think?”

Jason pursed his lips, shutting his eyes so he couldn’t look at you.

“I kept your promises…”

You held your hands together, and you stared at them. “I went to college for you. I changed. A lot. I’ve been singing for events around the city a lot.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I watched you a few times.”

You breathed out. Slowly.

“Not all of them, though.”

Jason looked at you, and you looked back at him.

“I couldn’t move on…”

“Fuck…” he cursed. “Y/N-“

“I can't.”

“It’s been three fucking years…”

Your heart just shattered at the way he as looking at you now.

“I haven’t even talked to another guy. Not one date. I wouldn’t let them. I told them…” You shouldn’t tell him, but you really wanted to. “I told them I was still with you-“

“Fucking hell.” He stuffed his face into his hands. “I can't believe you…”

You choked. “I lost you!”

“You should have let me go…”

“I can't!”

You held his shoulder, but he flinched away.

“Why…” you cried. “Why this? I’ve done nothing but mourn for you-“

“I wanted you to live your fucking life!”

You turned away, and Jason looked at the streets by the building, at the empty cars and leaves stuck on the road.

“I wanted you to move on…”

You never once thought you’d have this conversation. Not in your life. “I couldn’t think of it.”

Jason closed his eyes, and you hugged yourself despite the heat. Your throat wanted to climb out of your neck. And your uneasy breaths, it choked you.

Jason let out a strong breath and looked at you.

“You know what I didn’t tell you in that message?”

“No…”

He leaned over the railings, elbows on the metal. He closed his eyes.

“I wanted to tell you that if I ever got out of that place alive, I’ll do everything-everything­-I possibly could to get you back…”

You looked up at the sky. Something stung in your heart.

“But I didn’t. I didn’t want to put you in a terrible place. Whether I got out of it or I didn’t, I just wanted you to find what you were really looking for…”

“I want you...“

“Y/N…”

“I still do…”

“You don’t,” he choked. “We were kids-“

“Fuck you, is that what you really think?”

He breathed through his mouth, looking at almost everything around but you.

“This was a bad idea…”

He started for the stairs. And you watched him, feeling him tear your heart out all over again. Just like the first time.

“Jay… Please…”

Just as he took the first step, he stopped when you held his face.

He didn’t pull away. In fact, he leaned into them.

“Don’t leave me again…”

“Y/N,” he bit his lip, leaning closer to you but not close enough to kiss you. “You don’t want this…”

“I do…”

“No-“

“Why not?”

“I’m not bringing you into this. You don’t know who I am anymore.”

“You're worth it…”

“Y/N…”

You brushed his cheek with your thumb. He was about to cry, and you, with your tears already falling, you whispered.

“You are the love of my life…”

He closed his eyes, let you hold his face a bit tighter.

“Do you really want me to forget about you?”

Your breath shaking, it hurt like the world stepped on you when he slowly nodded. “I can't let you hold on to me any longer…”

Everything. It hurt ten times more than you ever thought it could. You never could have thought this would happen.

“Just give me a few days with you… Please…”

“Y/N, no-“

“Please,” you gulped. “I’ve been wanting To just...hold you... for so long. I never thought I’d get to anymore. And now, you're actually here. The cosmos. Whatever brought you back, they sent you here. and if you really… If I can't spend the rest of my life with you anymore, just give me a few days… Please just give me that…”

Jason finally looked up at your eyes, shaking. His eyebrows were up to his forehead, and he looked so terribly beautiful.

“Please… and I swear, I’ll forget about us. I’ll finally move on. You never have to see me again…”

Jason… Your beautiful, perfect Jason…

He took your hands off of his face.

And you turned around before you hurt yourself even more watching him leave you for the second time.

You faced out the building, at the empty sky, then you shut your eyes close before it sank in that this was the reality you had to face. Another nightmare. Just when you thought you could handle it.

You heard Jason’s voice, light and subtle.

“Three days…”

You turned around.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He almost jumped down the fire exit, disappearing before he could possibly change his mind.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #jason todd angst #red hood angst #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

[kazimakuwabara]

8. Concession

summary: Deals are struck to appease the sick and appease the worrying. (one piece, slight SanUso)

***

“His temperature is high,” Chopper sighed stepping outside of his office with a frown. He kept his voice low, in case the patient was listening. “Really high... He needs to eat and drink more, but he’s putting up a resistance.”

Chopper rubbed his chin, concern weighing down his brow, “It’s a simple illness, an infection of the throat and sinuses. Strep throat. But his pain response to it... it’s as if he’s never been sick before!”

“Well... Usopp has claimed to have never been sick a day of his life,” Nami sighs, hands on her hips, and her gaze glaring at the door, “But I thought that was another... tall tale of his!”

“Surely he’s been sick before... at least once!” Brook argued, tapping his skeletal fingers to his teeth.

"I gotta admit... I've seen a lot of us sick, but I don't think I've seen Usopp-bro sick," Franky mused. He chuckled suddenly, before adding, "Well, not something he didn't invent anyway..."

“I’m not sure. I’m going to take a look at his blood for antibodies, but based on his fever and his reactions to the pain, I’m not sure if he's had this illness before. I really think it’s his first time experiencing this... which can be a problem. Mild illnesses are worse in adulthood if you’ve never experienced them in your youth!” Chopper sighed.

“Isn’t he just being a bad patient?” Zoro protested, “He’s just whining.”

“A temperature doesn’t lie, idiot,” Sanji snapped, a tray of soup and water in hand, “If Chopper says it’s bad, then it’s bad!”

Zoro glared at the cook, an insult ready on his lips, but Luffy, his usually cheerful tone subdued, interrupted, “Don’t fight. Usopp’s head was hurting from the noise earlier.”

The crew fell quiet, anxiety twisting in their stomachs over Luffy’s obvious concern. Finding out Usopp wasn't feeling his best, had been a bit of a shock.

In the middle of an escape from the Marines, Usopp had burst into tears over the noise of a canon, before collapsing on the ground. It hadn’t been too abnormal a sight, but his tears were normally from being scared... and not from pain. This had obviously been the latter, and the sight of it had shocked the group. Usopp had been gathered up and taken to Chopper's office immediately. More alarming than any complaint he could have made was his muttering that he was fine, despite his obvious fever, and flushed complexion.

“Usopp was hurting a lot,” Luffy mumbled, folding his arms with a frown.

A crew member falling sick was never a happy occasion, but in their years sailing together, Usopp had indeed, never gotten sick. His boasting over his good health had oddly been a comfort for the crew. He was normally the first to check on a downed crewmate, telling them stories, or encouraging them to take medicine. There was many an occasion Luffy's fast recoveries could be credited to Usopp, for tricking his Captain into taking his gross tasting medicine, thanks to some tale he wove.

And if asked to not get to close to the paitent he would laugh, “I never get sick! Never. While, I’ll have you know...” and then he’d launch into a story about how his family was blessed with good health, or that Usopp had sailed on the sea when he was seven, to do some great quest that caused his good health.

It was clockwork. Usopp didn’t get sick. He faked them. He did not succumb to them.

A cough from behind Chopper’s closed door caused the Straw Hats to jump.

Anxious eyes turned to the door, unease settling over them like a blanket.

“Has he eaten anything?” Robin asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“Not yet...” Chopper admitted, “He’s struggling even taking water right now.”

Sanji, straightened his back, his grip on the tray getting surer. 

“Well, he won’t turn my food down. Water and a light soup. It’s not too much much, and he’ll find the taste to his liking,” Sanji said with a nod, marching towards the door.

“If he could at least drink all the water... I don’t want to resort to an I.v.,” Chopper half pleaded, a brave smile on his face.

“He’s not going to die from this,” Zoro said, brown furrowed with frustration, “He’s going to be fine!” He seemed grumpier with Usopp laid up.

Franky opened the door for Sanji, and offered a grin of reassurance, “Good luck bro!”

Sanji entered Chopper’s office with firm steps. He flinched a little as the door closed behind him, suddenly finding himself squinting at the dimmed light of the room. 

It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust; Usopp was easy to spot on the bed, his black hair flowing like ink over his pillow. His dark skin was ashen, and his eyes were closed. He was frowning, the pain of his throat most likely the cause.

Sanji hated it when people were sick.

Nami’s brave sick face comes to mind. As does his mother’s. Both thoughts fill him with dread. Smiling while sick... he'd rather no one did that.

He feels cruel to suddenly be grateful Usopp isn’t hiding behind a brave smile.

Sanji sets the tray down on the desk by Usopp’s bedside with an intentional noise. Usopp’s body flinches, as if the noise had hurt him, and he peeks out at Sanji beneath heavy lashes... pouting at Sanji in greeting.

He’s not putting on a brave face, and again Sanji feels selfish to be happy about it.

Moved by relief, and an unexpected surge of compassion, Sanji reaches out to cup Usopp’s face. Usopp is burning up beneath his touch.

“Hey there... You’ve got to eat,” Sanji says, his words slow and awkward. He hadn’t really known what to say, especially now that he's touched him out of the blue.

Usopp makes an expressive frown but remains quiet. His dark eyes are locked onto Sanji, but they are darting over Sanji's face. He doesn't seem to know where to look, or perhaps, even lying down, he is too dizzy to focus on the cook's face.

“Can you sit up for water, at the very least?” Sanji asks thumb stroking Usopp’s cheek. He doesn’t know where the doting has come from, but he doesn’t push it down. They’re alone after all... no one to see what he’s doing.

Usopp nods, his fevered cheek pressing lightly into Sanji’s cool palm. He stays there a moment and then moves to sit up. His arms are trembling. Sanji reaches gently under those shaking arms and helps the sniper sit up, Usopp pressing his forehead heavily against  Sanji’s chest.

His breath is labored from the effort of sitting up.

Is this really just strep throat?

When Usopp’s breath is evened out, Sanji lets him go and reaches for the glass of water. He passes it to Usopp, who takes it obediently; quietly.

That quiet is so disturbing. Usopp is a small ball of chaos, smaller and more predictable than fluffy, but he's loud and exuberant. The quiet doesn't suit him.

“I know Chopper gave you medicine... it hurts now, but you’ll be feeling better soon. Chopper’s the best doctor,” Sanji says, unable to help but try and console the ailing sniper. Forcing a smile, Sanji continues, “So... so drink up! The water will help. It’ll help you feel better soon!”

Usopp’s pout grows deeper, but he sips the water. He jolts, wincing sharply, a hand going to his throat. He looks so surprised at the pain.

Nami had smiled so brightly while sick. His mother had eaten her food obediently. 

Sanji has one of Usopp’s hands in his own and clings to it. He’s not sure why he’s so scared now.

“Please drink it all. I know it hurts... but I promise you’ll feel better soon,” Sanji says, smiling as wide as he can.

Usopp frowns, and his eyes sluggishly turn to Sanji’s face. His head tilts slightly, and then, he smiles.

Sanji feels choked up at the sight.

Usopp’s feverish hand is suddenly on Sanji’s cheek, and the sniper whispers, “Sanji... stop. It is going to be alright... Don’t make that face.”

Sanji shakes his head, “I’ll... I’ll worry less if you promise to drink this, and have a few bites of soup.”

Usopp nods, head drooping as if it is weighed down. He grunts very softly in agreement. Closing his eyes, Usopp chugs half the water, before his hand goes to his throat. He coughs, his face twisting up from the pain, and Sanji is reaching forward again. 

He feels so helpless.

And then Usopp has his arms around him. 

Usopp is hot and sticky with sweat. His hug is too heavy and uncomfortable. He buries his face into Sanji’s throat, and sighs, his hot breath adding to the uncomfortableness.

“Stop... making that...face. I’ll get better. Just stop. I’ll be alright... Don’t look so sad,” Usopp whispers, voice strained and weak, "I'll have you know... I'm the fastest at getting better..." It's a weak story, and one with no elaboration. 

His strong hands, no longer small like how Sanji remembers them, curl around the lapels of Sanji’s jacket.

“In exchange... feed me. And listen to me complain. But I’ll... get better. So don’t look like... this,” Usopp’s voice is tired, and he sounds concerned.

Sanji hugs Usopp unsure of what face he is making, or how to stop it, so he tells him so.

"I don't know what I look like."

Usopp rubs his cheek against Sanji's hair and mumbles, "Very scared. I don't like... people looking at me like that... about this." 

Usopp is trembling.

Sanji abruptly remembers this isn't even a severe illness, and with a much braver and stronger voice insists, "You're going to be fine. We... I'm looking at you like this... because our sniper can't be down for long. You're going to get better. I just hate seeing you like this."

Usopp sighs, and his trembling calms. Somehow, Sanji has managed to bring Usopp comfort, while also comforting himself.

Sanji’s not even sure why all of this is bothering him so much.

Sanji holds Usopp tight, and thinks only of him. He pushes away Nami’s determined flushed face, and his mother's grateful, relieved smile. Nami is still here. His mother is gone. Usopp will be like the former. He'll get better.

All these things are related, and Sanji’s not sure if he understands how.

Usopp told him once, that his mother died when she was sick.

“Are you afraid?” Sanji asks, arms still tightly wrapped around Usopp. It doesn’t matter how uncomfortably hot everything is.

“Not like you,” Usopp whispers, lips brushing Sanji’s throat. “I’ll get better... didn’t I tell you? So no more...” Usopp’s hot hand covers Sanji’s eyes.

“I have to endure it when all of you don’t feel well... so don’t fall apart on me... If I can take it... you can take it too,” Usopp mutters, voice trying to be encouraging, even if the words don’t quite fit.

Sanji remembers all of Usopp’s smiles whenever they fall ill. He’s a good liar. Good at hiding when something is wrong. He too, lost his mother to illness.

Sanji had been worried about Nami when she was sick.

But not like how he had been worried about his mother.

Sanji is worried more for Usopp, over this nonfatal illness. More worried than he ever had been for his mother.

A disconnect in Sanji’s heart, and head--click.

“Ah...” Sanji whispers suddenly understanding something he had been trying not to look at for some time.

He looks down at Usopp in his arms. He’s asleep, his glass empty and bowl of food untouched. Sanji will try again when he wakes up. Usopp promised to get better. And he will. The whole crew, and not just Sanji, will see to it.

Sanji sets Usopp back gently on his pillow, releasing him very carefully. 

There’s a lot to think about, but Sanji will deal with that later. Every other thought and feeling is packed away, neatly tucked back inside Sanji for him to deal with at a later time. He’ll go make more soup for Usopp when he wakes up.

Usopp did promise to get better if Sanji stops making whatever face he’s been making. It’s a small price to pay that Sanji will agree to pay while Usopp’s eyes are open.

But if Usopp’s eyes are closed, Sanji decides to worry all he wants, and there’s not a thing the sniper can do about it.

#kazi fanfic #ooo got a lot numbers last night ^^ #also ask for as many numbers as ya like #I'll get to em. #Using these as a writing exorcise to challenge myself #Sanuso #lightly #Usopp #one piece #ptsd #hurt and comfort #schelduled post

[kaypeace21]

Hey Kay! I was wondering... I'm thinking of writing a Byler fic. Is there anything that's missing from the current fic library that you think would be good to see, in terms of tropes, characterisation, things to explore, etc? I would also appreciate hearing from your followers. Just any ideas that people would like to see in a fic.

yeah sure ...

1)We need more povs from Mike’s perspective. (Almost all are from Will’s pov - let’s mix it up sometimes)

Mike in canon is the pinning-gay -(overly romantic) whipped one , but we never see it. And he’s pretty much never written this way! Mike in s3 has 6 drawings from Will on his wall  (he kept them up since s1-for years- despite replacing the poster on the same wall). Has even caressed extra drawings of Will’s that he’s kept in his binder.  In s1 wrote a whole story for Will about defeating a monster and giving the king it’s  7 heads (cause Will rolled a 7 when the demogorgan attacked him.) And as a Star Wars fan he had his own character be given a medal by the king (like how leia gave the medal to Han for his heroism.) He attacked people for insulting Will. Literally hates apologizing -but is quick to do so for Will . Boy ran in the pouring rain twice for Will- disobeying cops, the government, and his parents to do so. He initiates every byler moment (arm thing, hand touch, ‘best thing i’ve ever done’, ‘crazy together, right?’, always asking Will “what’s wrong?” or “are you ok?” etc). And was upset at Will dancing with a girl + insecure about Will replacing him -after he moves away.

-but 90% of byler fanfics (don’t get me wrong some are good) are from Will’s pinning perspective. Also do people realize Mike is clearly the more romantic/ emotional open of the 2 while Will is clearly the more emotionally closed off/aloof one?  He loves Mike too- but he’s def less obvious about his feelings- based on how he behaves. Will rarely opens up to people (Mike being an exception). But, it’s never written that way (usually it’s the opposite).  

2) as a gay women all the reductive stereotypes annoy me. it’s obvious when fic writers try to have the gay romance be modeled after het romance- and try to make one into the ‘girl’/ ‘guy’. Duffers don’t stereotype  Mike or Will but a lot of fanfiction writers do in order to make the gay romance resemble a straight one more (canon character traits, be dammed). Please, stop pushing heterosexual dynamics on gay and lesbian couples and trying to make one “the girl” and “the guy”. It’s very offensive and innaccurate.

Because he’s taller and most people head canon him as bi they make Mike a jock (despite in canon having horrible aim and not being able to run as fast as the rest of the gang). And Will (since most see him as gay) is weak/ sucks at sports compared to mike...despite knowing how to use a bat, shoot a gun, and being able to tear castle byers apart with his bare hands . Also nothing in canon shows Will likes to wear makeup and dress in drag (but it’s a constant thing that i’ve heard come up or heard others mention). It would be fine if he wanted to express himself in such a way. And if it only came up in an occasional fic it wouldn’t be a big deal. But it’s such a common theme that comes up (despite no canon evidence) that in most cases it just screams ‘straight writers trying to make Will into “the girl”’.  Not to mention the huge emphasis of their height difference (shows this too). It can get annoying calling him “short” & “petite” (a term used for women) when will isn’t even the shortest guy member- and now his actor is way taller than gaten (dustin) a bit taller (I think?) than caleb (Lucas) and barely shorter than finn (Mike’s actor). But writers even in future fics write him as short...ok? ya’ll really can’t let go of making Will “the girl.” Cause ya’ll incorrectly equate shortness to femminity. It’s tiring. Some writers straight up say he’s “pretty “, “feminine” or “looks like a girl” 🙄

3) it’s not byler if it’s unrequited- stop tagging it as such

4) more emphasis on Will’s passions(art, writing, horror movies). Maybe in his upbringing with Lonnie.And jon being a good bro to him. Will’s Mental health issues maybe ?

5) mike is a socially awkward, clumsy, unathletic, (caring) science/sci-fi /D&D loving nerd. In au whatever- but mike is not a bro-y jock, or a cool bad boy. 😂 plus , more writer mike would be nice to see

6) headcanon him all you want -but at this point it’s pretty obvious (to me at least) Mike never loved el,and was just lying/confused/ projecting Will on her. And El is/was also confused and never loved mike.   so it would be nicer to see that instead of Mike just ‘falling out of love’ with her. Mike is gay. people say in s3 Will saying “a day free of girls” is gay coded but everyone ignores Mike in s3 saying “BOYS ONLY”. same energy. writers even threw in a telemarketing joke so Mike says in s3 “El? no. sorry not interested.” And Mike has more rainbow refs than Will.  Boy is clearly gay not bi (way too much evidence to talk about here) .  They even  compare mileven to ted/karen who “never loved each other.”   The  writers make fun of mileven constantly and say over and over it’s not actually romantic - (if you choose to read just 1 link read this one  and get with the program) . plus, most Bi dudes  wouldn’t stop being attracted to a girl the more fem she gets (and only be attracted to her when she looks like a “guy”(specifically their guy friend).which yes the characters in s1 said over and over again that El looked like a “boy”/“will”.  And then they have him Makeout with her while putting up a  drawing of said male bff on the wall (cause now she looks less like him) and so he needs to look at said bro, to stomach the makeout seshes/ and in an effort to transfer said romantic feelings from guy friend to gf. Then push his gf’s hands off himself during the kisses- sing to stop kissing, and  kiss to mostly show off how straight he is. And without said pic- not kiss back and just keep his eyes open and not reciprocate. Nor would they have Mike equate het romance to something he thinks he has to do as a part of growing up . Bi dudes consider falling for a girl as simply romance not a foreign idea that has to be done cause there’s no other option and that’s ‘just what old people do’. Mike claims el is the only girl he’s ever had feelings for - but like dustin said mileven is “bullshit “ (stancy parallel -where nancy was not in love but faking it). So mike’s never been into a girl and is also into Will... so...

7) it’s the 80s they can’t just be open/ have pda in public (you could have gotten k*lled or beaten severely.) And most of their friends/fam would not take it well initially. (I think jon, Karen , and steve/robin would take it well... but not most of the crew.) although they’d all prob come around eventually . -Takes me out of a fic to have such historical revisionism when everyone is just totally fine with byler and they’re out to the public/strangers.

but that’s just me. What about you guys?

#byler #byeler

[adultwithmuscles]

I kept telling myself, self, you don’t want to do this. But ya know, I’m done lying to myself. Don’t @ me.

So I keep seeing this post go around.

And instead of posting my unpopular opinion there, I’ll just make a new post all about my unpopular opinion. Because this is just like wrong. In two ways, really.

The first being, that’s not how it happened. He brought him onto the show, and before the dude even speaks, he says he won’t talk to him. And it wasn’t until after Phil thwarted his plan that the dude, very unarticulated, murmurs out his plot to expose Phil for his own exploitation. To which, Phil replies, keep telling yourself that. Beeson then, stunned, tries to fight to stay on the stage while security takes him out. Dr Phil talks to the audience and says he refuses the publicize this story. He brought Beeson to the show to defend Bumfights, but after seeing him come out like this, it was obvious to him (and anyone with brain cells) that Beeson isn’t interested in having an honest conversation. He is there for the clout and to be known forever as the guy who dressed up like Dr Phil and went onto the Dr Phil show. But he certainly didn’t come there to defend his film. Because his film, just like this stunt, and just like Beeson, are exploitative pieces of shit that want to make a quick buck. I encourage you to actually watch the video. https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xev7m3

This brings us to the second way in which this is wrong.

Because I think it’s absolutely ABSURD that anyone with iota of intellectual honesty could look in a mirror and say that the dude who films homeless people fighting for money is equally as bad as Dr fucking Phil. Like seriously? I know you’re an edgelord who lives for disrupting the normies or whatever but do you even fucking hear yourself?

Dr Phil. Phillip C McGraw. The dude who has two PhD’s in psychology, both clinical and forensic. Who then went on to open a consulting agency for the US courts. That’s where he met Oprah and subsequently got his start in TV. And then from there, the dude has tried to do as much good as possible.

He’s created a number one day time TV show that highlights everyday people with serious problems. His show, at least in recent memory, has made strong emphasis on mental health. I’m paraphrasing, but Phil often says to his guests that they’re teaching tools, anecdotal cases that demonstrate a larger societal problem. He’s never trying to cure or diagnose anyone. He provides additional support to those guests that need it/take it. And not just support. Like actual multi million dollar facilities, for fucking free, as compensation for coming on national TV and airing your dirty laundry for the world to see. (I guess I should also make it a point here that, in America, where the show is filmed, healthcare is not provided by the government!!!). He and his wife, Robin McGraw, are continuous donors to a number of charities, including the Dr Phil foundation, his own foundation dedicated to helping disadvantaged families in the Gulf Coast. Robin started the When Georgia Smiled foundation, which helps victims of sexual violence and assault. Dr Phil also founded Doctors On Demand, which provides telemedicine at affordable pricing (again, America). But above all of these measurable things (and many more), Dr Phil gets average, everyday people thinking and talking about mental health.

Is any of this to say Dr Phil is without flaw? No. He’s not infallible. He’s done several questionable things that I can think of. Like play down the seriousness of COVID at the beginning of the pandemic (which, it’s also absolutely worth mentioning, he immediately went back on it and then spent the next year making his entire show hyper-vigilant about COVID). And there’s even allegations that some guests he’s helped actually were abused at the facilities they went to (I mean, we can have a completely different conversation about how culpable someone is for another person’s misbehavior, but kinda beside the point rn, just saying, another questionable thing). I’m sure there’s shit he’s done that actually wasn’t that great.

But to try and misconstrue any of that as being on par with Bumfights guy? Sorry. Miss me with that shit.

Especially like.. on the website that champions itself as the home of neuro atypical weirdos and the ambassadors of the Woke™️ community. I just find it exhausting that edgelords who want SJW clout perpetuate this pessimistic attitude towards anything and everything that’s low hanging fruit. Cause here’s a dude, actually like, trying to do good in the world in the exact areas of concern a lot of youth have, and he’s bastardized and read in the most uncharitable light.

But like. Beeson is actual scum, though. Not only is this characterization an injustice to Phil, but also undermines what an actual piece of shit Beeson is. Yes. Bumfights is about homeless people fighting, sheerly a money grab, and the subject of several lawsuits. And Beeson is now some mediocre MMA boxer that still rides off the 15 minutes Bumfights gave him. But yeah. Sure. What he does and what Dr Phil do are totally the same thing. The fuck out of my face.

#okay phew #got that off my chest #dr phil #bumfights #discourse #mental health #unpopular opinion #don’t @ me #ok to rb #ok to like #please share #edgelord #miss me with that shit #I have strong feelings about dr Phil #dr phil icon don’t fuck wit me #dr phil got shooters out here #I didn’t cite everything but honestly you can just Google everything like I did if you want receipts

[dumbkiri]

My Universe

Watch me as my world burns down

Parts: [1]

Summary: [Name] is born! Jason abandons his daughter as he sets out on an adventure only Dick knows about. Damian takes a liking to [Name] even though she is learning to like him back. Jason returns and wants [Name] back, but Damian won't let her go easily.

Pairing: Damian Wayne x HoH!Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: Slight Angst! Slight Fluff!

WARNINGS: MENTIONS ABORTION, ABANDONMENT

Jason Todd felt pain. He has felt so much pain in his lifetime that it could kill him now. At one point it literally did. He was murdered by a psychopathic villain and felt pain each time that cold crowbar touched him.

It was when he was reborn that he continued to feel that dreaded feeling. He was replaced by a new Robin. He was forgotten. At least that was what he thought. Jason felt pain.

Although it slowly went away when he met a young woman. Her name was Aurora and she had beautiful [h.color] hair that shone in the moonlight. She had twinkling [e.color] eyes that challenged the stars. Her intelligence could rival Batman. Her heart pure like Alfred's care for the boys.

Jason knew that as he spent time with Aurora, he would love her. Love her as he loved books. She was something he held dear to his heart. He was going to fight for her and come back to her alive. She was his motivation.

"Hey, Jay," Aurora called from the baby's room, "do you prefer the gun in the cradle or not in the room at all?"

Jason pulled his helmet off and rested it on the kitchen counter. He grabbed an apple and took a bite from it, "Uh, why are you asking me that question? It's a weird question." He began walking toward the baby's room to see his girlfriend.

"I don't know if you tell me, maybe I will," That tone she used. It was different from the soft one she usually speaks with.

He stopped in his tracks and turned away from the opened door. No way in Hell was he going in there when his girlfriend used that tone. No, it was dangerous. And Jason knows dangerous.

"Come back here!" She roared and chucked the gun at his head to which he nearly dodged it. "Whoa, babe, calm down!" He raised his hands above his head to protect himself.

Aurora stepped out of the room with a sneer on her face, "Calm down? You put a gun in the baby's bed! How do you expect me to calm down?" She grabbed a pillow off one of the couches and threw it at Jason.

He caught it in his hands and smiled, "Hey, A, it was an accident. Remember last night when I was stumbling around with a gunshot wound to my shoulder and I came through the baby's room?"

"Yeah?" Aurora said still fuming. Her hand reaching for another pillow.

Jason held the pillow in his hands as a shield, "Well, I must have dropped it and totally forgot I left it in there."

Aurora stopped reaching for the pillow and instead placed it under her chin, "That explains the blood on the floor and the rocking chair."

"Why do we have a rocking chair again? That's a prop out of a horror movie. Haven't you seen Annabelle?"

Aurora threw the second pillow and it successfully hit Jason in the face, "Yeah I have, you forced me to watch it."

Jason chuckled and put the pillows that were thrown at him back on the couch. Then he wrapped his arms around Aurora mindful of the baby. "I didn't force it on you."

Aurora scoffed, "You basically set all the TVs and phones to only play that movie until I watched it with you. I don't know how you did it, but you did."

"I'm pretty smart, Aurora." Jason bragged and leaned in for a kiss.

She pulled away and walked back to the baby's room, "Yes, but it was Tim that helped you. Don't try lying to me, I'm psychic."

"Right," Jason rolled his eyes and followed after her, "I forgot about that."

Jason Todd felt heartache. His heart had broken before. Shattered into millions of pieces that it was impossible for him to fix. For his family to fix.

Aurora was different. She pieced his heart all together. Made sure that his glass heart would shine again. And it did.

He was happy with her. Bruce noticed it. The boys did and so did Alfred. They noticed how radiant and happy he was when Aurora was mentioned. Sometimes using her name calmed him down and sometimes it riled him up. It just depended on how her name was used.

His heart ached when the doctor addressed her. It was when they made a difficult decision together. As a family.

"Ms. Davis, I have terrible news for you," The doctor looked at Jason, "excuse me, for the both of you."

Aurora sat up in the hospital bed and Jason stood off his chair. "What? Is she not okay? She was healthy two weeks ago." Aurora tried to make sense of what the bad news the doctor was bringing.

The doctor shook his head and looked at his papers, "The baby is very healthy."

"Then what's wrong?" Jason pressed.

"It's your own health, Ms. Davis," The doctor looked sadly at the mother. He set his clipboard on the counter behind him. "I'm afraid that your life will be in danger when and, or after you give birth. I looked at your previous health issues and you have a history of heart problems. Giving birth is a strenuous feat and it could possibly kill you."

The couple didn't say a word. Too shocked to form a sentence. The doctor proceeded.

"You have two options, Ms. Davis and Mr. Todd. Either resume your regular activities and give birth risking your life, Ms. Davis, and possibly the child's."

"Or what?" Aurora asked breathlessly.

"Or you can have an abortion." The doctor finished with his hands intertwined in front of him.

"What?" Jason asked more than angry. "She either dies giving birth or we kill our own child? You can't do anything else for us?"

The doctor shook his head, "I'm sorry that's all we can do for you. I'll let you two discuss on what you want to do in private." The doctor left the room and closed the door behind him. Jason couldn't bear to look at Aurora. Not when he received such terrible news. Not until he felt her hand hold his trembling one.

"Hey," She whispered getting his attention. His blue eyes connected with her sparkling [e.color] ones.

"We both know what to do, right?" She asked her voice cracking and tears falling down her cheeks.

Jason wiped his eyes with his free hand, "I don't know what you're talking about, Aurora." His heart breaking once again. And she wasn't fixing it this time because her own heart was breaking.

She tugged on his hand, "Yes, you do. I know you do." Aurora saw his heart breaking right in front of her and she desperately wanted to hold it together. But how could she when she couldn't do the same for herself.

"Look at me, Jason," She demanded as her voice cracked.

He removed his hand from his eyes reluctantly and looked at her. She was smiling at him even when tears were falling down her cheeks. "We are having this baby," Aurora said confidently.

Jason shook his head, "You'll die and I can't lose you. I won't lose you because of this baby. I won't."

Aurora bit her lip, "I'm seven months pregnant. Do you know what they'll do to our angel, Jay? Do you?" She asked angrily. How could he consider abortion so easily? Was it because she would die?

"No and I don't want to know," Jason said pulling his hand away from her warm one. He was beginning to feel cold.

Aurora shifted in her spot, "What they will do to our baby is dismember it while she is inside me. I don't want to be on an operating table knowing that my little girl is being pulled out piece by piece and with her skull being crushed."

"And I don't want to know that while you are giving birth that your heart is failing you! I really don't Aurora!" Jason yelled his blue eyes boring into her very own soul. "You're the only person who really understands my pain. The only person who understands me."

Aurora cried, "And she'll learn how to understand you if you give her a chance. Give [Name] a chance to understand why I love you!"

Jason released his glare and stared at his girlfriend with pity, "You already have a name for her? When did you decide?"

"Just right now," Aurora said calmly, "she deserves a name if we are discussing whether she lives or dies."

"Okay," Jason tried to calm himself down. He walked to Aurora's bedside and brushed her hair. "[Name] is a beautiful name by the way. Where did you come up with that?" He was trying to forget what was going to happen to Aurora in two months.

Key word: Trying.

Jason felt alone. He felt alone once the love of his life closed her eyes on that bed. He felt sadness when Aurora didn't feel warm and when the monitor stopped beeping. He felt alone even when he held his newborn daughter. Aurora gave her life having this baby.

Turns out, [Name] was born deaf. His own daughter couldn't hear his voice. It was a good thing because she couldn't hear him cry over his dead girlfriend, over her dead mother as Dick took her out of the hospital room.

Jason cried and cried over Aurora. He yelled at her for leaving him alone. For agreeing that this was the best choice. That letting [Name] live was the best choice compared to her. He cried for himself because he had a child to take care of. He had to go home without his girlfriend and with a baby.

"Why won't she be quiet?" Damian complained to his brothers and father while dangling a stuffed lion above her. His green eyes glaring at the infant girl with annoyance.

Dick walked over to the baby in the carriage, "Have you tried giving the lion to her?"

Damian handed the stuffed animal to [Name] and she rudely threw it back at him. She was still crying. Their problem was not solved.

"Oh, [Name]," Dick cooed and poked her wet cheek, "you're not so pretty when you cry."

Damian pushed Dick away from the little girl, "That won't help, she can't hear you." Damian focused back on shushing [Name] up. Maybe if he brought Titus down in the cave, the dog will cheer her up.

"Why isn't Todd here? It's his daughter," Damian placed the stuffed lion next to the [e.color] eyed infant. "He's been gone ever since she was born which has been two weeks."

Dick cringed at the fact. He knew exactly where Jason was, but Jason specifically told him not to follow. That he would kill if him if he tried to stop him.

Timothy stopped typing away on his computer and sipped at his coffee. He wasn't going to butt in on Jason's life choices. But it was messed up that he left them to take care of [Name].

"Jason is going through a lot right now, Damian." Dick tried to defend the second Robin. Although it wasn't going smoothly. "He just lost his girlfriend and it's not easy-"

"He abandoned his only daughter," Damian sneered. He had enough with Jason's theatrics. [Name] needs her father. "Where is he Grayson?"

Dick sweatdropped at the deadly glare Damian was giving him. He pulled at his shirt in a nervous way, "Man it sure is getting hot, how about we go for a walk? [Name] needs some fresh air anyways."

Dick grabbed the bassinet and carefully put [Name] in it. When Dick held her [Name] had stopped crying, but when he put her in the bassinet she started again.

Damian quirked an eyebrow, "Hmm, I know what the problem is now."

Dick gave Damian a questioning look.

"Stupid Grayson, tt," Damian tutted and picked up [Name] cradling her in his arms. Her crying seized and instead she began cooing at the green eyed boy. "She wants to be held. Obviously we aren't the affectionate type, father being the worst at it," Damian took a verbal jab at the man working at the computer.

Bruce heard his words and was slightly wounded. No, he was totally wounded.

"But she craves some attention, some love," Damian was droning on and when he was Dick walked backwards toward Timothy keeping an eye on the boy.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Dick asked Tim with wide eyes.

Timothy nodded his head, "The demon spawn is actually holding a baby. Jason's baby to be exact and when he finds out, he's gonna flip."

[Name] Wayne felt happy. That's all she felt when she was around her family. They were caring and loving. They gave her candy even when she wasn't allowed to have any. They made silly faces at her and gave her warm hugs.

She couldn't hear them, but the faces they made at her helped her. She understood when she did something wrong because they frowned. She understood when she did something cool because they jumped up in excitement.

It was difficult for her to understand their language. All she needed was facial expressions for now.

"No, that's not how you say 'princess', Grayson. Are you paying attention at all?" Damian scowled as he watched Dick try to sign the one word he wanted to learn to call [Name].

[Name] sat in Damian's lap happily as she slapped her hands on his legs. The green eyed boy not minding, he was hit harder than before.

"Look Damian, we should take [Name] out for a walk. I think she might be getting bored of sitting in your lap." Dick said resting his hands by his side.

Damian looked offended, "Bored?" He picked up the two year old and asked her, "You don't get bored of me, do you [Name]?"

[Name] laughed and reached for his face. Her tiny fingers wiggling around and her feet kicking in the air. Her pink socks covering her toes that curled. He brought her closer to his face and let her hands rest on his cheeks. 

He could have sworn he saw the universe through her eyes. The planets revolving around the bright sun. Her eyes twinkled like the stars. He didn't know what the feeling was in his chest, he knew it was foreign. He liked the feeling. 

"Her answer is no," Damian confirmed with a smug look.

Dick chuckled, "She can't hear you, so how do you know?"

"She looks happy to me, doesn't she?" Damian countered.

"You got a point," Jason said standing above the two males. Dick jumped out of surprise and Damian literally jumped from his spot. The green eyed boy holding [Name] close to his body and away from her father.

"Why the hell are you here, Todd," Damian asked with venom laced in his tone. If he was allowed his sword around [Name], he would have cut Jason where he stood.

Jason rested his hands on his hips, "I'm here to see my daughter and take her home where she belongs."

Damian scoffed, "Where she belongs?" He held [Name] tighter in his arms, but not too much so he wouldn't hurt her. He knew his boundaries. "She doesn't belong to you Todd."

"Neither does she belong to you, demon spawn."

"You abandoned her and now you want to show up here and take her away? I won't let you."

Jason sighed and looked at Dick for help. The older male shrugged his shoulders walking to Damian to take [Name] away from him. Damian hesitated, but knew Dick wouldn't hand [Name] over so easily. After all they took care of her for two years.

Dick walked a good distance away from them.

Jason rolled his blue eyes and turned his body toward Dick. "I'm not doing this right now. I'm leaving with [Name] whether you like it or not." He took only a couple of steps to Dick and it didn't take long for Damian to stop him.

The green eyed boy swiped his foot under the unguarded male letting him fall onto his back. Then Damian pressed his foot on Jason's chest, "I won't repeat myself Todd. You won't take [Name] away."

Jason gripped onto Damian's foot. "Don't test me, Damian," The blue eyed male growled. 

"Same goes for you, Todd," Damian pressed his foot harder onto Jason's chest. His green eyes sparkling in determination. His motivation fuelled by protecting [Name] and when he heard her giggle behind him. His heart leaped. It was a weird feeling. 

Caught off guard, Damian was flipped onto his back by Jason. His back crashing down and almost knocking the air out of him. "You don't listen, demon spawn. One day it'll get you killed." 

Damian didn't like people like Jason standing over him. It wasn't right. So he rolled backwards standing protectively in front of Dick and [Name]. His black hair tousled from the fall. "I'm not stupid enough to repeat history, Todd. I won't die like you." 

His words struck a chord within Jason. "Dick, I want my daughter back." 

"I said she doesn't belong to you," Damian clarified getting Jason's attention again. "She doesn't know who you are. You're a complete stranger to her." 

Jason rubbed his face in annoyance, "Which is why I'm taking her back, [Name] needs to be with her father. This is adult business and you don't understand that-"

"Adult business? Since when have you started acting like an adult? The only person that kept you in line was Aurora, [Name]'s mother." Damian spat with hatred. 

Jason's blue eyes changed from a sunny sky to a storm in an ocean, "Don't say her name. You have no right to judge me for what I've been through." 

"Imagine what you put [Name] through!" Damian pointed at the two year old sniffling in Dick's arms, "She may not understand what's going on, but she can tell by our expressions that this isn't pretty!" 

"Why do you care for her so much, huh? She isn't yours to begin with. She never was!" 

"I've been at her side longer than you have which is more than you can say for yourself! You're unfit to be a father!" 

Dick watched with careful eyes as his brothers argued amongst each other. [Name] kicked her legs and pushed against his arms wanting to be near the bickering males. Then Dick started feeling weird and [Name] was beginning to sparkle. 

Then suddenly she started floating out of his arms. "Guys…" Dick drawled out trying to get their attention. But they weren't listening. Dick watched as [Name] grew. Literally grow right in front of him. 

"I say we got about this a different way, pipsqueak," Jason grabbed Damian by the collar of his black shirt. 

"Is that a challenge, Todd?" Damian questioned raising a fist up in the air. 

As Damian was going to unleash his anger, he stopped once he felt a weight on his back and small arms wrap around his waist. He looked down and saw a girl with [h.color] hair holding onto him tightly. Her eyes closed and tears streaming down her pretty face. 

Damian lowered his arm and called out to the little girl, "[Name]?" 

......

Tags: @zalladane @buchanangaby @poisoned-pineapple

#damian and dick #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #batman imagine #batfam imagine #batman #dc universe #dc imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #my universe

[currentfandomkick]

Miraculous and the Batboys - Week 3

So i am back(ish) and I bring the Update. Editting is for those with patience and time that i lack. ao3 link HERE

--

A weekend dodging Gina was… eventful. Even moreso when celebrating ‘No More Gabriel Brand’ time was cut short by a barrage of akuma.

All weekend.

Marinette is convinced the man has too much free time.

She would admit (ONLY when no one else was around) that having someone else checking info during battles was nice. Out of the visiting bats, she had come to rank them from least to most irksome: Red Robin (most helpful), Nightwing (helpful), Red Hood (… he was slightly less annoying—he seems to understand she is the leader of the team) then Robin (who can’t get that she knows what she’s doing, AND hurts the minions more than necessary).

Okay, maybe she’s holding a grudge from when they first met (Tikki enjoyed reminding her of that new found habit—grudge holding) but you don’t go around calling a bunch of magic jewelry powered superheroes incompetent before finding out what they’re fighting and how they have to fight!

And yes, this is a hill she will die on.

Chloe and Adrien are in full agreement, well, Queen Bee and Chat Noir are.

“Are you sure we can’t just…” Chat gestured with his eyes to where Robin was perched at the edge, “just a little?”

Marinette didn’t answer him. She turned to Queen Bee. “You need to influence chaton less.”

“Never.”

--

Tim almost collapsed when he saw Marinette on her own. Why?

Because he was Certain that he saw a, a red thing—creature? Poke something out of her purse.

Red was Ladybug’s color. Yep. She’s. Yep—mini Red Robin hard since he’s pretty sure she’s avoiding someone too.

She was too—he knew for a fact she’s avoiding Gina excellently (either hiding at the hotel with Chloe, the teashop or one Adrien Agreste and his… legal cousin but Tim is certain there is something off about that with the Holy Doopleganger Batman! Vibe he got from checking out the pair’s apartment. He now had a fun thing to look into when he’s bored and tired of Hawkmoth Shenanigans).

She’s also… yep. Dodging a bunch of teens he’s certain are her classmates.

And… Damnit demon spawn!

--

Marinette managed to disentangle herself from class parkour (miraculous training as civvies) when she got a text from Damian.

Apparently he wanted to ask how she was handling the whole… Thing with Bustier and Lila.

She wonders if he’s dealt with bullying too, and was looking for advice. She was certain hers was crap, but she did say she’d be around so…

She met up with Damian not too far from the park at a café, nothing fancy, and waited for him to start once they’d placed their orders.

“I know it is a personal matter and not my place to ask, however I would like to know how you have managed to endure the repugnant behavior of our teacher and the harlot.”

Marinette forgot she should think before responding.

“Pretty sure whores and sex workers are paid. She’s more con artist for attention than anything else.”

She missed Damian’s response as the waiter put down their drinks and raised an eyebrow at them.

“Remember the girl that framed me a while back and tried to expel me the first Scarlet Moth round?”

“Ah.” The waiter turned to Damian then. “Don’t insult whore by putting them in with that, well, work and I see my boss so I can’t say what I want again, but we both know what she is, and whores are no where near that level. Politicians, most, whores? No.”

Marinette snorted into her drink as they left.

“And to answer your question, well, I don’t really have a choice.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at that.

Marinette could feel his eyes on her, but couldn’t meet their gaze with this topic. (It still hurt, even though it’s a been years since it began.)

“Lila had everyone charmed or uncertain if she was lying until two weeks ago. Bustier said I had to be a good example and class representative putting that above everything else in my life. Even though everyone knows I’ve been helping run three different businesses on top of handling my program and own business and clientele, and help take care of Fu with a few other small business kids. Nothing could come before the class’s harmony—nothing.”

Marinette took a small bite of her pastry.

“So I saw someone who could force her to listen or have to deal with actively and knowingly violating anti-akuma laws—something she’s only managed to narrowly avoid since, well,” Marinette gestured to herself. “I got tired of constant akumas in class and managed to convince the school board as my last act as class rep to require daily and weekly mental health checks and mitigate potential akuma triggers during weekly checks, daily being more ‘answer these questions honestly’ for stress levels. The system flags major changes, and the students affected see one of the counselors immediately to find ways around what’s bothering them.”

Marinette missed Damian staring at her for that, or how his mouth opened ever so slightly.

“When I stepped down, everyone noticed I wasn’t comfortable alone with Bustier, so it became a rule to stop it whenever they could. The other classes are field specialty and ours is the only one for people doing more than one program or close to.”

Marinette looked up at that with a  smile. “Fashion is my official program, but since I do so much business outside of school, I kept having to take classes to help out early on. I never enrolled in the program officially like Chloe did, but the school has me credited as able to graduate with both programs, so until they can justify opening another multi-program class, I’m not allowed to transfer out of the class and stay in Dupont.”

Her eyes hardened when she said, “And I’m not letting a liar and a Bustier be the reason I left the only school that’s willing to go as far as they have for me program-wise—especially not when I only have a year left.”

Damian nodded at that, deciding he’d have to sic Drake on the harlot either way… perhaps Todd and Gina too. He was feeling spiteful.

--

Marinette decided that when she meets Hawkmoth, she is not only punching him in the face, she is going to do, she doesn’t know exactly what (Tikki has a few ideas that Marinette is certain involve torture) but it will hurt.

Why?

Third akuma on a Sunday. THIRD! What is this man not doing that he was before? She wants to know since whoever freed up his time is on her list now.

Robin was being less annoying (re: tracking the akuma and leaving the minions less battered than usual) while Red Robin was helping the police evacuate affected areas with Nightwing. Somehow Red Hood got it in his head to stick with Chat for “on the job training” her team is trained asshole and she is debating how far she should go when they finish off Hawkmoth for good.

--

Monday was… interesting. The emancipation was approved—Adrien Agreste legally required no legal guardian.

When Gabriel tried to fire Gorilla, well, Adrien pointed out Gorilla had been in Adrien’s employ this whole time as mother hired and paid him from her accounts. Which transferred to Adrien when she was declared dead.

Marinette dreaded the akuma Hawkmoth might cook up using Gabriel. How he wasn’t akumatized again was anyone’s guess.

Class was…

“So last night Damiboo said—“

Marinette put her head on her desk, and decided to raise an eyebrow at a… for some reason ill-looking Damian.

“Is it because you guys share a name?”

Damian blinked.

Adrien turned around then. “Or because someone has commitment issues.”

Marinette squinted at Adrien because… “What?”

Nino sighed. “Adrien is on another MatchMaker spree.”

“ah. Who are the victims?”

“Not touching it dudette, not touching it.”

Marinette snorted. “It’s not like he’s going to match anyone with well,” Marinette gestured at herself.

“Your infamous army.”

“They are not an army.”

“How many ‘relatives’?” Nino used air quotes.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. “Well under a hundred thousand, so not an army.”

“I am counting the fans.”

Marinette scoffed. “They do not count.”

“They do, and I’m pretty sure Adrien’s fan girl army is applicable.”

“Okay, just because they made up titles and help out during akuma evacs does not make them an army—they’d need weapons training, clear chain of command, coded strategies—”

“And the fact you know this only proves my point, you have an army.”

“Who has an army?” Chloe asked as she walked over.

“Marinette.”

“I do not!”

“You do,” Chloe agreed. “Kim!” the boy looked over at that. “Marinette’s ‘family’ is a small army.”

“I, yes?” Kim’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Any one that picked her up had how many knives on them when we were kids?”

Damian turned to her with a suspicious eye.

She blushed. “Nonna’s friends.”

Damian nodded slowly.

Marinette wondered if the earth could just… swallow her up now.

--

The rest of the week was in a similar vein. Constant attacks, the batboys helping, her class being weirdly fixated on her family (they aren’t violent, just… prepared.)

Her gymnastics classes were a godsend, and her instructor was checking up on her more than usual, but that might be her more or less running her own classes and lessons as she worked out her routine, music choice, and requirements for her teammates and partners for her routines on trapeze.

Tim was around more. He got it in his head that she needed “guidance” (and okay, she does) on how to conduct corruption investigations into the whole company’s practices and staff.

Then there was Damian being… distant? She was busy but they weren’t talking as much as they were at first and fine, whatever, she got it. She’s not someone he wants to be around…. It happens.

It just… hurts a little is all.

At least she had Adrien and less secrets there. He was fixated on Damian having “commitment issues” and she thinks he’s trying to set him up with someone (Chloe maybe? Why else would he be this focused…. It’d be interesting explaining she’s pretty sure Chloe like girls better than boys and that Damian isn’t her type. At a later date—she’s too busy to now).

Then she had chores and was called in for a hearing on Bustier which was… interesting…. (her duties weren’t too bad for class president. she wasn’t making lesson plans or anything. The role model and forgiving everyone for hurting her and being told to let Lila walk all over her for years was not okay at all, but any teacher would have said that, right?)

Oh and Gina was now convinced Marinette needed protection and now semi-stalking her (Jason was weirdly close to Jason now and talking to him a lot). So random Grandma Attacks when she wanted to draw in Peace.

Lord Murder was her best stress buddy, and Gina is now well acquainted her. She was also given Gina’s Seal of Approval to take over her house for the purposes of keeping Lord Murder and staying there once her current tenants were out (no seeing it until then… unfortunately. She did get dimensions for cat things though. she may browse a bit obsessively… only a bit.)

--

Tim froze when he ran into Jason with Civilian Chat Noir. And a giant man (Gorilla). At their base. Playing videogames.

“Hey Tim, this is Adrien, Adrien, Tim. Adrien is your mini’s buddy and this is the guy that keeps the harpies away, Gorilla—yes he refuses to tell me his real name—and they’re family now. B can suck it.”

Adrien waved at him before turning back to the game. “I have no idea why he keeps saying that.”

Tim took a deep breath. Apparently adopting strays was just another Bat-thing. “So its nurture, not nature.”

Damian came out, sighed when he saw the group still there, and took a drink into his room while saying. “I did not adopt him.”

Adrien looked back at him then. “You have too many commitment issues to. Don’t worry, though, I’m good at destroying pesky problems like that.”

Tim blinked at that.

Damian sighed as they had this conversation too often now. At school and apparently, his home now. “I am not going to—”

“That’s just your fear talking—we both know that.” Adrien spoke like he was talking to a petulant child. “Why don’t you text your friends and see what they think since I already know the answer and you need more convincing.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Jon thinks you are annoying.”

“I’m a delight.” Adrien turned back to his game then.

Jason grinned proudly next to him. A bit too much like a proud parent for Tim’s comfort. (He may also be realizing his keep-his-mini-from-Damian-dating may end up in vain thanks to one Adrien Agreste(?))

--

Dick sent Bruce exactly (1) update: You are a grandpa now—Jason has a blond cat-hero son who can’t dodge.

Bruce may have had a small heart attack as now he has a magic grandson that he never met, apparently controls raw destruction, and is deeply traumatized. (It was the grandpa part that freaked him out—the rest is par for the course as Batman. He’s a Grandpa Alfred—he’s too young for his children to pull a him and adopt tiny traumatized children and train them into (heroes) vigilantes. Alfred stop laughing, he’s being serious!)

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

HEY so thanks for patience with the updates as life is Extra Hell now between puppy training when i'm finally home and work being Extra Hell with longer shifts and more to do during.

And before anyone asks about the peacock!marinette thing, look at the two series I have going with Bronywn as those are ongoing as my stress writes.

Any preferences for next update? Open to ideas as my mind is too stressed to do more than work off a prompt of some kind for the time being, and next to none of this story has been planned so far, so ideas are very welcome to keep it moving forward.

--

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron @tired-butterfly @multplelifes @yin-390 @area51qt @toodaloo-kangaroo @bzz75 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @daminett4life @smolplantmum @karategirl119 @goblinwhoships @melicmusicmagic @maribat-is-lifeblood @spartanxhunterx @maribat-is-lifeblood @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #daminette idea au #miraculous team and batboys #my writing #my writings #long post #somehow still alive

[dented-nado]

Only if you want but maybe 18 “I can’t breathe” with superbat? It might be more angst than fluff but maybe supes is helping bat calm down from a panic? Love your stuff! 💕

[[Sorry this took so long! But once I got writing! I couldn’t stop! So I hope you enjoy this ficlet! It takes place in canon-verse - Dick has just quit as Robin and Bruce has a lot of rules for being Batman. Enjoy!]]

 Batman as a meaning, sometimes changed… depending on what Bruce either wanted to enforce or punish himself with.

It could be something as simple as “Batman doesn’t eat Nachos” or “Batman doesn’t eat a lot of sweets”.

Those were rules meant to control his diet and discourage himself from emotional eating. Though it also meant he didn’t always let himself have a little fun when it came to dining at all.

Being dedicated as he was to organization, he had all the Batman rules written down - in a small black book he kept in a locked drawer in the bat-cave.

Rule #1: Batman doesn’t cry

Bruce hated crying, especially in front of people. It made him feel vulnerable, it made him feel weak… and most of all, when he cried, he couldn’t control it. Not being able to control some part of himself no matter how small infuriated him. He sometimes wished he was a cyborg or a computer that was easily programmable and he could do being Batman and doing his work without pesky emotions or trauma getting in his way.

There were some times - times he wasn’t very proud of, he had felt tears slip out of his eyes among his teammates, he had the bat-cowl to hide them. But he knew that both Clark and J'onn knew every damn time he had started crying. J'onn didn’t tend to bother him about it, and would pretend he didn’t notice, because he knew Bruce didn’t want it to be noticed.

Clark would do the same… for the most part. Bruce knew he tried, hard, for his sake, because he knew that -especially in the Batsuit- that Bruce didn’t want to acknowledge he had gotten emotional over something, or something they encountered had brought up old feelings, opened old wounds that had never healed or gone acknowledged. Except… Clark would bite his lip and look over at Bruce with sad eyes, like he wanted to talk, somehow encourage Bruce to open up, somehow convey that it was okay even for the Bat to sometimes cry… because he himself struggled with the fact that even the man of steel was allowed to cry.

But he didn’t, at least not in the moment, because if he called it out, Bruce would shut down and lash out, deny it, because Rule Number One: Was Batman Doesn’t Cry.

Even if Bruce Wayne cried, Batman couldn’t cry.

Rule # 2: Batman doesn’t panic.

Batman always had to be in control. Of himself and the situation. He couldn’t panic. He wasn’t supposed to panic. If he panicked… who would be the one to figure it all out if not him? So, he absolutely could not panic.

Except he had panicked before. He had broken that rule.

Sometimes it was in a quiet ‘silly’ way, like when he had been in the bat-cave with the cowl down - Clark right by his side after they had a long day dealing with various catastrophes - when asked:

“Hey B… you sure your okay? After today?”

Bruce’s brain had short-circuited when asked if he was okay for some damn reason and had answered:

“Peachy-keen and Squeaky Clean.”

“…What?”

Clark had swallowed hard to keep from chuckling. Bruce put his head in his hand.

“Fuck… its something Dick used to say.”

“Sounds like a young Dick Grayson thing to say…” Clark had paused, Bruce willed the pink in his face to go away and pleaded with every higher power in existence that his ears wouldn’t turn pink as well and stand out like a damn stop-light on his pale sun-deprived skin.

“Were you thinking about him B?” Clark had asked slowly.

“……”

This came up against Rule #3: Batman doesn’t lie for stupid reasons.

Bruce found himself having trouble following this one the most.

“No…”

“Bruce.” Clark had said in a disappointed tone.

“Yes.” Bruce immediately replied, changing his answer. It was a little ridiculous how Clark could manage to get him to stop lying the same way Alfred could just by speaking in that ’oh your better than that.’tone.

“Have you talked to him lately?” Clark asked.

Bruce knew Clark was perfectly aware he was treading on dangerous territory, but it didn’t seem to phase the super-man at the moment.

“… I don’t think he wants to talk.”

“I know he quit as robin but…”

“He was furious at me for not telling him about Batgirl… among other things… I think… and we haven’t talked since.”

They sat in silence as Bruce stared forward blankly at his computer.

“I’m never doing it again…” He had said finally in a low voice.

Clark had landed on the ground from his floating position and put a quiet hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Doing what, B?”

“I wasn’t a good parent. I wasn’t ready to be a parent, I… I think I was projecting onto him, so I thought our goals were aligned, but they weren’t… I don’t know why I thought… I would be good for him, I was terrible for him.” Bruce found himself babbling.

He had just broken Rule #4: Batman doesn’t talk about feelings or personal events to anyone.

But then again… his cowl was down, so maybe it wouldn’t count… but on the other hand he was still in the suit.

At some point along the way of becoming friends with Clark Kent, he had broken and completely obliterated Rule #5: Batman doesn’t trust anyone. Because he had come to trust Clark. Batman had come to trust Superman. It felt dangerous… the way Clark had slowly gotten him to open up, feel safe, feel comforted. It scared him… but he treasured it at the same time. So sometimes… the fact he had broken that rule didn’t always feel so bad.

“I think you did the best you could given the circumstances… and maybe your goals were aligned at one point and he just… changed. And I don’t know B, I was peeved at my parents when I was about Dick’s age.” Clark said with a slight shrug.

Bruce’s head whipped towards him. “Why? I mean maybe I don’t know parents well but… yours seem so…”

Clark smiled and chuckled. “Perfect?” He floated back up in the air and 'sat’ on nothing next to Bruce’s chair, criss-crossing his legs. “No, but really. I thought about running away even… I was going through some stuff, it was… hard going through puberty, gaining powers, and realizing your an alien that fast. I briefly resented them not telling me… it was worse than just not knowing I was adopted, I was an adopted alien. I felt lied to, and like I didn’t belong anywhere.”

Bruce leaned forward curiously. He had never heard Clark really talk about his childhood or teenager-hood before. “Eventually I realized… they were just trying to give me a normal childhood, where I could feel like a normal kid. They never wanted me to feel like I didn’t belong, and eventually we talked about it.”

He twiddled his thumbs. “I know its far from a one-to-one with what your going through with Dick… I’m sure you both have a long list of things you could have done, should have done… and it just… blew up without either of you realizing it was blowing up. ”

Bruce nodded quietly in response. “I probably had it coming. I don’t think I taught him how to deal with his anger in a very healthy way. I’m not exactly a model of mental health…” Bruce mused. “I know sometimes been letting fighting be a way to deal with things rather than dealing with them… that’s probably not a good thing, is it?”

“Probably not… but I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a single person in the league that doesn’t sometimes use fighting as an emotional crutch.”

“Hmm…” Bruce had replied quietly.

They sat in silence for a long moment again, Bruce drifting back into deep thought, that was until a warm hand covering his surprised him and jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I think you’ll talk about it eventually, B, he isn’t going to stay mad forever, and you still raised him.”

“I just hope he finds what he’s looking for… but it honestly… might be in his best interests to… to never see me again.” Bruce said, his own hand now covering his own mouth as he felt himself dangerously get close to breaking rule #1.

“I… I don’t want it to bother me, I don’t… I don’t want to think about it…” Bruce stammered.

Clark’s hand traveled up Bruce’s arm and he wrapped his arm around his shoulders pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s okay to be upset about it B… I’d be more concerned if you weren’t upset about it. He’s your son.”

“I don’t… I don’t think he sees me as his father, why would he?”

“B…” Clark said softly.

“I keep… loosing people, I don’t… I don’t know why… I don’t know why I keep…. I keep…” Bruce made a growl of frustration as his eyes began to water. “I’m… sorry.”

“It’s okay don’t apologize, you don’t have to apologize for feeling.”

“I … I can’ breathe…” Bruce stammered in-between gasps of trying to force himself to pull himself together.

“Don’t try to force yourself to stop,  It’s okay, B, really, just let it out, its okay…” Clark whispered calmly and softly.

“Batman doesn’t…”

“Forget Batman for a second, your more important. Besides! Who says what Batman can and can’t do?” Clark said pulling Bruce into an even tighter hug.

Bruce couldn’t help a sniffle. “I did. I have a rule-book and everything.”

Clark sighed and pressed his cheek against Bruce’s. “Of course you did you goofy-bat.”

Bruce grumbled but slowly closed his eyes and let himself feel Clark hold him as he slowly began to calm down and breathe again.

“I just want to be… better… I wish I had been better.”

“Well if you want to be 'better’ - which is not the word I’d pick by the way…  don’t leave out the possibility of talking to Dick once you’ve had some time apart… You both need time to sort yourselves out. And you could also start by not writing silly rules for yourself and holding yourself to an impossible standard.”

Bruce snorted. “If I don’t make the rules for Batman, who will.”

“Hmm.” Clark replied.

—

A week later, Clark visited Bruce again in the cave. He and Dick still hadn’t talked, or run into each other. It still… hurt. But Bruce was now open to talking when it was time, but now wasn’t the time.

“I got you a little present.” Clark said, once again hover-sitting next to Bruce.

Bruce raised his eyebrow at him. “What’s the occasion? I didn’t forget my birthday again, did I?”

“You’ve forgotten your own…” Clark began before shaking his head. “No, that’s not it, and the occasion is 'your my friend and I wanted to do something for you’.” He replied with a sheepish smile.

He handed Bruce a very carefully and meticulously black wrapped flat present with a yellow bow on top. Bruce had to smile a little on how it matched the Batman aesthetic, clearly, Clark had an attention to detail that he had to appreciate. Clark waited patiently as bruce went through his routine of very carefully unwrapping the gift to avoid ripping the paper and found a maroon colored notebook inside.

Bruce glanced up at Clark curiously before opening the notebook to find Clark’s hand-writing inside.

“Superman’s ”“'rules”“ for what Batman can and can’t do.”

Bruce smiled a little wider and kept reading.

Rule #1: Batman is allowed to cry.

Rule #2: It’s okay for Batman to not have everything figured out right away.

Rule #3:  Batman can have some fun and laugh sometimes because he has a smile and a laugh that lights up a room and has probably the cutest dimples I’ve ever seen.

Bruce’s heart skipped a few beats.

Rule #4: I’ll always be your friend, and I care about you, a lot… so Batman should never forget that.

Rule #4.5: I love you. Batman doesn’t have to feel the same way, but he should know that.

Bruce looked up at Clark with wide eyes. Clark was turned slightly away, face beet red.

“I know… I can’t help being a hopeless romantic, I’m sorry… but…”

“Clark… I…” Bruce’s words caught in his throat, heart feeling like it was going to fall out. “This is… really… really … sweet… thank you.”

Clark glanced back at Bruce finally with a little shy smile. “Your welcome.”

“I do have to add one little thing though…” Bruce said with a slightly cheeky look, getting out his pen.

Clark looked him over slightly startled “What’s that?”

Bruce quietly with a calm smile wrote down the words that had caught in his throat, but he wanted to say in one way or another anyway.

Rule #5: Batman loves Superman too… and thinks he should know that too.

He turned the book slightly so Clark could read the additional rule, he was incredibly amused by the way Clark lit up and looked so over-joyed he might actually start glowing.

“Do… Do you think maybe Batman could change his rule about no dating within the league?”

Bruce leaned forward with a hum. “Everyone else seems to break it all the time anyway so it might not be a very good rule anyway.”

Clark laughed. “The team is still together even with the drama it can cause from time to time.”

“Then I think I will get rid of that rule, and maybe Rule #6 - is "Batman can date” especially if I don’t want to break rule #3" Bruce stood as he and Clark quietly locked hands.

“That’s true, I’m going to hold you to that one especially.” Clark said decidedly.

“I always thought my laugh was scary… Is it also weird I didn’t even know I had dimples?” Bruce asked, feeling a little giddy for once.

“Well when you force any laugh its scary, but when I’ve seen you genuinely laugh before….” Clark almost looked a little wistful “It… makes me swoon a little…. it is kind of bad you didn’t know you have dimples B, but its okay.”

“Hmmm…” Bruce hummed. “Guess there’s still things for me to learn.”

“Guess Batman doesn’t know everything.” Clark teased playfully.

“No, and he doesn’t have to know everything, Rule #2.” Bruce replied now leaning against Clark slightly.

“Rule #7 that I just made up, there’s always still time to figure things out. And that’s okay.”

“That’s a good one, I have to write it down really quick.” Bruce said reaching for his pen.

—

Bruce handed Clark his old notebook as he replaced it with Clark’s sweet gesture of a rulebook, allowing Clark to flip through the old rules.

“Why Nachos specifically? Do you like Nachos?”

“I fucking love Nachos.” Bruce replied with a mournful sigh.

“Wow, good to know. Sounds like you have a sweet tooth too?”

“I do. It’s horrible.” Bruce argued.

“Oh no its not.”

“It is when you eat your feelings, and I don’t have super-metabolism, I didn’t get spend ages getting these rock hard abs only to fuck it up by filling myself up with all the nachos and sweet things I��ve always wanted to eat and forced myself not to.”

“Point taken, but for the record, you can  enjoy yourself and eat things you like. Besides, Alfred has told me you don’t eat enough anyway.”

Bruce grumbled. “Oh great, please tell me he hasn’t already shown you my baby pictures.”

Clark gasped. “No But I’m definitely going to ask him next time I talk to him.”

“Fuck.” Bruce groaned.

“Rule #35 Stop getting excited whenever Clark is around… you get excited when I’m around??” Clark said cheerfully.

“…. No….”

“B…”

“……..Yes.”

“Awww, B!”

Bruce mumbled and grumbled for a moment because he couldn’t help himself.

“That’s so sweet.”

“Your the sweet one here, don’t accuse me of such things.”

“You’re sweet too though! Sweetest bat around.”

“Clark.”

“Bruce.”

Unable to keep up his grumpy facade, Bruce smiled very slightly and sighed over-dramatically. “Well… thank you.”

They both locked eyes for a long moment, then jumped suddenly when Bruce’s phone dinged and scared the crap out of both of them, making them jump.

“Who the hell is…”

Bruce picked up his phone and looked at the name over the message that had been sent and froze.

“It’s Dick…”

Clark’s eyes grew wide and he floated forward slightly.

“Hey… idk if you want to talk about it. I talked to Barbara, I think we should. If you want, idk.”

Bruce immediately tapped the message open, wondered if he should wait so it didn’t seem like he was desperate or constantly checking his phone to see if Dick had texted him, then decided “fuck it” and answered anyway.

“Yeah, we should talk about it. Catch up. Let me know when/where works for you.”

Dick replied almost as fast as Bruce had. “You sure you don’t need to work around…. … work?”

“No. This is more important right now. Work can wait.”

“Okay… I get off work in an hour, can you get to Bludhaven by then? I’ll send you the address.”

Bruce found himself tilting his head, curious as to what job Dick had gotten since he quit as robin.

“Cool. I’ll be there. Hope your doing okay.”

“…Yeah… you too. See you then.”

Bruce looked up at Clark. “You were right… he wants to talk…”

Clark beamed at him and put his arms around his bat-boyfriend. “Good. I’m glad.”

“I…. thank you… so much Clark. I’m still worried I’ll mess it up but…”

“It’s going to be okay B, your going to be okay, he’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.”

Bruce leaned against Clark’s chest and sighed. “Yeah… It’s going to be okay…”

#Anonymous #prompt fill #my writing #superbat #batman #superman #superbats #clark kent #bruce wayne #angst and fluff #hurt and comfort

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 4/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language. 

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: Without going into too much detail, I’m moving to a twice-a-week posting schedule. Mental health and mental illness are truly fickle things. This is the only way I can control mine right now. If I’d had my way, I would’ve posted the rest of the story in one go and taken a few months away from all social media. This was the proposed solution. Thank you for all the support and love over the last five years. It’s been my favorite adventure, so far. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 4: Middle of the Road

October 25: Friday 

Friday is another night out at the Rabbit Hole, and for once Killian is there before her instead of the other way around. He’s in the middle of some animated story about lobsters, much to the amusement of those in attendance judging by their rapt expressions. There are two seats open at the table. One is the safe option, across from Killian and next to David. Or the other option is to sit at the head of this cacophony of tables and next to Killian directly. 

His gaze flicks over to her, as if he senses her thoughts, and as the story wraps up to the raucous laughter of their whole group, he puts on a satisfied little smile and lifts his hand in greeting. 

It looks as though he’s gotten the approval of both Snow and David, so that’s a mark in the right column. 

When her drink is set down in front of her, she wanders over, making a split second decision to sit at the head of the table. 

“Seems like I missed the best part of the evening,” she says as she settles in beside him.

“Long story short, the lobsters won the battle,” Killian tells her, smiling and sipping from the bottle in front of him. “How was your day at work, Swan?”

“David hit a new record in computer freeze-ups, so it was a little long.”

“It’s not my fault the computers are still running Windows 95,” David argues, his scowl not directed at Emma but at the ancient technology they’re currently running in the station. 

“And it’s not my fault you just decided this year that you wanted to start digitizing the last fifty years of records we have,” Emma retorts, losing the battle with herself and sticking her tongue out at David when he does the same to her. “Also, I would definitely argue that it is your fault that our equipment is so damn old.”

“Have you spoken to Regina about upgrade budgets?” This comes from the other end of the table, where Robin is seated, and almost every head swivels to look at him. “Ah, that’s right. You’re all terrified of my fiance. How silly of me to forget.” The blase tone has no offense to it; Robin is simply used to the stunned silence he gets at the obvious suggestion of asking Mayor Mills for budget increases in certain departments. It’s no big deal to him, the guy dating her, because one day he walked into her office to talk to her about a playground rebuild and suddenly they were seen everywhere.

Of course, back then, everywhere they were seen included heavy amounts of arguing. Then, suddenly, one day they were everywhere and making out. So that was an interesting development for a sleepy little town. 

“You know, I forgot that since she started dating you she’s been much easier to talk to,” Emma mentions. “Maybe I’ll schedule an appointment with her and ask about getting some upgrades in the station.”

“It’s best that you do this one on your own. She’s still mad at me for dragging a pack of dogs through those daffodils she had in front of Town Hall,” David admits.

“Only a little, mate,” Robin adds, winking when David looks at him. 

“Isn’t it rather handy to have the expat club around, love?” Killian nudges her with his elbow when he says it, grinning wide when she makes eye contact.

“It’s not so bad, I guess,” she responds with her own smile back. 

After a couple hours, the length of the day starts to weigh on her and she can feel her eyes drooping shut even with the group still in full swing. 

“Okay, I’m calling it a night,” she announces to their side of the table. 

“I’ll walk with you, Swan, if you’ll allow me. I’m at the end of my night, as well.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue to dismiss him, but Snow catches her eye and gives her one of her meaningful looks. She gives one of her own back, indicating that yeah, fine, okay she gets the message.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she says lamely, instead of whatever objection had been waiting.

Outside, they both take a moment to adjust to the quiet and the wind, with Emma pulling out her beanie and pulling it on snugly.

“I need to remember my own,” Killian says, indicating the hat on her head. “You’d think I would be better suited for cold weather given the track record of my home country.”

“After I moved back it was a struggle to get used to the temperatures again,” Emma admits.

“Moved back?”

“From Florida. I spent three years down there,” she says, leaving out all the rest of the story on purpose. But the answer seems to suit Killian just fine. 

“I never officially lived anywhere else until I moved here,” he tells her as they walk down the street. “Visited a lot of places in the Navy, but official, permanent addresses were all in the same town.”

“The Navy, huh?”

“Aye. One day you’ll get to hear all about my sordid but charming history,” he says, a teasing note to the words. 

It’s so easy, walking the short distance with him. She almost tells him she can take the rest alone when they hit their corner but she resists, instead leading him again along the path to her building. He stops when she does, still standing a respectable distance away. 

“Thanks for walking with me,” she says quietly. In truth, she wants to ask him up for a cup of coffee or something, but she can’t remember the last time she’s had a man in her home and now doesn’t feel like a good time to try when it’s getting late and she wasn’t lying about how tired she is.

“Always a pleasure. Goodnight.”

She responds in kind, itching like she did that first time he walked her home to reach out, to have some form of physical signature to end the evening. 

He’s just turning away when she moves again, grabbing his arm and going for a quick kiss on his cheek but he turns and the peck ends landing right on the corner of his mouth. Rather than sink into the comforting embrace of awkwardness, she stands her ground against the urge to run.

“Thank you again,” he tells him.

“For what?”

“Everything. Walking me home. Understanding. Not pushing me. I’m trying to get on the same level, and I wanted you to know that.” 

“All at your own pace, Swan. Goodnight,” he says again, his smile tinged with peace.

She makes sure to give him one last wave and smile when she gets to the door, liking the way this night ended much more than the last time he walked her home. 

-x- October 30: Wednesday

While Storybrooke is a small town, it doesn’t mean Mayor Mills has an abundance of time. As such, Emma can’t get an appointment until Wednesday. It’s something to break up the monotony of the day, however, so she doesn’t mind. Right before lunch time, she heads to the stately office building and waits her turn behind various townspeople requests.

It’s such a simple meeting, with professional courtesies and barely any spare chatting or gossip. Regina’s never really been the type, even before she got together with Robin. While he’s certainly made her more approachable, the meeting is still over about ten minutes after it begins, and Emma comes away from it with more than she anticipated.

Armed with her upgrades budget and a wishlist a mile long, Emma heads outside and starts walking back to the station. Across the street is NeverEndings and she slows down a bit, weighing the decision to go in. Ultimately, the idea of surprising Killian and maybe asking him if he wants to grab lunch with her is what sends her crossing, pulling open the heavy wooden door and rushing into the reception area. 

The last couple days have been really nice with him. They walk together in the mornings, and sometimes she loops her arm through his while they cross the street. She has snuck him two kisses outside of the library so that Granny doesn’t see it when he leaves her at the front of the diner. 

And today, she didn’t even have to stop at the diner. Instead, Killian was waiting at their corner with a second mug of coffee. The least she can do is give him his afternoon caffeine fix. 

It turns out the office building is a little more active during the day compared to when she brought him his dinner. She stands there in shock for a moment, remembering that there are people that work here that aren’t Killian, or Will, or Robin, and trying to decide if this really was a good idea. 

She’s just about to turn around and head out again when the secretary, a woman named Anna, calls out to her. 

“It’s nice to see you, Emma! It’s been too long! Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Um, I’m actually here to see Killian? Killian Jones?”

“He’s in his office. Do you need me to take you back?”

“No, thanks. I know the way. Thanks Anna.”

It looks like Anna is about to launch into something else to say - the woman has a penchant for talking far too much but is one of the nicest people she’s ever met - but Emma moves quickly beyond the desk and back towards the office she knows. 

She weaves her way through the halls again, finding Killian’s door wide open this time. He’s not alone, however, and she startles when she sees a young teenager sitting in the chair across from Killian’s desk. Like he can sense she’s there, the man in question glances away from his computer screen and makes eye contact with her. 

“Ah, Swan! Good afternoon. Henry, just give me one moment,” he tells the young man in the chair, starting to rise from his own. 

“Sorry, I didn’t -” 

The boy turns then, curious brown eyes landing on her, so familiar that it steals all the breath in her lungs momentarily. Even his hair looks the same color as Neal’s. 

“I didn’t know you were busy. Never mind,” she says quickly, turning from the door and all but running back out through the front doors before Killian even has a chance to finish standing up.

“Emma?” 

His voice follows her down the hallway, but she doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even stop to consider what this may look like to him. The only thing she’s concerned with is getting away from the memories she wishes she could forget. 

Her feet take her to Granny’s - something about this place is the heart of Storybrooke and so everyone always ends up here one way or another - but it’s mostly a trip for comfort rather than necessity this time.

In that regard, the proprietress must sense her needs, because she’s handing over a bear claw fresh from the fryer while Emma waits for her usual lunch to cook. Directly after, a mug of hot cocoa is placed in front of her, cinnamon already sprinkled over the whipped cream. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Same as always,” Granny says without slowing down in her movements behind the counter. “Dessert’s on me. The hot chocolate is from that one over there.”

Emma glances to where she’s pointing, expecting to see David or Ruby or anyone besides Will settling into a booth along the windows. He raises his own mug and turns back to his conversation with Belle, but she has a feeling that’s not the end of the moment just yet. 

She’s halfway through pushing her lunch around her plate when Will wanders over and props against the counter where she’s seated. 

“Did she put the rum in it like I asked?” he asks, pointing to the mug in her hands. Suddenly, she wonders if there was a different tang to the usual comfort today but Will’s smile is one she recognizes. “Only joking, lass. I know you’re on the clock. But surely you could’ve used it with the way you looked when you ran from the office.”

“You saw that?” She wants to cringe, to run away and hide again, but Will isn’t judging her so it’s not the end of the world. 

“Sped right past me as I was on my way back to Killian’s office. You know him and I go way back?”

“I thought you just met when he moved here.”

“Hardly. Met right before he joined the Navy through some literary club thing he was in. He was interning at the London branch when this position opened up and I told Robin to hire him and stop having all those brains wasted on fetching coffee and being a gopher.”

“Leaving England for a junior editor position had to be a big decision. Why would he come all this way for a spot he probably would’ve gotten if he stuck it out over there?”

“That’s all his story to tell you. But there is something I’ll tell you about Killian,” Will starts, and Emma won’t lie and say her heart doesn’t stutter at the words. She’s expecting the worst, as always, but she nods at him to continue.

“He hasn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Had his heart broken clean in two. If I’m not mistaken, that’s something the two of you have in common,” he says gently. There’s something about the way he says it. This is a level of friendship they’ve never crossed, preferring witty banter and faked hatred to show their friendly affection for each other instead.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t know you’re telling me this?” Emma asks.

“No. Probably tell me to mind me own bloody business. But it’s funny. About a month and a half ago he started smiling the way he did, before life got to him.” He gives her a look at that, before Belle is back by his side. Her fingers link with his like she doesn’t even know she’s doing it, and the sight makes something in Emma’s stomach clench with want. 

They turn to leave her, but Emma calls back to Will before he gets too far.

“Thanks. I’ll try not to be too mean to you from now on,” she says.

“Bollocks! That’s half the fun of it!” he exclaims, grinning ear to ear and turning around as Emma laughs. 

She doesn’t particularly want to return to the station but knows she should go back to work. The rest of her day is spent intently focusing on the files she’s copying. When David leaves for the day, she tells him to go on ahead. If he’s worried, he knows better than to push for information right now, which works just fine for her. She’ll talk when she’s ready.

When the last file of her stack is completed, she finally shuts everything down, looking up to find Mulan kicked back at her desk and reading a book. 

“Never thought you’d give up,” the other woman mutters without looking away. “Go home. David delivered food to your apartment over an hour ago.”

“I’m going. But not because you told me to,” Emma points out. She stands, bending and twisting and stretching until all the pops and cracks from her back have helped ease some of the pain she feels. 

With more amiable separating words from both of them, Emma finally leaves Mulan to take over the next shift, knowing that Phillip will probably be in after his aptly named son, Phillip, is put to bed for the evening. Her walk home is trudging, at best. Even knowing that David dropped off food for her isn’t helping pick up her feet any. 

The shock of seeing a kid look that much like Neal is enough to sour a whole day, if not the whole rest of the week. 

It’s not just that Neal left her, and that he left in the middle of the night while she slept, but that he did it because he thought Emma was pregnant. There was no indication that she even was. She had a stomach bug, three days of her head in the toilet which was preceded by her mentioning she had a craving for Granny’s grilled cheese sandwiches and a chocolate milkshake from back home.

Not even bothering to do the math or ask about her cycle, he just assumed that the cravings and the vomiting meant she was pregnant. They’d had sex once. For roughly thirty seconds until he complained that she was too tight and he pulled out. And he’d been wearing a condom. 

The anger of it starts fueling her into moving again, and she almost rushes right past Granny’s when she hears the calling of her name. 

“Evening, Swan!” Killian greets her from where he’s kicked back in one of the chairs on the patio, even though it’s far too cold to be sitting out here like that.

She waves, something jerky and unsure, and keeps moving along. She had no intentions of waltzing into his office and then fleeing like it was the scene of a crime this morning, and it’s mostly embarrassment that has her feet moving quicker. 

“Come on, Swan. Don’t make a man drink alone.”

“Not in the mood for a drink. Or a man,” she says, half-zoned out and just wanting to get home to try to process the rest of her emotions. 

“Emma, sweetheart?” he asks, hurt evident in his voice, and when she doesn’t slow down he gets up from the chair he was in and moves after her. “Wait a moment, Swan. What’s happened? What did I do between this morning and when you stopped by my office?” 

The fact that he thinks it’s his fault is what has her slowing minimally and letting him catch her around the forearm with his prosthetic hook. He uses that momentum to coax her to turn around, and the look on his face is finally what makes her cave. He doesn’t deserve the brunt of her fuckery. He’s been so patient through everything else, and while any other man in her life would’ve probably run at her first change of heart, this one has stood nearby with no pressure, no conditions asked. She fights through that heavy feeling in her chest, past the lump in her throat, so she can maybe even try to explain what happened. 

“It’s not you. I just… was reminded of my past and why I’m not good at this kind of thing.

“You’ve got to trust that I have no ill intentions here.”

“You think this is because I don’t trust you?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course I trust you. But it doesn’t change the fact that everyone I’ve ever been with has left me behind.” It’s probably the first time Emma has ever admitted any of this out loud, and suddenly what she thought was just a slight case of emotions feels a lot more like a boulder sitting in her stomach. For the tiniest moment, she’s afraid she’ll start crying. Her voice is almost garbled when she speaks again, fighting past the emotions welling up. “Neal, Graham… even Walsh. They left me in one way or another.” He doesn’t know them yet, doesn’t know what they did, but letting their names out into the open takes away some of their power.

Moving just a bit closer, Killian holds eye contact with her, probably just as much for him as for her. “Well, love. You don’t have to worry about me. I may leave this area on occasions, but I’ve no intention of leaving you unless you tell me to.”

It could just be an empty promise, but coming from Killian it sounds like a genuine one. She nods, just a fraction of her chin tilting down, to show him she understands. He moves forward the rest of the way, his intent clear without being overpowering. And then he’s kissing her, his arm coming snugly around her waist. 

It’s different from their first kiss and the small affectionate gestures they’ve shared recently. There’s something more than intention behind it and without the spontaneous factor involved, it’s calmer if not less intense. It doesn’t occur to her to be ashamed that they are standing in the middle of the street because how can she care about anything else when Killian is doing his best to remind her what human connection feels like with each subsequent press of his lips? 

This is enough for now, the start of a new routine for them. She always just assumed he was some nerdy dude with an office job, but really, Killian is like twenty things all wrapped into one and she’s discovering she’s eager to uncover each layer of him one at a time. 

With that thought, her final hang-ups fall away and she surrenders instead to the warm lips attached to the man that has changed her mind about dating. She thinks to tell him that, but then he’s shifting, his hand sliding into her hair as his left arm pulls her closer and then she’s all but crawling into his jacket. He’s warm, chasing away the chill she’s felt not just because of the temperatures but because of the hole she let herself sink into earlier. Chest to chest, she can feel the sound that rumbles through him when she wraps her arms around his waist. 

There’s a part of her that wants to know, desperately, why she was resisting this - resisting him, but she knows there’s still miles to go before all the dark spots fall away from her memories. This is a good start, though. It’s just them, figuring things out and also making out like they’re a couple of teenagers.

“There are better places to do that than the middle of the road.” It’s Granny’s voice that springs them apart. 

“Seriously?!” Emma says, looking over Killian’s shoulder at the older woman. 

Granny just gives her one of her patented looks and goes back inside, leaving them alone again.

“Would it be all right if I walked you home?”

“Sure. I’d like that,” Emma answers, taking his hand as they start heading that way. “Are you dressing up for Halloween tomorrow?”

“Aye. Quite the get-up I’ve got, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

He hums his agreement, but not saying anything more about it. “How about you, love? What have you cooked up for a costume?”

“I don’t normally dress up,” Emma admits. “But I think I can pull something together easily enough.” Even as she says it, she’s thinking of the parts of a suit she has at home. Surely she can pull that off with a couple accessories, right? It’s too good of an idea not to try, and so even though she's sad to say goodnight to Killian after the moment they’ve just had, she’s also excited to get inside and go tearing through her closet.

She makes sure to thoroughly kiss him goodnight before she does, however.

-x-

Chapter 5

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #csrt

[vikingpoteto]

we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 2 on AO3

______________________

Relationships:  (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all. ________________________

When Tim wakes up, he thinks he’s hallucinating. Partly because his almost everything hurts, and whatever else left feels tender and sore. Mostly because he thinks Robin is rescuing him. That can’t be right, though. Dick Grayson hasn’t been Robin  — or that small  — for many years. Jason Todd certainly hasn’t…

Tim groans. Jason. He was supposed to solve things. He was supposed to fix things up after Jason was gone. Deal with the damage when Jason got back. Give Jason another chance because he knew Robin  — his Robin  — couldn’t be that bad.

“Come on, you deadweight,” Robin mumbles. “How pathetic can you get? You don’t have any mortal wounds. What are you doing, napping on the dirty ground like that?”

Well, that certainly is not Dick Grayson. First because Dick could never sound that obnoxious. And the small detail that Tim knows Dick is an adult man now.

“Damian…?” he mutters numbly.

“We got ya, mate,” another familiar voice, this one lot friendlier. Squire.

Tim is out again in a matter of seconds, utterly confused about the fact that Squire is there and Damian is dressed as Robin. All he knows is that he failed utterly and completely. He was supposed to fix things, and somehow he made everything worse. Everything that went downhill started with Tim Stupid Drake letting his useless ass get into a mess he was never prepared for. Jack used to tell him to be proud of himself in the same breath he told him his arrogance was unbecoming. Children are supposed to be seen, not heard.

He lets unconsciousness take him. His last thought is that he hopes he doesn’t wake up, so that he doesn’t have to deal with all the consequences of his mistakes.

Then Tim wakes up, because Tim can never get what he wants. At first, he doesn’t remember where he is and why everything hurts so much. Did he oversleep? That would make sense. He found out that, if he went for too long without sleep, by the time he eventually crashed his body would stay unconscious for way too long, and he would wake up all stiff and sore.

With a bit of effort, he starts opening his eyes. The first thing he notices is that he’s at the cave. It wouldn’t be the first time he passed out there, but…

Oh, that’s right. He fought Jason again. He got his ass handed back to him again. He barely remembered what happened; all he knew is that he took a huge risk and it didn’t pay off. Dick must have saved him after all  — leaving that note letting him know Tim was going to do something stupid was, in retrospect, actually smart.

He blinks slowly and turns to the side when he hears familiar voices. If Dick is coming to check on him, Tim must make sure to apologize for his recklessness and thank him profusely. He knew there was a huge chance of him being a hindrance rather than useful, but he took the chance anyway.

Instead of Dick, however, it’s Batman who walks into his field of vision. Tim freezes. So he finally accepted it. Dick decided to take the cowl after all. Tim almost smiles in relief  — the fact that his jaw is throbbing certainly keeps his expression in check  — because that’s a good thing, right? If his mess of a plan resulted in Dick finally stepping up to the task, then it had been worth it.

(Part of him feels a little guilty. Dick repeatedly said that he didn't want to be Batman but... This is fine, right? Dick is the only one who can. The only one good enough. This will be good for him, too… right?)

It doesn’t look like Dick noticed Tim is awake. He walks to the batmobile with practiced fortitude and, for a moment, he looks so much like Bruce that Tim feels a lump in his throat. The fanboy in him also laments that he’s about to miss Dick’s first patrol as Batman  — it has to be the first, there’s no way a simple beatdown got Tim asleep for longer than a night  — and he considers calling out and asking to tag along anyway, as unlikely as it is that he’ll get an yes.

Then a smaller person stalks into view, and the lump in Tim’s throat positively doubles in size: it’s Robin. Robin, wearing a smaller version of Tim’s uniform. Younger, newer, stronger, better. The arrogance in his posture is familiar, and even if it wasn’t there are very few suspects. Damian Wayne is wearing the Robin uniform. Damian Wayne is getting in the batmobile with Dick Grayson. A new Batman, a new Robin. Tim struggles to sit up, but neither hero notices him. They take off, the sound of the engine revving up drowning Tim’s pathetic attempt at speaking up.

“Master Timothy!”

Strong hands grab him by the shoulders, hauling him up before Tim even realizes he was falling from the cot. He lets Alfred delicately adjust him back into a semi-comfortable position for half  a second before he springs back up.

“What — ” he croaks, his voice horribly hoarse from lack of use. “Al…”

“My boy, breathe,” Alfred commands, again holding him still. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

Except nothing is alright. Tim resists and, hurt as he is, he could’ve easily got himself free. Not without hurting Alfred, though, and Tim doesn’t think he could do that even if his life depended on it. Instead, he squirms uselessly until Alfred finally manages to push him back into his pillow.

“Master Timothy, don’t make me tie you to the bed. You know I’m not above it if you’re being unreasonable.”

“Batman and Robin left,” Tim protests, his voice betraying his confusion. It almost sounds as though he’s in fear.

Something flashes across Alfred’s face  — worry?  — but it vanishes fast enough, giving place to the expression a father wears while gently, but firmly chastising his child.

“If you let me check your vitals, I’ll gladly inform you of what happened while you were unconscious. Do we have a deal? Will you stay put if I let you go?”

Tim slowly nods. Alfred takes a step back. The boy sits up, but he does so carefully. A sign that he’s tired of lying down rather than a rebellion. Alfred accepts that with a satisfied smile before turning to the medical supplies that had been carefully placed by Tim’s cot. Vitals check  is a process they’ve done enough times that neither needs to pay full attention to it.

“So?” Tim requests. Demands.

“You’ve been resting for almost 17 hours. You don’t have any serious wounds, so I reckon your prolonged rest was caused by sheer exhaustion rather than actual injuries.” Alfred gives him a pointed look.

Tim ignores it. “What happened to Jason?”

Those words have an effect on the butler, whose shoulders go stiff even if he does his best to hide his discomfort.

“I’m sure Master Dick can tell you in better detail when he returns. The short version is… we don’t know where he is.” At this point, he pauses, as though measuring his words carefully, or as though he doesn’t want to admit what he has to tell Tim next. Tim doesn’t pressure him.“He fought Master Dick and lost. We believe he thought you were gone. Master Damian was able to rescue you, thankfully.”

Tim doesn’t think Jason was stupid enough to think he was dead. Especially because Tim wasn’t even trying to pretend to be dead. He could’ve. Bruce had taught him how. It didn’t even occur to him to do so, because, despite everything, it was Jason. Jason was a Robin. He was angry, sure, and Tim didn’t fully blame him. Not after he heard Bruce’s testament.

However, for once, Jason isn’t Tim’s main concern.

“Damian didn’t rescue me,” he says. “Robin did.”

Alfred pretends the task of making sure Tim doesn’t have a concussion is a lot more demanding than it really is. He’s clearly avoiding the accusation in Tim’s voice.

“Seems like you’re all good, my boy. Your head is more resistant than it seems, it looks like. I should warn you that one of your teeth has been broken, though.”

“Alfred…”

The butler sighs. “It’s not my place to tell you about Master Dick’s decisions, Master Timothy,” he says and Tim’s stomach sinks. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you once he returns.”

Except it is Alfred’s place. It is exactly his place, his right. Tim never quite understood why Alfred chooses to stand on the sidelines. Alfred knows damn well he isn’t simply an employee, he’s family. His snide remarks and gentle chastising are one thing, but, when push comes to shove, Alfred tends to only offer advice when asked for. He lets them sort themselves out. If he wanted, he could do more, get the others to do more, or at least Tim is almost sure of it. Could it be that he got tired of being ignored by Bruce by the time the kids joined the crusade? Does it have anything to do with Jason’s death, like most of the problems in the family seem to revolve around?

At another time, Tim would’ve asked. As it is now, there is something gnawing at Tim’s gut, a feeling of inadequacy he hadn’t felt in quite a few years. When was the last time? When he was just starting as Robin? When Jason first tried to kill him? It was a swarm of butterflies in his stomach, and not the good kind, that started bugging him when Damian appeared but it didn’t bloom into an all out ache until tonight.

Tim felt the urge to go home as though he was overstaying his welcome in a stranger’s house, but his ride was late and there was nothing he could do about it. As though he was a meddling boy forcing himself into the life of a grieving man against his will. As though he had to work twice as hard, be three times as useful to make up for the fact that he was an unwanted appendix.

He doesn’t say anything else until Alfred clears him. He takes the pain medicine the butler gives him, even though he didn’t need them. He can barely feel the soreness of his body by now.

The next hours are a blur. Tim knows he takes off the rest of the uniform. He has half a mind to cringe at how painful it must have been to Alfred to treat him while he’s wearing Batman’s colors. He changes into his own clothes before going upstairs.

His room at Wayne manor doesn’t look like anything like his former room. His space used to be sacred, papers scared around among piles of dirty clothing and old comics. Some of the contents were incriminating, notes of cases Tim had no business meddling in, but it didn’t matter because uncaring maids wouldn’t bother reading and neither would his parents. The only things Tim bothered hiding were the pictures he took of Batman and Robin, because those were not his secrets to be reckless with.

Looking around at the room he’s occupying, there’s no mess on the floor. No dirty laundry in sight. His photography gear is neatly put away on a shelf  — when was the last time he took pictures just for fun?  — and his school books are lined up for easy access. Even the pile of papers on the desk were organized in a chaotic way.  It looks less like a room where you live in and more like a guest room. Like when you’re staying over at a friend’s house and you’re overzealous of your belongings to make sure your presence is not a hassle.

He thinks of his room back at Titans Tower. He had no secrets there, no worries about hiding documents or anything of the sort. Even when his teammates didn’t know his real name, they knew him. He was Robin and that was enough. Being Robin was enough.

(Except Young Justice is no more and Tim doesn’t think they can get back together. Not with Kon and Bart gone.)

Tim wonders if that means he always knew he wasn’t meant to stay. Then he shakes his head. This is his family. It isn’t that different from when he lived with his father, after all, the only difference is that then there were less people minding his secrets, so he didn’t have to be as careful. He is Tim Wayne now. This is all he has.

He does have it, right?

Dick said they’d be okay. Dick was the first person to fully accept him. Maybe it had started out of misplaced love, a way to compensate that he hadn’t been there for Jason, but Tim accepted what he could get and Dick had been his brother since.

Tim stays in his room for too long, but it feels like no time has passed when he hears the telltale noise of the grandfather clock moving downstairs. Someone is leaving the cave.

The boy hesitates, thinking himself selfish for a moment. A voice in his mind that sounds painfully like Kon’s tells him to stop being stupid. Tim reminds himself that this is his home, this is his family… This is his life . It’s not perfect, but you only work with what you get.

It’s not surprising to him that Dick’s at the computer when he gets into the cave. Bruce drilled into their heads that you always write a report as soon as you’re able. Unless you’re injured, reporting after patrol takes priority over everything. Even Tim and Barbara, known for their photographic memory, weren’t exempt of that rule.

It’s not surprising.

Then why is Tim so angry? Dick doesn’t owe him anything. Surely Alfred told him Tim was fine. Checking on him was unnecessary and.. and it was what Dick would’ve done a couple of months ago.

“Hey,” Tim calls and it sounds harsher than he meant.

Dick startles before turning around. It’s somehow unsettling to see the man in the Bat cowl show such a human emotion and that somehow makes Tim angrier.

“Tim,” Dick starts, the shadow of a smile on his lips. “Alfred said…”

“You gave my old uniform to Damian,” Tim cuts him off.

This is not what he planned. He was supposed to ask Dick for an explanation calmly. There’s now another voice in his mind  — should he be worried about those?  — and this one sounds like Janet Drake’s telling him that it’s unbecoming to bark like that. He should keep his emotions in check. And yet.

“You said we’d be okay,” he grits out. “My entire life has burnt down. Again. I don’t call this okay, Dick. ”

And this is Dick’s problem, how? Tim wonders. His mind’s Kon tells him that Dick is his brother. His mind’s Jack Drake tells him real men don’t whine like that.

Dick sighs. “He’s my responsibility now. You’re not my protege, Tim, you’re my equal. My closest ally. You’ll be okay. But him? You know better than anyone that left on his own, he’s going to kill again. You have to understand…”

“I don’t,” Tim cuts him off again, unusually impatient. This isn’t selfish, right? This is his. He knows it, because other than the mission... “This is all I have now.”

“Oh,” another voice joins them, “you’re still here?”

You’ve got to be kidding.

Tim turns around and sees red. There’s the demon child in Tim’s colors spewing crap about upgrading security to keep out outsiders. Tim knows he says something, but he doesn’t remember what (he hopes he didn’t reveal anything he didn’t want Dick to know) and he tries to leave. (He can’t bear to see that.) Damian keeps running his mouth. (Tim already knows he doesn’t belong, maybe a part of him always knew). Dick doesn’t intervene.

Not until Tim is trying to knock a tooth out of the brat’s gargantuan mouth.

The message is clear: Tim served his purpose. He isn’t a priority anymore.

When he storms off, there are no more meddling voices in his mind but his own. He can tell Dick is calling his name and he remembers a time in which he thought he was temporary. At first he had asked Dick to come back, only taking the mantle of Robin when Dick told him to. Tim accepted it, deciding he would be Robin for as long as Batman needed him and retire as soon as someone more fit of the mantle arrived.

This has always been the plan. It’s no one’s fault but Tim’s that he had forgotten it. That he allowed a temporary arrangement to take over his life - to the point where, not that the time is up, he’s left on his own. That the rightful owner took back a mantle Tim had borrowed.

Tim used to be alone all the time. This isn’t uncharted territory.

#red robin #tim drake #nighwting #dick grayson #batfam #damian wayne #robin #poteto writing #batfam fanfic #we don't have to dance

[dottie-wan-kenobi]

I loveeee all the songs u chose for Tim!!! Can u maybe do a post or smth explaining why cus it’s so interesting seeing the choice behind these songs

Hi yes I can!! I’m not gonna do all of them here (I can def do the rest if you’d like!!) bc that’s just a Lot all at once lol. Also I might have typos and I apologize but dkjsfhakh I have bandaids on my fingers and it’s hard to type :^/

Disclaimer: some of these songs fit a lot better than other ones

Hard Times by Paramore

I chose this song bc it’s abbout being sad, but the tone is upbeat and happy. Something I’ve noticed abt Tim is that he is (usually) functionally depressed. Like, I read an article about high functioning depression, and it said that a lot of people who have it have a hole in their life – that they can have a job (and Tim does, being either CEO or Red Robin or both), a partner (who I like to think of as Kon), and be part of a family, maintaining this happy/upeat facade, but if you ask them what they do for fun…they usually can’t answer that. And I don’t think Tim can. When he was younger, he could, but what now? 

Fave Lyric: “Walking around / With my little rain cloud / Hanging over my head/ And it ain’t coming down / Where do I go? / Gimme some sort of sign / You hit me with lightning! / Maybe I’ll come alive”

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

I chose this bc I can picture Tim, during a low moment like when Kon or Bruce died, just falling apart and thinking he’s not going to survive it, isn’t strong enough, had something to do with their deaths happening,,, etc. Also there’s a line that references anxiety and like lmao that’s Tim!

Fave Lyric: “Tremble for yourself, my man, / You know that you have seen this all before / Tremble, little lion man, / You’ll never settle any of your scores / Your grace is wasted in your face, / Your boldness stands alone among the wreck / Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck”

Heroes (we could be) by Alesso feat. Tove Lo

I chose this bc Tim needed a happy song and also because this has such Young Justice vibes !!!! This is Tim and his friends having fun, roaming around, kicking bad guy ass together!! Actually upon looking at the lyrics again, it’s both YJ and Batman & Robin. It just encompasses Tim’s early days of being a hero I think, the happy carefree nature and the bravery and the hope

Fave Lyric: “Everyday people do everyday things but I / Can’t be one of them / I know you hear me now, we are a different kind / We can do anything”

Burn The House Down by AJR

Tbh I mostly chose this bc its a bop and I think he would sing along to it. BUT I also think this kind of represents his life as a public figure/celeb??? And if I wanna go even further, I think it could represent him when he’s older and more confident, with a better self esteem and maybe a lil less depressed (which I hope is in the cards for his future). Also it talks about lying a lot???? I’m sorry, I don’t have a good analysis for this one lmao

Fave Lyric: “Way up way up we go / Been up and down that road / Way up way up, oh no / We gon’ burn the whole house down / Watch me stand in the line / You’re only serving lies / You’ve got something to hide / We gon’ burn the whole house down”

Don’t Let Me Down by The Chainsmokers feat. Daya

I chose this bc it reminded me of Tim and Dick. I’m of the opinion that Tim getting fired from Robin was the right choice and that Dick wasn’t being cruel or anything like that at all, but I also think that Tim probably saw it that way which is valid. So it’s like, to him, Dick was his big brother who was basically always there for him, and then suddenly… he’s not. And everything else going on in his life starts to suck dramatically, and not having his big brother makes it worse, and he feels betrayed. Meanwhile Dick really is on his side, life is just also terrible for him too so they can’t be as close as they were when Tim was Robin. It can also be about Bruce or Kon tbh – just, wanting one of them to be there and they’re not.

Fave Lyric: “Crashing, hit a wall / Right now I need a miracle / Hurry up now, I need a miracle / Stranded, reaching out / I call your name but you’re not around”

More under the cut!!

Don’t Play by Halsey

This…. I chose this bc I really love the celebrity versions of the Bats, and also how competent Tim can be, and this song brings both of those together. Lol this could also be like…what other people think the Bats/Tim think like?? “Don’t play with me, I’m rich and will fuck you up” kinda thing. This is one of the ones that fits less well than the others but I still get Tim vibes from it so I’m keeping it

Fave Lyric: “Tryna take back what you say to me / I don’t give a damn what you say to me / There ain’t no time for games with me”

Over My Head (Cable Car) by The Fray

I get the feeling that after bad shit happens to Tim, he feels the way this song shows. I haven’t read much YJ so I can’t be sure, but I get the feeling that Tim, no matter what the truth is, feels like he’s alone and there’s no one who will help him. Obviously that can be tied back to his childhood and how he had to take care of himself, and so when there are people who actually do wanna help him he doesn’t see it?? And he’s down on himself so he’s probably thinking “they don’t want to help me, and I can’t blame them”

Fave Lyric: “But that’s how it’s got to be / It’s coming down to nothing more than apathy / I’d rather run the other way than stay and see / The smoke and who’s still standing when it clears” 

Icarus by Bastille

Okay not so much the drinking aspect of this song but EVERYTHING ELSE. I even used one of the lyrics for a fic title. Basically my thoughts here are: 1) everyone looks to the Robins and sees how much they do and it’s just A Lot, 2) Tim knows Jason died and so he probably thinks that’s in his future too even if Dick survived, and 3) Tim is doing a lot and feeling a lot and trying to protect himself and his feelings, which is hard work especially for someone so young

Fave Lyric: “Living beyond your years / Acting out all their fears / You feel it in your chest”

Needed Me by Rihanna

Again,,,, the Competence. I love that shit. I love BAMF!Bats, and tbh I think this could apply to more than just Tim, but I picked it for him bc of the first lyric!! This is also one of those ones that doesn’t fit super well but djkhfjkdshah I think this could really fit an AU Tim where he’s like. More morally gray. Not necessarily a bad guy but just more confident, more arrogant maybe, and more jaded from the hero-ing life

Fave Lyric: “I was good on my own, that’s the way it was, that’s the way it was / You was good on the low for a faded fuck, on some faded love / Shit, what the fuck you complaining for? / Feeling jaded, huh?”

What I’ve Done by Linkin Park

Okay I think this fits a lot of different things: his actions after Kon’s death, his and Damian’s relationship, the lies he’s told (to ppl like Steph, his dad, Tam?), his relationship with Bruce maybe?? I can also see it as him thinking on who he was as a kid – a stalker basically lmao, but ultimately harmless – versus who he is now – a skilled vigilante who’s definitely not harmless. Stark difference there. Also he’s forgiving himself, which is something I think is important for somebody with a low self view

Fave Lyric: “In this farewell / There’s no blood / There’s no alibi / ‘Cause I’ve drawn regret / From the truth / Of a thousand lies”

Tell Me You Love Me by Demi Lovato

I chose this because I think Tim is fucked up by the neglect he suffered in his childhood. I think parts of this song can be directed at his parents, the Batfam, his partner(s). He’s afraid that they’ll leave him and he needs the reassurance. Whether or not he gets it is another matter but kdsjfjkdsah. Really, I think this is all just what he’s thinking, and NOT what he’s saying. He needs the reassurance, yes, but he’s not actually asking for it because he doesn’t know how

Fave Lyric: “Bad at love, no, I’m not good at this”

bellyache by Billie Eilish

When I first added this to his playlist I somehow didn’t realize it was about a murderer but dkjfhkjshjkah whatever I’m keeping it. Let’s just go with this is a song about being fucked up (in whatever sense u wanna take that as) and it’s not happy? But like the first one, it’s upbeat and positive. I think the happy sound hiding the less pretty truth is something that explains Tim a lot. Also its a bop and he might sing along to it

Fave Lyric: “Everything I do / The way I wear my noose / Like a necklace / I wanna make ‘em scared / Like I could be anywhere / Like I’m reckless”

Migraine by Twenty One Pilots

Just Another Song About Tim’s Abysmal Mental Health

Fave Lyric: “Behind my eyelids are islands of violence / My mind ship-wrecked / This is the only land my mind could find / I did not know it was such a violent island / Full of tidal waves, suicidal crazed lions / They’re trying to eat me, blood running down their chin / And I know that I can fight or I can let the lion win / I begin to assemble what weapons I can find / 'Cause sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind”

Fake Love by Drake

I hate Drake but kjdsfkjdsfhajh this goes back to a few things. His celebrity and how he’s seen/treated differently by others because of it, his low self view and the paranoia that people aren’t really there for him no matter what the truth might be, how he sees things others wouldn’t, his relationships with people like Damian and Bruce. I think he’s more forgiving than this song would imply, so maybe this is also for that AU Tim I mentioned above???

Fave Lyric: “I’ve been down so long it look like up to me / They look up to me / I got fake people showin’ fake love to me / Straight up to my face, straight up to my face”

Six Feet Under by Billie Eilish

TIMKON TIMKON TIMKON. Post Kon’s death TimKon and Tim is grieving and trying to forget bc it’s so painful!!!!!!

Fave Lyric: “Our love is six feet under / I can’t help but wonder / If our grave was watered by the rain / Would roses bloom? / Could roses bloom / Again?”

Flaws by Bastille

Idek, I feel like this could be how he could view his relationship with Steph, Cass, Damian, Bart, Dick??? Anyone? Just feeling like he hides his flaws and how he feels, and they don’t really (or at least, he thinks they don’t), and he likes that.

Fave Lyric: “There’s a hole in my soul / I can’t fill it, I can’t fill it / There’s a hole in my soul / Can you fill it? Can you fill it?”

do re mi by blackbear

I’m mostly joking when I say this but this is how he feels about Ra’s al Ghul. It doesn’t fit exactly, bc Tim and Ra’s were NOT together ever at any point, but this song is about being annoyed by someone you have a history with and wishing you’d never known them. Which is how I feel Tim should feel about Ra’s. lol

Fave Lyric: “If I could go back to that day we met / I probably would’ve stayed in bed / You wake up everyday and make me feel like I’m incompetent”

Bored by Billie Eilish

I really think this is Tim talking to his parents. Like, when he’s a kid, or when he’s older and looking back, he’s thinking “I did everything I could, it wasn’t enough, and I know it’s not fair but I can’t do anything about it.” I think this song is supposed to be romantic but I’ve never heard it that way skdjfkjsdhakjh I just always think about Tim, home alone and thinking about his parents.

Fave Lyric: “I’m not afraid anymore / What makes you sure you’re all I need? / Forget about it / When you walk out the door and leave me torn / You’re teaching me to live without it / Bored, I’m so bored, I’m so bored, so bored”

Rose-Colored Boy by Paramore

This one is like… everyone else seems to have an easier time being optimistic and positive than Tim does, in his mind. Idk I don’t have much to say kdsjfhsdjkah

Fave Lyric: “Hearts are breaking, wars are raging on / And I have taken my glasses off / You got me nervous / I’m right at the end of my rope / A half-empty girl / Don’t make me laugh, I’ll choke”

King of the Clouds by Panic! At The Disco

This is mostly because it’s a bop and Tim would like it. But also…this is a song about dimensional travel (apparently) and having ambitions that seem lofty, both of which I think Tim can definitely understand!! 

Fave Lyric: “And when I fall to rise with stardust in my eyes / In the backbone of night, I’m combustible / Dust in the fire when I can’t sleep a wink, I’m too tired / This old world, this old world”

#tim drake #song analysis #asks #idk what to tag this as #meta #??? #this is 20 of them!! if u want more lmk (there are still like 40 more songs I think) #but im done for the day ksdjfkdash #its so hard to type like this #Anonymous

[jcmorgenstern]

@superohclair oh god okay please know these are all just incoherent ramblings so like, idk, please feel free to add on or ignore me if im just wildly off base but this is a bad summary of what ive been thinking about and also my first titans/batman meta?? (also, hi!)

okay so for the disclaimer round: I am not an actual cultural studies major, nor do I have an extensive background in looking at the police/military industrial complex in media. also my comics knowledge is pretty shaky and im a big noob(I recently got into titans, and before that was pretty ignorant of the dceu besides batman) so I’ll kind of focus in on the show and stuff im more familiar with and apologize in advance?. basically im just a semi-educated idiot with Opinions, anyone with more knowledge/expertise please jump in! this is literally just the bullshit I spat out incoherently off the top of my head. did i mention im a comics noob? because im a comics noob.

so on a general level, I think we can all agree that batman as a cultural force is somewhat on the conservative side, if not simply due to its age and commercial positioning in American culture. there are a lot of challenges and nuances to that and it’s definitely expanding and changing as DC tries to position itself in the way that will...make the most money, but all you have to do is take a gander through the different iterations of the stories in the comics and it’ll smack you in the fucking face. like compare the first iteration of Jason keeping kids out of drugs to the titans version and you’ve got to at least chuckle. at the end of the day, this is a story about a (white male) billionaire who fights crime.

to be fair, I’d argue the romanticization of the police isn’t as aggressive as it could be—they are most often presented as corrupt and incompetent. However, considering the main cop characters depicted like Jim Gordon, the guys in Gotham (it’s been a while since I saw it, sorry) are often the romanticized “good few” (and often or almost always white cis/het men), that’s on pretty shaky ground. I don’t have the background in the comics strong enough to make specific arguments, so I’ll cede the point to someone who does and disagrees, but having recently watched a show that deals excellently with police incompetence, racism, and brutality (7 Seconds on Netflix), I feel at the very least something is deeply missing. like, analysis of race wrt police brutality in any aspect at all whatsoever.

I think it can be compellingly read that batman does heavily play into the military/police industrial complex due to its takes on violence—just play the Arkham games for more than an hour and you’ll know what I mean. to be a little less vague, even though batman as a franchise valorizes “psychiatric treatment” and “nonviolence,” the entire game seems pretty aware it characterizes treatment as a madhouse and nonviolence as breaking someone’s back or neck magically without killing them because you’re a “good guy.” while it is definitely subversive that the franchise even considers these elements at all, they don’t always do a fantastic job living up to them.

and then when you consider the fetishization of tools of violence both in canon and in the fandom, it gets worse. same with prisons—if anything it dehumanizes people in prisons even more than like, cop shows in general, which is pretty impressive(ly bad). like there’s just no nuance afforded and arkham is generally glamorized. the fact that one of the inmates is a crocodile assassin, I will admit, does not help. im not really sure how to mitigate that when, again, one of the inmates is a crocodile assassin, but I think my point still stands. fuck you, killer croc. (im just kidding unfuck him or whatever)

not to take this on a Jason Todd tangent but I was thinking about it this afternoon and again when thinking about that cop scene again and in many ways he does serve as a challenge to both batman’s ideology as well as the ideology of the franchise in general. his depiction is always a bit of a sticking point and it’s always fascinating to me to see how any given adaptation handles it. like Jason’s “”street”” origin has become inseparable from his characterization as an angry, brash, violent kid, and that in itself reflects a whole host of cultural stereotypes that I might argue occasionally/often dip into racialized tropes (like just imagine if he wasn’t white, ok). red hood (a play on robin hood and the outlaws, as I just realized...today) is in my exposure/experience mostly depicted as a villain, but he challenges batman’s no-kill philosophy both on an ethical and practical level. every time the joker escapes he kills a whole score more of innocent people, let alone the other rogues—is it truly ethical to let him live or avoid killing him for the cost of one life and let others die?

moreover, batman’s ““blind”” faith in the justice system (prisons, publicly-funded asylum prisons, courts) is conveniently elided—the story usually ends when he drops bad guy of the day off at arkham or ties up the bad guys and lets the police come etc etc. part of this is obviously bc car chases are more cinematic than dry court procedurals, but there is an alternate universe where bruce wayne never becomes batman and instead advocates for the arkham warden to be replaced with someone competent and the system overhauled, or in programs encouraging a more diverse and educated police force, or even into social welfare programs. (I am vaguely aware this is sometimes/often part of canon, but I don’t think it’s fair to say it’s the main focus. and again, I get it’s not nearly as cinematic).

overall, I think the most frustrating thing about the batman franchise or at least what I’ve seen or read of it is that while it does attempt to deal with corruption and injustice at all levels of the criminal justice system/government, it does so either by treating it as “just how life is” or having Dick or Jim Gordon or whoever the fuckjust wipe it out by “eliminating the dirty cops,” completely ignoring the non-fantasy ways these problems are dealt with in real life. it just isn’t realistic. instead of putting restrictions on police violence or educating cops on how to use their weapons or putting work into eradicating the culture of racism and prejudice or god basically anything it’s just all cinematized into the “good few” triumphing over the bad...somehow. its always unsatisfying and ultimately feels like lip service to me, personally.

this also dovetails with the very frustrating way mental health/”insanity” or “madness” is dealt with in canon, very typical of mainstream fiction. like for example:“madness is like gravity, all it takes is a little push.” yikes, if by ‘push’ you mean significant life stressors, genetic load, and environemntal influences,  then sure. challenge any dudebro joker fanboy to explain exactly what combination of DSM disorders the joker has to explain his “””insanity””” and see what happens. (these are, in fact, my plans for this Friday evening. im a hit at parties).

anyway I do really want to wax poetic about that cop scene in 1x06 so im gonna do just that! honestly when I first saw that I immediately sat up like I’d sat on a fucking tack, my cultural studies senses were tingling. the whole “fuck batman” ethos of the show had already been interesting to me, esp in s1, when bruce was basically standing in for the baby boomers and dick being our millennial/GenX hero. I do think dick was explicitly intended to appeal to a millennial audience and embody the millennial ethos. By that logic, the tension between dick and Jason immediately struck me as allegorical (Jason constantly commenting on dick being old, outdated, using slang dick doesn’t understand and generally being full of youthful obnoxious fistbumping energy).

Even if subconsciously on the part of the writers, jason’s over-aggressive energy can be read as a commentary on genZ—seen by mainstream millennial/GenX audiences as taking things too far. Like, the cops in 1x06 could have been Nick Zucco’s hired men or idk pretty much anyone, yet they explicitly chose cops and even had Jason explain why he deliberately went after them for being cops so dick (cop) could judge him for it. his rationale? he was beaten up by cops on the street, so he’s returning the favor. he doesn’t have the focused “righteous” rage of batman or dick/nightwing towards valid targets, he just has rage at the world and specifically the system—framed here as unacceptable or fanatical. as if like, dressing up like a bat and punching people at night is, um, totally normal and uncontroversial.

on a slightly wider scope, the show seems to internally struggle with its own progressive ethos—on the one hand, they hire the wildly talented chellah man, but on the other hand they will likely kill him off soon. or they cast anna diop, drawing wrath from the loudly racist underbelly of fandom, but sideline her. perhaps it’s a genuine struggle, perhaps they simply don’t want to alienate the bigots in the fanbase, but the issue of cops stuck out to me when I was watching as an social issue where they explicitly came down on one side over the other. jason’s characterization is, I admit and appreciate, still nuanced, but I’d argue that’s literally just bc he’s a white guy and a fan favorite. cast an actor of color as Jason and see how fast fandom and the writer’s room turns on him.

anyway i don’t really have the place to speak about what an explicitly nonwhite!cop!dick grayson would look like, but I do think it would be a fascinating and exciting place to start in exploring and correcting the kind of vague and nebulous complaints i raise above. (edit: i should have made more clear, i mean in the show, which hasn’t dealt with dick’s heritage afaik). also, there’s something to be said about the cop vs detective thing but I don’t really have the brain juice or expertise to say it? anyway if you got this far i hope it was at least interesting and again pls jump in id love to hear other people’s takes!!

tldr i took two (2) cultural studies classes and have Opinions

#wow this was a hot fucking mess #i tried to be organized but my thoughts weren't coming out super well #again anyone interested please feel free to jump in or correct me at any place you feel like #i die on the ''jason todd would be treated horribly by fandom if he were a character of color' hill tho #i could go on about 1x06 until im blue in the face but that's the uhh overview. the executive summary. #dc titans #i need meta tags and shit for this show #god help me in too deep #finding the meta side of fandom was a GIFT tho i love this shit #so excited