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schrijverr · 4 months

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We’re Adopted?!?

When Bruce’s kids end up on the Watchtower due to a set of unforeseen circumstances, Jason first tries to get the League to believe that they’re all biologically related to Bruce. He tries to avoid having Jason give everyone a sex talk by reminding him that he’s adopted. This leads to all his kids pretending that this is the first time they’ve heard of it, much to the horror of the League and the exasperation of Bruce.

Based on this post.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

It finally happened. After years of successfully keeping the League from finding out about all the kids he has, they’ve finally met. And in the most dramatic way too. In a way it’s very suited for their family, but that is a detail Bruce had hoped to keep from the League.

However, it happens anyway and now his two teams have met.

They’re sitting in the common area of the Watchtower when the Zeta-Tube suddenly whirs to life and the Batmobile comes crashing into the area. It spins to a stop as if it had been in the middle of a chase, before the teleporter snatched them off the streets.

Bruce gets out of his chair and makes his way over. He isn’t too worried about them, since they’re here and while that might have meant danger before, they are safe with him now. If one of them had been terribly injured or left behind, they would be screaming and yelling already and that isn’t happening yet.

His eyes meet Tim’s, who is standing next to the car, his costume a little singed, hair askew and looking a little worse for wear. Apologetically he greets: “Hi, Justice League, promise we have a good reason to be here.”

For Bruce, this is quite normal chaos and these are his kids, but he notices that the Justice League has formed a defensive barrier around the Batmobile. They perceive his kids as a threat. It’s so absurd that he is quiet for a moment.

In that moment, Superman steps forward and demands to know: “Who are you and how did you get up here?”

“With a car no less,” Hal adds, sounding a little impressed, which doesn’t make Bruce smug in the slightest, no sir.

He is about to tell everyone to stand down when the doors of the car open and his kids come spilling out. It’s a bit of a car clown moment with how many vigilantes fit inside.

Dick nearly falls out of the side, with Damian following after him. Both of them have soot in their hair and scratches on their faces.

A singed Jason stumbling out on the other side as he loudly complains: “This is the last time we’re letting Spoiler drive.”

Steph’s costume is a little flame tattered too as she swings open the driving side and says: “I’d like to see you do better, asshole. At least it wasn’t like Signal’s first driving attempt.”

“Hey,” Duke exclaims, coming out of the car after Jason, looking a little banged up. “Just because I didn’t know where the missiles were, doesn’t mean it was terrible.”

“I didn’t eject anyone,” Steph pouts.

“Yes, you did!” Duke exclaims. “You very much did.”

“Well, not by accident,” Steph argues. “It was part of the plan.”

The other front door is now open and Cass is next to him. He puts an arm around her and pulls her into his cape. Then he decides to step in, because it seems the League doesn’t know what to do when they’re not viewed as an authority.

“What happened?” he asks.

Six heads snap his way, as if his kids had forgotten where they were. It wouldn’t be the first time, so he doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes.

Tim reports: “The Riddler broke out of Arkham, along with like a bunch of b-rate villains. They caused havoc, but we rounded them all up. Riddler took the time it took us to round them up to set up his trap. He went with a fire theme.”

“Is he contained now?” Bruce asks, a little concerned.

“Yeah, no problem, B, we got ‘em,” Steph assures him casually with a thumbs up.

“Sorry, uhm, excuse me, Batman, do you know these people?” Clark asks in that awkward, polite way of his.

Bruce contemplates for a second what he should answer. Then decides that he wants to know what happened and doesn’t want to deal with questions. So he just says: “My associates. Now report, how did you end up here?”

“Associates,” Jason snorts.

However, he is ignored by his siblings as Damian reports: “We have caught the Riddler, however we did so without solving the last of his riddles. So, he sprang his trap after we took him down and we became the target of some missiles.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?” one of the League members exclaims under their breath.

“Tt, of course we’re okay,” Damian spits back. “Unlike you, we have been trained.”

“And we learned our lesson; always solve all of Riddler’s riddles,” Steph grins, giving them all a thumbs up.

“I already said that, but who listens to Red Robin? Nobody,” Tim complains.

Before it can turn into a squabble fest again, Bruce clears his throat and Dick jumps in to get them back on track, explaining: “We tried to get away in the Batmobile, but we couldn’t outrun it forever. So we decided the best way to escape was to use the Zeta-Tube connection.”

“It was great, Spoiler sent replacement flying so he could put in the code,” Jason laughs.

“I wanted to beam us to the Cave, but with the amount of time we had, just taking us to the most recently used coordinates was smarter,” Tim explains. He checks his arm computer then says: “The chatter on the police coms is that the missile made impact where we disappeared. No one was in the area when it went off, but there is property damage. And a few of the new recruits are convinced we’re supernatural, since none of our remains are being found.”

That last bit gets a few laughs from the assembled vigilantes. Most of Gotham PD have resigned themselves to the fact that the protectors of Gotham are humans, who seemingly pull of the impossible from time to time.

However, there are always newer members, who come up with great conspiracies about how they aren’t human and that’s why they pull it off. Bruce knows that it’s a bit of a game between his kids to see who can get them to believe the weirdest shit about them.

So, he just lets them have the moment of amusement after what must have been a highly tense moment.

Then he asks: “Where is Bluebird?” since he hasn’t seen Harper among the crowd, which is weird, because she’s on the night shift, while Duke is on the day shift.

“She the one, who figured out where Riddler was and caught him,” Dick says proudly. “She was escorting him to Arkham when she noticed he was being off. Without her we would’ve never made it to the Batmobile on time.”

Bruce makes a mental note to thank her for saving his other kids when he sees her.

“We also let Oracle know we’re okay, so she can inform her and Batwoman when she gets back from her mission, just in case she saw the news,” Dick goes on.

“Wait,” they get interrupted by Hal. “How many more heroes are you going to pull out of your sleeve? What happened to Mr. I Work alone? Am I being crazy here? Why are you all just standing there?”

Clark says: “Well, it’s obvious Batman knows these people and they do not seem like a threat to us, so I was going to wait until they’d given a report before demanding answers.”

“And we will demand answers, Batman,” Diana adds, making Bruce swallow a little. “We are your friends, we hoped there would be some trust there. You seem to have a whole different team of warriors. That is something you share.”

“Don’t mind, B, he just comes with permanently built in paranoia, it’s nothing against you,” Dick tells them.

In the background, Jason snorts: “Did you hear that guys? We’re his team of warriors. His associates.”

Damian huffs at that: “These imbeciles obviously do not know what they are on about and I refuse to be referred to as such, when I am the blood son.”

“I don’t know, Robin,” Steph laughs. “It almost starts to feel like he cares. I mean, he obviously has been bragging about us.”

“He has not spoken a word about us,” Damian exclaims.

In the background, Bruce can feel a headache coming. He has tried to keep his kids away from the League for their own safety. They can’t use his kids against him, should they become compromised, if they don’t know they exist.

However, they do know now and not only that, it seems like his kids are here to cause trouble on purpose now that they finally get to meet, who they refer to as, ‘his work friends AKA the only friends he has’. Delightful.

Indeed, the League has picked up on the words Jason set Damian up for, because Hal repeats: “Blood son?”

And Clark frowns: “They do seem quite young.”

“Batman, are you employing babes to protect Gotham with you?” Diana exclaims in horror.

“I am highly trained, who dares to call me a baby,” Damian protests immediately and while his siblings would usually laugh at him, they now also feel offended.

All of them have had to defend their age to people, including Bruce. They don’t like being questioned. So all of them are falling over themselves to defend their position as protectors of Gotham.

Bruce decides to help them, explaining: “There are more teen heroes, most of you have or had a sidekick. These vigilantes keep each other safe, they have the safety of back up and I also provide good gear. They’re not running around without a clue of what to do.”

“Ahww, I knew you cared, old man,” Steph coos, while Cass taps a genuine thank you in Morse code on his arm.

“Batman, I appreciate that you look out of them, but most sidekicks have had superpowers that are related to one of the heroes and sought out a mentor to help,” Clark says gently. “You have no powers, where did you get these kids?”

And in hindsight, he should have known better than to hesitate. However, at the times, he does, because the circus, the streets, the neighbor’s and some villains, are not really good answers to that question, no matter how true. And he doesn’t know if he wants to explain.

Still, he has to admit that he melts slightly when Cass speaks up to say: “His kids.”

Plus, it’s kind of funny how most League member jump out of their skin at the sudden voice, since none of them had spotted Cass before. Not even those with superhuman senses. His daughter is so talented.

Arguably the funniest reaction is Hal, who shrieks: “Where the fuck did you get these kids, Spooky!” as he violently startles backwards.

However, Jason jumps on the opportunity, sending Bruce a shit eating grin before he does (he might still be wearing the helmet, but Bruce knows him). He says: “Well, when two people love each other very much, they-”

No, just no. Absolutely not.

The League already thinks him to be a bit of a weirdo, who is steeped in paranoia. They respect him, but they’re always a little wary of him too (which is good in a way, he doesn’t want them close to his secret identity with the threat they could pose). Still, he doesn’t want them to think he practically bred an army of shadow-y vigilantes to protect Gotham. He’d never live it down.

“Hood,” he quickly cuts Jason off, before he can continue with his nonsense. Then he tiredly reminds him: “You’re adopted.”

“WHAT!” Jason shrieks, ripping his helmet off to reveal a shocked and betrayed face even with his domino mask. “How could you keep that from me?”

It seems like everyone needs a second to recover and process after the outburst. However, Jason is gaining steam and dramatically barrels on: “For years. Years! I lived with you, you fed me, you cared for me. You are my dad. At least you were. Was that all a lie? Some ruse? How- Why- I deserved to know.”

Bruce is shocked, unable to form words. His relationship with Jason has been rough, though getting better. It’s still tentative, though, so to hear Jason refer to him as dad throws him off in one of the best ways. Until he realizes Jason is fucking with him.

Even then, it is kind of nice that Jason is messing with him. When he looks, he sees that Jason is having fun under the mask of betrayal. It doesn’t have a bitter undertone, like it would have a few months ago. Instead, it feels a little like all the times Jason messed with him in front of Commissioner Gordon, back when he was Robin.

So, later Bruce will cut himself some slack for basking in that feeling for long enough that the others catch on and join in.

It starts with Steph, who has never claimed him as her father a day in his life, but will always be committed to a bit. She sniffles: “I can’t believe you’d lie to our brother like that. Soon you’ll tell us we’re all adopted.”

“Spoiler,” Bruce warns, hoping to deter anyone else from joining in.

That doesn’t happen, instead, Dick pulls Duke into a hug and exclaims: “Yeah, next you’ll tell us Signal here isn’t our half brother, like you didn’t leave his mother at the altar.” He narrows his eyes and adds: “I was the flower boy too, I can’t believe you did that to her.”

He sees Duke’s calculating gaze, flitting between Dick and himself and knows it’s only a matter of time before he picks a side, so he grunts: “Signal, don’t-”

“She talked about it until her death. Don’t tell me she made it up,” Duke suddenly says, picking the side of his siblings. Bruce would be more glad about him getting along with them, if it weren’t for the fact that in joining him, he left Bruce.

“You monster,” Jason butts back in again, not having had the spotlight in too long. “Look what you’ve done. You can’t just drop something like that on us. You can’t just pull the rug out from under us. Adopted. Or am I the only one? Huh? Is that it? Are all of them your real kids except for me?”

It’s a little too close to home, so Bruce stumbles: “No, of course, you’re always my kid. But this isn’t news to you. To any of you.”

“So we are all adopted?” Tim shrieks, stumbling forwards to clutch Bruce’s arm. “Those people you took me away from, were they my real parents? Did you lie to me?”

And this is just unfair. They’re not allowed to gang up on him like this and be dramatic. They know he doesn’t know what to do when they get like this. He gave them a home, he kept them as safe as he could, he loves them. What has he done to deserve this?

Dick and Duke are still embracing each other and Bruce is pretty sure Dick is weeping. Steph is definitely fake crying, while Jason is consoling her. Tim is still clutching his one arm, babbling about being taken from his parents.

Cass is his favorite right now, because she isn’t playing along with her sibling, just quietly huddling into his side. Damian would share the spot, but Bruce knows that the only reason he isn’t playing along, is because he doesn’t know what their game is and how he can use it to his advantage.

Indeed, he joins in – though not entirely purposefully – because he asks: “Father, I am your true son right? I am the blood son, not these imbeciles.”

Jason is definitely hiding a snort as a sob and in that moment, Bruce is tempted to disown Damian, just so he doesn’t have to deal with all this.

He can see how shocked the Justice League is, their eyes wide with horror, none of them having truly recovered at the sudden appearance at a gaggle of kids, who are now seemingly breaking down over the surprise news of being adopted.

He should’ve just let Jason give the League a sex talk.

So, he is tempted to not recognize Damian as his own, however, he knows how much Damian values his heritage and how insecure he is about his spot in the family. And he does look genuinely worried about what’s happening. So, Bruce has to sigh and reward the vulnerability that he shows with compassion, saying: “Yes, Robin.”

Jason lets out a pained groan and says: “So it is true? We really are adopted?” then breaks down crying. It’s almost impressive how well he can sob on demand. How well all of them can, Bruce wonders when they learned that and who taught them that.

The League, meanwhile has also apparently reached their limits and Hal suddenly explodes: “Fucking hell, Bats. Is that how you’re telling them that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Around him all the others start to nod in agreement and Bruce knows that some of those shaking shoulders of his kids aren’t sobs but laughter at this point. He wonders if it’s wrong to return any of them, despite knowing that he would never give any of them up, even with all the gray hairs they’re giving him.

He does think about it though, especially when Clark cautiously says: “It seems unnecessarily cruel, Batman. They’ve just been chased through the streets by missiles. You could have waited.”

“Yes, it is very cruel,” Diana agrees. “And I do not know you to be cruel.”

Usually, Bruce has an image to maintain, but that image includes him working alone and having no sense of humor or humanity, so obviously it’s incorrect. Besides, any reputation he might have had has just been ruined by his kids. He doesn’t have to take this judgment from his friends.

So, he throws his hands up and, bordering on a whine, says: “I’m not cruel. They all know they’re adopted. All of them were over nine when it happened. Hell, not even all of them are adopted. Not all of them wanted to be. They know! They’re just messing with me.”

It’s quiet after his outburst.

Both the League and his kids blink for a few times. It’s clear that the League doesn’t know what to believe, but his kids are luckily done with the chaos. Though, Bruce doesn’t know if he’s happy with that when he sees some of their faces morph into grins.

Dick decides to put him out of his misery first, letting go of Duke to skip forwards and sling an arm around Bruce, which he grudgingly allows. He never says no to hugs from his kids, no matter what stunt they’ve just pulled.

“He’s right,” Dick smiles at everyone. Then he jokingly tugs on one of the ears on his cowl – something he has done since his early days as Robin – as he teases: “He didn’t mind. Right, B? You are a softie under there.”

“Who cares if he minds,” Jason says loudly. “That was hilarious, did you see everyone’s faces when replacement told them he’d stolen him out of his home. Golden. I’m gonna ask O for that footage the second we get back.”

Now the League is looking at them with even more confusion. Unsure of what to do now.

Bruce wants to let them suffer, but he also doesn’t want to give his kids room to do something else to embarrass him. So, he takes the reigns saying: “Just to clear it all up; this is Nightwing, my oldest.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Dick gives the League a bright smile.

“My second or third oldest – we’re not sure – Red Hood,” Bruce continues on, gesturing to Jason, who just gives them a salute. “And, again, the second or third oldest, Black Bat.” She waves at them, startling some again, since they’d forgotten she was there. Hm, they might have to do another stealth and awareness training day.

“This is Spoiler, she is not one of mine technically,” he continues on introducing everyone there.

Steph grins at all of them and says: “I eat his food and steal his money, but I’m not having him sign shit. All of the perks, none of the accountability.”

“And how you remind me of that,” Bruce sighs, before gesturing to Tim and saying: “This is Red Robin, my fourth kid. He is adopted, but also emancipated. And I did not steal him away from his parents.”

“Technically, he did, because they were kinda shitty, but only legally when they died,” Tim corrects, which is not necessary and Bruce will be answering questions about that for months. Judging by the smug look on his face, Tim knows.

Deciding not to engage for now, he moves on to Duke. “This is Signal, he is my ward. He normally works the day shift.”

“Hello,” Duke squeaks awkwardly.

“And this is Robin, he is the youngest,” Bruce finishes his introductions.

“I am the blood son of the Bat and the one true heir,” Damian exclaims proudly.

“Yeah, yeah, we know, brat,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You were once B’s sperm. Whoop-die-doo.”

Multiple faces contort at that, with Tim and Steph both exclaiming how gross that is and how he didn’t have to phrase it like that and how they never want to hear about Bruce’s sex life ever again in any way, shape, or form.

Hal comments: “Wait, you actually have a kid?”

Bruce fights the urge to facepalm as he deadpans: “Just a second ago, you were willing to believe I had seven or more, why do you seem surprised?”

That renders Hal speechless, which is good, because Bruce doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to check up properly on his kids, check up on Gotham, and be as far away from the League and their questions as he can.

So, he uses the silence to says: “Now, as interesting as this has all been, we are going home. I have a city to check on and kids to ground.”

All around him protests start up about how he either has no power over them and can’t ground them or that they’re too mature and well trained fro childish things such as grounding. But Bruce is great at tuning them out when needs must, so he types in the last of the Batcave coordinates and lets the Zeta-Tube take them home.

A/N:

I love coming up with convoluted reasons of why the batfam would be in the Watchtower lmao

Also Alfred totally taught them to cry on command, knowing they would use it for evil <3

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vigil-antes · 11 months

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First meetings

Imagine Bruce walking up to Wonder Woman and Superman and being like

"I would like to introduce you to a partner of mine, Red Robin" and gesturing to his side. But because the bat kids like being as uncooperative as possible in any given situation, there's no one next to Batman, which prompts him to pat his legs and sides like a dad who's misplaced his wallet.

After a minute of frantic and yet composed searching, he shoves a hand into his cape and gropes around for a couple seconds until he finally manages to grab onto something.

As he pulls out an entire vigilante out of his costume, Diana and Clark watch on confusedly.

But the vigilante, a young man in a decidedly too tight black and blue suit, doesnt seem to be the right one, because Batman scowls and asks,

"What are you doing in there? And where is your brother?" (At the seeming admission of parentage, Diana lets out a small delighted gasp, and little stars appear in her eyes like in a cartoon)

But the man doesn't answer, instead grinning and shoving a hand back into the cape (seriously, where the hell does it go??) and pulling out the edge of what seems to be another cape.

Batman somehow frowns more, and from where he's holding his presumed son at the scruff, like a particularly unruly kitten, he pulls him further from inside the cape.

The young man in turn pulls another figure from under Batman's arm, this one covered in black from head to toe. They lift a hand to wave at Batman, but the other seems to also be holding onto someone else.

Batman releases the first vigilante on the ground, and takes a hold on the arm the secon figure is holding onto, which after another pull, turns out to be connected to a purple clad girl, the upper part of her face visible under a hood.

"Hey, big guy!" she exclaims with nonchalance like she's not part of the most bizzare display both Clark and Diana have been witness to, and they've both seen a lot of shit.

Batman grunts, and if Batman could sound anything other than mildly annoyed, Diana could swear he sounds downright distressed.

He doesnt answer, instead proceeding to keep pulling masked figures, each one holding onto the next, out of his cape, in a severely messed up imitation of a clown pulling napkins out of his sleeve.

"damn," says the first man, sounding a bit winded from his position under the increasingly tall pile of slumped over vigilantes "its like a clown car in there."

At some point, Batman's finds in his own cape grow more bizzare, including an old man dressed like a stereotipical butler, complete with a steaming teacup in hand, a woman in a wheelchair, and what Clark refuses to believe is a cow with bat-shaped markings over its eyes.

At last, when the room is at least fifteen people (and non-people entities Clark is currently pretending dont exist) fuller he pulls out a young man in red and black, who's furiously tapping away on a tablet.

"There." He sets the boy down next to the amorphous pile on the floor, and his shoulders relax an invisible millimeter.

The boy looks up from his tablet and startles at the sight, like he hadnt noticed the change in settings.

"As i was saying, this is Red Robin, my partner." Batman introduces the boy, acting like the damn cow is not very valiantly trying to eat Diana's lasso of truth.

#after that batman shoos everyone back in the cape with a “we'll talk about this at home'#then proceeds to gaslight diana and clark into thinking they imagined everything #batman #tim drake #batfam #dc #dc comics #dick grayson #superman #cassandra cain #batcow #wonder woman #justice league

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violetbumblebea · 2 years

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I like the idea of magic! Batcape (Bruce refuses to admit it's magic, there has to be a scientific explanation)

Batman, shows up at a crime scene: What do you need, Jim?

Gordon: Well, me and my men will need to look over blood spatter and try to find some DNA on the crime scene. The perp was caught on camera and-

Batman nods and opens his cape and, like a clown car, out stumbles Nightwing, Redhood, Blackbat, Red Robin, Robin, and Signal: Is this enough?

#batman #battinson #robin #red robin #red hood #nightwing #black bat #signal #batfam #jim gordan #au

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thebucketpail · 7 months

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When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt 14.

Pt.1 pt.13 Ao3

------

Jason had alot on his mind.

For starters, apparently his boyfriend had a kid, which, great! She seemed awesome and that was totally okay. But then there were the concerning things he had overheard from the phone call. Like the bit about cloning, which would make Dani- well at least it was somewhat better than the alternative. Suffice to say, he and Danny had alot to talk about later.

All this had led to the very strong urge to find this 'Vlad' character and shoot him where it hurt. (Well it would probably hurt no matter where he shot him but the point still stands.)

Luckily, Jason didn't have to spend long trying to hide this fury before getting an alert from Oracle about some super-powered lunatic tearing up the upper east side. Now that usually wouldn't be his problem, but beating up bad guys is, shockingly, a really good stress relief, so he took the out.

Hopefully Danny didn't take him leaving so suddenly the wrong way.

Unfortunately, Jason didn't really have the mental bandwidth to actually think all these thoughts while also getting shot at by a green floating maniac.

"Oracle, please tell me you have something on this guy, I'm almost out of tricks," he yelled, not waiting to watch the round he unloaded sail right through the guy, before diving behind a half melted car.

"Tt, you may be out of tricks, Todd, but I am not," Robin called as he vaulted over Hood's makeshift shelter. Giving him a satisfying view when seconds later he sailed back overhead and crashed into a storefront, as a chorus of, "Names, Robin," crackled over the intercomm.

"Lucky shot," he grumbled, stumbling over to Jason who had to stifle a laugh at how the kid's face was scrunched up in annoyance. "Not a word. Oracle?"

"Sorry boys, nothing yet. I'll keep trying but all I'm hitting are dead ends."

Robin scrunched up his nose and sighed in annoyance, "So what's the plan then?" He asked.

Hood was about to snap back that 'how should he know' when someone else spoke.

"The plan is: you focus on getting civilians out of the way while we take out big, mean, and corrosive over there." Okay, Red Hood would never admit that he jumped, but to be fair, Robin did too. The voice had come from directly over his shoulder and no one should be able to sneak up on two trained vigilantes that easily. Especially not Damian.

They turned in unison to find two floating teenagers, no more than 17 and 13 each, with floating white hair, and green, green eyes. They were nearly identical, all the way down to the black and silver jumpsuits emblazoned with a flaming D insignia, or were they p's? It was hard to tell.

They were clearly heros of a sort, but Jason didn't recognize them so they were either really small time and in Gotham for a visit, or they chose the wrong city to jumpstart their heroing careers.

"Why are you dressed like a traffic light?" The younger one asked, blowing and popping a blindingly pink bubble as she floated closer to Robin, "I thought the bats were supposed to be discreet."

"That's none of your business," demon Brat growled, "Touch me and you're dead." The girl's hand paused, halfway outstretched toward Robin's cape. She didn't back off, though, until he pulled a birdarang.

"Woah there," she said, holding up her hands and floating backwards as if to calm him, "You're a little late on the dead part, but let's go easy on the knives, eh?"

The guy, now standing next to Hood as he watched the scene play out, snickered.

Robin scowled, "Who are you?"

The guy beamed and raised his hand like he was waiting to be called on in class. "Ooh! I know this one! Uh, hi, my name's Phantom," he gestured grandly to himself and, grinning, took a small bow, and that's Stray," he continued, "We are ghosts, like you, but we're here to help with that." He finished off the whole thing by pointing at the guy stomping around the streets and shooting acid.

The little one- Stray- nodded and popped another bubble. "Yeah, basically, our job is to beat up the ghosts who escape the zone and cause mayhem. We're just cool like that. But don't worry, y'all aren't causing to many issues so you're good."

"We are alot more expirienced than you though, so you guys should just stick to evacuation while we take care of the combat part," Phantom added as he flipped a -was that a soup thermos?- in the air.

Somehow Robin's frown managed to get deeper.

"We do not need you're assistance with combat," he scoffed, "and I find it unbelievable that you two have more experience than I do."

Stray's eyebrows shot up. " Oh okay, sorry didn't relise you were good on your own. I guess that's probably why you just flew through a window and can't seem to land a single hit," she sassed back, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Tt, a slight miscalculation. Besides, I have no doubt I could take you in a fight easily, much less the flying green bozo over there."

"Oh yeah?" She replied, her nose twitching slightly, "You wanna go traffic light?"

"Bring it," he growled, dropping into a fighting stance.

Then they were at each other's necks. Damian was tackled off his feet almost immediately, making it less of a standard fight and more of a knock-down, drag-out brawl, and Phantom was just watching. No, not even just watching, he was cheering them on, meanwhile Jason was still trying to wrap his head around what they had said.

"Wait, waitwaitwait. Rewind," he said, causing the ghost to turn toward him distractedly without pulling his eyes from the wrestling demons. "What do you mean 'ghosts like you'? Were not ghosts" At least as far as Hood knew he wasn't a ghost. Zombie plausibly, but he had gotten better, so not a ghost. No walking through walls and spraying people with goo, and he definitely didn't float and/or glow like these people.

Phantom snorted and turned toward him fully with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't mean like ghost, ghost," he snorted, "at least not what most people think of ghosts. But you've both clearly died before, and you have cores, however small, so- ghost," he explained, trailing off with awkward jazz hands.

what?

"What?"

Phantom looked like he was about to respond, but was cut off when a large glob of plasma careened into their makeshift shelter and melted the remains into the ground.

The demons, now rolling on the ground, froze, and Phantom let out a low whistle.

"Right, forgot about that. Stray, come on." The girl popped up from the ground, sporting several new bruises and a manic grin.

"Time to kick butt now, Dad?" Hood's brain froze. 'dad?' Phantom just let out a drawn out sigh as he mussed up her hair in a way that seemed oddly familiar.

"Oh so no I'm 'dad'," he grumbled before turning back to Hood. "You're good on the plan, yeah? Cool, see you in two shakes of a ghosts tail." He punned, then they were off, shouting insults and throwing punches that actually managed to hit.

Hood took a few seconds to process what the fresh hell just happened as Robin stood up and spat some blood from his mouth. He was also sporting fresh bruises, aswell as a small cut on his forehead. Impressive.

"Tt, they are adequate," he muttered, turning on his heel and heading for the nearest building where civilians were still trapped.

Hood sent a quick message to Oracle and B that they had help and to focus on civilians, before following as the fight raged on overhead.

---------

"So is it just me or does Red Hood seem kinda familiar?" Dani asked, ducking an ecto blast and moving in to land a solid hit.

Danny raised an eyebrow and shot a widely at their opponent. "What do you mean?" He asked in response, frowning as the shot missed.

"I don't know, I think it's his core? I feel like I've met him before, but I'm pretty sure I would know if I had."

"Huh, strange. Hey Acid Breath! When was the last time you took a shower? You're stinking up the whole street." The Ghost roared in response as they showered the area in corrosive ectoplasm. "Damn, sorry, didn't mean to strike a nerve. How'd you get here anyway?"

"AAACCCEEE!!" now what could that possibly mean?

"Sorry I don't know anyone called 'Ace'," Danny called, stopping long enough to keep their attention off Dani as she went in for another attack. "You wouldn't mind introducing us, would you?"

"RAWR!!!" Okay, that was a no then. Finally, Dani struck, landing a solid hit to their back before getting smacked to the pavement twenty feet below.

Danny yelped, fumbling with the thermos on his belt before promptly souping the poor sap and flying down to his clone.

"You good kid?" He asked, wincing as Danny scowled up at him and spat out her wad of gum.

"Just peachy," she replied with a sarcastic smile as she took his offered hand. "I thought you promised me a fight."

Danny squinted at her and looked around at the carnage and smoking crater they were currently standing in.

"Was that not? A fight?"

The kid snorted and rolled her eyes, "I meant like a fun one, like with Ember or Skulker. This guy was no fun, no finesse. The closest thing I got to a fight was that brawl with the traffic light."

Danny sighed and ran a hand down his face, "Sorry? We'll see if Robin's still up to fight, either that or we can spar later?"

"Hmph, fine. But don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're old and you're bones are creaky."

Danny gasped, old? Him? "Oh you're going to so pay for that comment kid."

"Oh yeah?" She asked, planting her hands on her hips and raising an eybrow.

"Yeah," Danny grinned back, with equal levels of Fenton sass.

Their standoff lasted about twenty seconds before Dani's gaze focused on something behind her original.

"What's with the guy in the leather furry suit? He's staring at us."

Ancients, could he not do one thing in this city without attracting this guys attention? Apparently not. Batman stared at Phantom and Phantom stared back. Danny groaned.

Unfortunately, with the fighting now finished and most if not all civilians safely removed from the street still dripping with ectoplasmic acid, Danny probably should, *shiver,* talk with the local heros, including the Bat himself. There was no way Danny would be able to walk out of this without setting up several more flags for the furry brigade to hunt down.

But as much as he dreaded it, for some reason Danny obeyed when Bats stared him down from a nearby roof, his eyes communicating a clear talk now or I will make your life hell, though he would probably do that anyway.

"Ugh, here comes the hard part," Danny mumbled as he motioned for Dani to follow him up to the roof. "Batman," he greeted with a curt nod when they landed. At least they were on equal ground now and it didn't feel like he was being looked down upon.

Dani landed behind him, just as Robin, Red Hood, and Red Robin materialized next to Batman.

"Hey, Traffic Light!" Dani beamed, pulling an arm across her chest to stretch her shoulder, "You wanna go again? That fight wasn't too enriching."

Robin scowled at her and shared a look with his- father? Partner? Boss?- whatever their relationship was, Batman had a hard set to his jaw, but Robin looked, not exactly pleading, but more that he wouldn't back down. Somehow Batman lost the stare off.

"Very well, your form could use improvement and I am an excellent teacher," he said, taking a few steps away from the group. In no time at all they were fighting again like they hadn't even stopped.

Robin tried calling out the flaws and tactics in the fight, but was quickly, fully, engrossed on not losing his ground or footing as Dani attacked with more brute, unrelenting, strength than with tact.

Batman stared very dissaprovingly, seemingly ignoring Danny. Danny cleared his throat in an attempt to, Ancients forbid, draw the Batman's attention back to him.

"Don't worry, Stray won't hurt him, at least not more than some bruises or maybe a small sprain if he's not careful." Shit, maybe he shouldn't have said that. The stare Batman gave him chilled Danny to the bones.

"Sorry," Danny muttered, with a sheepish grin he held out his hand, "I'm Phantom by the way, I don't think we've met."

---------

There was something about Phantom that felt vaguely familiar, Hood just couldn't quite put his finger on it. Aside from the fact that he could've sworn he'd seen this guy before, the ghost felt familiar. The vibes that seemed to exude from the glowing teens somehow felt cozy, in a way.

It was so weird. There was no way to explain it. It felt like- finding someone who was just like you, someone who shared your interests and tastes. It felt like community, like people you can rely on and a place to come home to.

The feeling was so sudden and out of place it made him want to punch something. But like in a positive way. Like when he used to wrestle with Dick or B, way back when. Something in Jason's chest seemed to sing, or more like contentedly rumble. It was something he was used to feeling around-

Hood watched as Phantom ducked his head with a nervous smile, his outstretched hand wandering back to rub at the back of his neck as he avoided Batman's glare.

"Not much for social niceties then, eh?" He asked, shooting honest to god finger guns at The Batman, personification or 'revenge and 'the night'. B's mouth drew into a tight line as he studied the ghost.

"Uhm, sorry for like, invading your territory and stuff, I'll try not to let it happen again," Phantom said, attempting to bring his eyes to meet B's gaze.

"Hn," B grunted, "Gotham is no safe place for meta's, besides, we've got the heroing thing taken care of. We don't need help."

Finally Phantom managed to lock eyes with the bat, he looked taken aback.

"Yeah, sorry. No. You kinda did need help with this one, thank you." Phantom's confidence grew as he proceeded to explain just exactly why he and Stray were needed there. Citing the Bats' underpreparedness, as well as a bunch of ghost politics stuff that was hard to follow.

Batman listened raptly.

And yeah, no. Jason had to be entirely wrong. This couldn't be him, sure the face shapes were nearly identical, and the same freckles, and actually if it weren't for the color change and differences in age they could be the same person. But they couldn't be.

Sure Jason's boyfriend could be a bit... odd, and boisterous sometimes. But he really couldn't imagine him being able to scold motherfucking Batman with that much confidence.

But still it nagged at his brain. It really was a long, long shot, that was really, very, highly, unlikely. And Jason really, probably shouldn't have said anything, but he did.

"Danny?" Phantom faltered and the way he froze at the name was almost confirmation enough. His green eyes flicked around the rooftop, then fixed on Red Hood. For a moment his mouth pulled to a slight frown and his brows furrowed, even the noise of the kids' fighting ceased as Stray- come to think of it, that was probably Dani- stared dumbfounded, with a hint of surprise. The two 'ghosts' shared a look then melted into.... laughter?

One double take later and sure enough they were laughing. It was actually kind of unsettling, all echoey and reverberating as if they found the statement absolutely hilarious. If he didn't know better, Hood would've thought they had gotten Joker gassed or something, but he did, and suddenly felt very awkward at even entertaining the notion.

Batman grumbled.

So yeah, whatever, he gad been wrong. He shouldn't have said anything. But did they really have to keep laughing like that?

Phantom was doubled over and clutching his stomach, while Stray went intangible and rolled out from under Robin, who'd had her pinned, giggling uncontrollably.

Eventually, Phantom managed to straighten out and wipe a tear from his eye.

"Who's Danny?" He asked with a few residual giggles tainting his voice. "I don't know a Danny," it was said with such ease, but something felt forced, and his eyes kept flickering around.

"Pft, yeah," Stray snorted, floating a bit to lean her elbow against her partner's shoulder, "His name's Bill actually. Y'know, like inviso-Bill?"

Phantom sobered up completely and fixed her with a glare as the kid devolved into another laughing fit.

"Its not," he said seriously, "I've been going by Phantom for thousands of years, that one nickname is not going to stick." Yeah, if there was any doubt left that he'd been wrong, allegedly existing for thousands of years probably blew that theory out of the water.

"You wish," Stray forced out between giggles, causing Phantom to sigh.

"Anyway," he emphasized, clapping his hands together as he forced a smile, "Ghost problem solved, so we should probably get going then. Right, Stray?"

"Sure thing, Bill," She snickered, but followed as he slowly drifted away form the rooftop, "cya around traffic light!"

Phantom rolled his eyes once more before they both shot off. In seconds they were gone.

B turned toward Hood, mouth already open to ask a question, but he was already gone too. He'd done his part and he could debrief later. For now he had a boyfriend and his kid to get back to.

Fifteen minutes later, Jason was back outside Danny's door with a whole new set of emotions swirling about in his head. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Danny turned form their game to look at him with his ice blue eyes, and smiled. He patted the spot on the bed next to him as Dani threw a card down with a small shout. She followed Danny's gaze and twisted to look back at Jason, blowing a strand of black hair out of her face and grinning.

"Ay, welcome back! Glad to see I'm not a deal-breaker!" Jason chuckled and took the seat, cuddling up into Danny's side. What gad he even been thinking. There was still alot of concerning things to talk about, but being a ghost/superhero was something he could cross off the list.

-even if their similarities still nagged at his brain

--------

Woop, finally did it! And with Jason's suspicions successfully waylaid, we're going to take a (planned) break, while I get swamped down with all my other projects + school.

Hope you liked.

#dpxdc damian wayne #dpxdc #dpxdc red hood #dpxdc danny phantom #dpxdc batman #dpxdc dani phantom #dead in main ship #when you accidentally kill a clown #bucket writes things #long post #fic

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galaxymagitech · 20 days

Text

No Winter Lasts Forever (No Spring Skips Its Turn)

Written for Dick Grayson Anniversary Week 2024: Day 2

Captivity | The Meaning of Robin | Rescue from Juvie

@dickgraysonweek

Summary: In which Dick is trained to be an undead assassin, refuses an unrefusable offer, loses a family, gains a family, meets a tire thief, and fights the forces of evil—not necessarily in that order.

Characters: Dick Grayson, William Cobb, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, child abuse, minor character death, Court of Owls (while the Court itself is not depicted and the specifics aren't explored, they are part of the background to a large section of the story)

The ropes break with a snap!

Dick’s parents fall to the floor.

And Dick—Dick can’t breathe—

---

They tell him that he’ll have a new family, but Dick doesn’t want a new family. He wants his dat and dej, Pop Haly, the big top. Zitka the elephant. The strongman who spoke even more languages than he did. Harry the clown. Dick doesn’t want a new family. He wants his old family back.

But no one here cares about what Dick wants. He’s dragged by the wrist to a car, and then pulled from the car, and then shoved into a large, stone complex. They take his clothes, his bag, his stuffed elephant. Give him a grey-green shirt to wear that says only “Gotham” on it. Like he belongs to the city now.

Dick has never been to Gotham before. He doesn’t know why it gets to claim him. These streets, these skyscrapers…they aren’t his home. His home is the circus tent.

He doesn’t understand.

They hate him, here. The guards, the kids, the severe woman who called herself a “social worker,” only Dick doesn’t know what that means. Everyone hates him.

Dick curls up in bed and tries not to cry. Crying is a sign of weakness. Blood in the water. He’s surrounded by sharks.

“Hey, new fish!” Someone says.

Dick doesn’t respond.

The boy snaps his fingers. “I’m talking to you!”

Dick curls even tighter.

A hand grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him roughly out of bed. Dick’s palms slam into the concrete floor, stinging furiously. He looks up to see three boys—the same three boys who beat him on his first night there.

“When he talks to you,” says another of the boys with a nasty smirk on his face, “you answer.”

Dick shudders. He doesn’t want to fight them again, but he will. He will, if he has to. He’s been here only a week, a week that’s felt like a lifetime, and he’s had to fight the others again and again.

Why can’t they just let him sleep?

The first boy snaps his fingers again. “Eyes on me, grasshopper.”

Dick looks at him tiredly.

“When,” the boy asks, eyes alight with malice, “are you going to learn?”

---

Dick hates adults.

Well, not all adults. He loved his parents. Pop Haly, and all the other circus folk. No, he doesn’t hate adults, he hates normal adults. The ones that wear suits and skirts and guard uniforms. The ones that don’t care, that hate him for daring to exist. Those are the adults he hates.

But Batman—

Batman wears a mask, and a cape, and a costume reminiscent of a circus performer, though a lot less colorful. So when Batman asks Dick to trust him, Dick tries.

The man disappears into the shadows, leaving Dick alone on the rooftop with a single promise.

---

The next day, they tell Dick that someone is here to see him. Dick is brought to the visitation room, and they don’t give him handcuffs, but he feels like a prisoner all the same. He’s too small for the chair, and his legs swing above the ground as his hands twist in his too-big shirt. Dick doesn’t want anyone to see him like this.

When the man walks in, his shoes click on the floor. Click, click, click. Dick looks up warily.

“Hello, Richard,” the man says. Dick winces. No one calls him Richard except the adults at the youth center, and Dick hateshateshates them. He doesn’t like this man either. He’s wearing a collared shirt just like the police, and his face holds none of the joy that his circus family’s does.

But Dick can tell he is wearing makeup caked onto his face, like the stage makeup all the performers wore at Haly’s, and his eyes have a yellow tint to him. He wears a cool brown coat over his shirt, too. Dick may not like him, but he doesn’t entirely hate him. Because the man doesn’t look quite normal.

“My name is William.”

It seems wrong to call an adult he doesn’t know very well by their first name, but the man didn’t give him a last name.

“Do you have a nickname you like to use?” William asks gently.

“Dick,” Dick says. It’s the first time anyone has asked. It’s the first time anyone has cared.

“Hello, Dick,” William says. “I was friends with Mr. Haly’s family.” Dick squints at William, but he doesn’t seem to be lying. His body bleeds sincerity so much that it’s eerie. “I heard about what happened to your parents. I’m sorry.” Dick shrugs. “I’d like to help you, Dick, if you’ll let me.” Dick looks up and meets his strange, yellow-tinted eyes. They both stare, for a while. Dick blinks first.

“Whatever,” Dick says.

“I want to show you something,” William says. He removes three balls from a pocket inside his coat and throws them into the air, progressively speeding up. Dick watches him, unimpressed. He can do better than that and he’s just eight. William smiles at the way Dick wrinkles his nose. “I know,” he says, catching the balls. “Not very impressive.”

“I can juggle six,” Dick says boldly.

“Do you want to show me?” William asks. He extracts three more juggling balls and places all six in Dick’s small hands. Suddenly nervous, Dick places the balls on the table and wipes his palms on his baggy brown pants. “It’s alright,” William says, reaching for the juggling balls.

“No,” Dick insists. “I can do it.” He picks them up, and gradually tosses them into the air, until he’s doing all six at once. He can’t help the smile that sneaks onto his face as he falls into the rhythmic catch-pass-throw-catch-pass-throw. When he senses his focus dwindling, he catches the balls and drops them into William’s outstretched hands.

“Excellent,” William says, and begins to juggle them himself. Unlike Dick, he does it like it’s easy, talking as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Who taught you that?”

“Ahmed,” Dick says. “He was our juggler. He could do knives.”

William adds another ball into the rotation, smoothly drawing it from his coat. “I can juggle knives too. Unfortunately, visitors aren’t allowed to bring those.”

Dick thinks that’s probably a good idea. He doesn’t want to see what the other boys would do with knives.

“If I take you out of here,” William offers, “I could show you.”

“Could you really?” Dick asks. He feels like he’s tripping headfirst down a hill in his excitement. He wants to leave. He wants to escape. And William is offering him a way out.

“Yes,” William says. “I’m working on it. I’ll be back before you know it.” He catches the juggling balls one by one, and Dick notices that he’s worked up to twelve—one more than the world record.

Dick hates normal adults, but William isn’t normal.

“I’d like that,” he says.

---

William comes back for him, just as promised. The youth center gives him his clothes back, his bag, his stuffed elephant, and Dick can feel his heart soaring. As he walks away from the barbed-wire-topped gates, William’s fingers dig into his shoulder like talons.

Dick winces. “You’re—you’re holding me too tight.”

William’s grip relaxes, and Dick lets the smile slip back onto his face. He ignores the twinge of unease, burying it deep inside.

---

William takes him to a strange building, and they take an elevator deep underground. His new guardian—that’s what the “social worker” called William—leads him down a long, marble corridor.

“Where are we going?” Dick asks.

“To your new home,” William tells him.

Dick inches closer to William’s side. “This is kind of scary,” he says. “Not that I’m scared. But it’s kind of scary.”

“You are above that,” William says.

The corridor opens into a large, circular room. At the center of it is a large statue of an owl, gleaming white. Dick doesn’t know where the light is coming from.

Hands trembling, Dick reaches into his bag and pulls out Zitka. He holds the stuffed animal close to his chest, digging his fingers into her soft fabric.

William reaches out and pulls Zitka away.

It takes Dick a moment to process, but when he does, anger fills him. “Give her back!” He says, stamping his foot. “She’s not yours, she’s mine! Give her back!”

William watches him, eyes unblinking. “You don’t need a toy, Dick.”

“You can’t take her!” Dick insists.

“Watch,” William says, stowing Zitka in his coat and pulling out six long, sharp knives. He begins to juggle them, and Dick watches as the blades glint in the unnatural light. “Doesn’t it look fascinating?”

“I want Zitka back,” Dick insists.

William sighs, and this time, he pulls out three blunt knives. “If you can learn to juggle these, I will return your toy to you. Does that sound fair?”

It’s not a nice question. When adults say that, you always have to answer ‘yes.’

---

William takes him to a room with a bed and turns off the lights. “The bathroom’s through that door,” he says. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

William shuts the door, plunging Dick into darkness. He hears the lock click.

---

The next day, William hands him a wooden sword and tells him that they will practice fighting. Dick doesn’t think this is a normal thing to do, but he doesn’t like normal. William said he knows Pop Haly’s family; maybe he’s from another circus, where they fight with wooden swords.

Dick ends the day bruised and exhausted. William sends him to his room. Dick shudders, pulling his thin blankets over him and wishing they protected him from the cold.

Each day passes much the same. William shows him a dummy and tells him which spots to hit. They’re circled in red, with words on them. Heart. Carotid. Kidney. Dick doesn’t think he’s training for a circus anymore.

“I don’t understand,” he says.

William puts a hand on his shoulder. “I serve an organization, called the Court of Owls.”

“Is that like Haly’s circus?”

William gives Dick’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, just an ounce too tight. “Almost. Like your circus, they gave me a home. A place. A life. They will give you one too.”

“What if I don’t want it?” Dick asks.

William’s face darkens and his hand grows tighter. Dick flinches, but William doesn’t let him escape. “You will.”

Dick practices. He graduates from a wooden sword to a real one. He learns to juggle the dull knives and does it for hours under William’s watchful eye. When William hands him sharp ones to try, Dick thinks of asking for Zitka back. That was, after all, the deal. But he doesn’t think his request would be well-received.

“Good,” William says, and pride shoots through Dick, but also fear. So much fear. He doesn’t like what he’s becoming. “Good.”

---

“There is a procedure,” William says, when too many days have passed for Dick to keep track of the time. He isn’t wearing his makeup today. Dick can see how pale William’s face is, like a corpse. The way his black veins twist across his skin. “It makes you strong, like me. So people can’t kill you, like they did to your parents.”

“What…what does that mean?” Dick asks.

William smiles. There’s an edge to it. Dick tries not to let his fear show. He’s been doing that a lot, these days. “They’ll give you some medicine,” William says. “And it’ll help you. Protect you. After the procedure, you can take your place at my side.”

“With the Owls,” Dick says.

“With the Owls,” William agrees. “You are almost ready.”

Dick looks at William’s face. He doesn’t think he wants to be ready. But he doesn’t dare speak.

---

“Tomorrow,” William says, holding out a hand to help Dick pull himself off the ground. He’s bleeding from shallow cuts, the product of sparring with real swords. William says those wounds won’t matter after the procedure. The procedure will protect him, and they’ll barely hurt anymore.

Dick can’t help but think that they also wouldn’t hurt if William didn’t insist on inflicting them.

“Tomorrow, you will join me as a Talon.”

“I—” Dick knows, by now, that if he says he doesn’t want to be a Talon, he will be ignored. “What will I do, as a Talon?” He asks instead.

William runs his fingers through Dick’s hair. It’s grown long, tickling at his jaw. That’s how Dick knows that he has to have been here for a while, even though he he’s lost track of the days. “There are people that pose a threat to the Court,” William tells him calmly. “You will remove them.”

“I’ll…put them in jail?” Dick asks, even though…even though William has not been training him to put people in jail.

“You will kill them,” William says. As if murder wasn’t what stole Dick’s parents from him.

“How many?” Dick asks. He thinks that if he could see himself in a mirror, his face would look almost as pale as William’s.

“As many as the Court requires.”

---

Dick doesn’t want to be a Talon. He doesn’t want to kill for people he’s never even met, even if William says he owes them his life.

Dick had a life before the Court, before William, and it was with the circus. It was with Pop Haly and dat and dej and they never would’ve wanted him to do this. His mother called him Robin. The first bird of spring. A symbol of joy, of hope, of renewal. Not of death. Never of death.

That night, Dick lies awake, terrified. He doesn’t want to go to sleep and become a Talon when he wakes up.

He likes William, but William is scary, sometimes, and as time went on, sometimes became all the time, and now—

—Dick doesn’t think he likes William very much, anymore.

Run, Robin, run! His mother cries out in his mind, and Dick shoots out of bed.

---

Dick races down the corridor, trying desperately to remember the way out. As the days have passed, William has moved him to rooms deeper and deeper into the complex.

Dick pleads that his memory is right.

His feet are bare—William didn’t give him any socks or shoes. Dick wonders if that was on purpose, to prevent him from escaping.

But he’s climbed rock-faces barefoot before with the other circus kids. A marble corridor isn’t going to phase him.

Left. Right. Right. Left. Sharp left. Secret door. Left. Left. Right. And—there.

Dick mashes the up button on the elevator and steps into it, knees shaking as he feels the floor rising underneath him, carrying him up from the ground. Until, halfway, the elevator grinds to a stop.

No.

Dick will not fail now.

He remembers that in movies, people climb out the top of elevators. This is an old one, so he’s able to scale the grated door and push out a panel in the elevator’s ceiling. There’s a metal cable, there, stretching up, up, up.

Dick climbs.

It hurts his fingers, but he climbs.

When he reaches the top, he presses at the buttons by the steel doors until they slide open. There, Dick finds William waiting for him.

“What are you doing?” William asks, as Dick leaps onto the floor.

Dick juts out his chin. “I don’t want to be a Talon.”

“It’s your destiny, Dick,” William says, tilting Dick’s chin up so Dick has to look him in his unblinking yellow eyes.

“I don’t care,” Dick says, stepping to the side and batting William’s hand away.

“You don’t mean that,” William says. “I saved you from that prison, Dick. I brought you here, so you could become a Talon.” Dick’s heart aches. He knows that William probably only wanted him for the Owls, but having the confirmation still hurts. “You belong here. With me. Don’t you want to stay?”

“No,” Dick says. “I don’t want to be here, so you have to let me go. It’s the law.”

But he doesn’t think the law applies to William. Or if it does, Dick doesn’t think William would care. “I can’t do that,” William says. “You belong here. If I have to hurt you for you to see it, I will. I don’t want to, but I will. Do you understand me, Dick?”

“You’ll hurt me?” Dick asks. William has hurt him already, but in little ways. Bruises and cuts while they trained. The way William says it this time seems worse.

“The Owls have ways to make the Talons listen to them. I didn’t want to have to use them on you. But they demand absolute loyalty.”

“What will they do to me?”

“They will take you apart and study you piece by piece, every organ on display, and then they will stitch you back together. You will be awake the whole time. It will hurt. They will put you somewhere very, very cold until you listen to them. They will make you forget your name, your parents, everything except Talon. I want to spare you that, Dick.”

“I—” Dick trembles. “I—” He feels his knees collapse under him. William catches him and holds him close. “I’m sorry,” Dick whispers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, until his hand closes around the hilt of one of the sharp knives tucked into his belt. The ones that William gave him when he graduated from the dull practice ones.

In a single, practiced motion, Dick swipes up and slices a blade across William’s throat.

The Talon releases him instantly, wound gushing black blood. Dick feels his stomach churn. The wound is already starting to heal.

“You’ll regret that,” William hisses.

“No,” Dick says, as he lunges forward and slices William’s neck again, “I won’t. I’m not your Talon. I don’t serve the Owls. I’m a Robin.”

William taught him how to fight. William taught him how to kill.

William’s head falls to the floor, and Dick screams.

---

The first time Dick steals, his hands tremble, and the man catches Dick with his hand halfway into his pocket. Dick runs.

The next time, he forces his hands still and he doesn’t get caught.

Stealing is wrong, but so is killing, and Dick killed William. William saved him, protected him, tried to give him purpose the only way he knew how, and Dick killed him.

He can’t bring himself to regret murder, so he doesn’t regret stealing either.

And the streets—the streets are so, so cold.

---

The years pass, and Dick grows accustomed to the cold—and the starvation, the fear, the danger. He knows how to clock which passersby are targets for his sticky fingers and which he should avoid and which he should absolutely avoid at all costs.

He tries performing acrobatics in the city’s squares, but every time the authorities catch him, he has to move locations, and eventually he’s exhausted all the good ones. It lasts him through the winter, at least, and the next winter he’s able to try again.

Dick missed his ninth birthday in his six months with William. He spends his tenth waiting out a late snowstorm in the cheapest motel room he could find and fighting off the thieves who try to enter. They run. Dick doesn’t kill them. He doesn’t think they’ll mess with him again.

Dick turns eleven. An older kid on the street tries to take the money he picks off a lady with a pearl necklace, and Dick punches him in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him and forces him into an armlock. “Yer good, for a runt.” Dick knows that he’s good for anyone, runt or not. He killed a Talon, after all. “Y’know,” the boy says, “I’ve got a job. Could use some help. Little security.”

“How much?”

“I just gotta listen in on somethin’ goin’ down in this warehouse over on 41st and 3rd. Fifty whole dollars. We can split it. Thirty me, twenty you.”

“Twenty-five,” Dick says. The boy agrees too easily. Dick goes anyway; he needs the money.

At the first sign of trouble, the boy pushes Dick out of their hiding place and makes a break for it. Dick ends up fighting off two of Maroni’s men and saving the boy’s hide. He makes the older boy take him back to his boss and splits the money with him fifty-fifty. “You can call me Mark,” the boy says. “I’m thirteen.”

“I’m Dick,” Dick says. “And I’m eleven.”

“Might wanna choose a different name.”

It’s not the first day of spring, but the weather’s starting to get warmer. Crocuses are sprouting through the pavement—though that might be Poison Ivy’s doing, more than anything else. “Robin,” Dick decides. “I’m Robin.”

He thinks he might have made a friend.

---

Mark hunts for information and sells tidbits of it to the highest bidder. Listens in on mob deals. Roots through the trash for information. With Dick at his side, he gets bolder. Instead of a supplement, information becomes their main dealing.

On Dick’s twelfth birthday, they steal donuts from a stand outside some sort of ritzy novelty donut store and run. When the owner comes chasing after them, they shove the donuts in their mouths and look all innocent, and by then the owner’s spotted more street kids trying to steal the donuts, so he has to rush back.

“I think,” Mark says, as they sit on a rooftop, “this is some kind of good deed or something.”

“Yeah?” Dick asks.

“Yeah.” Mark points at two kids huddled in a nearby alley, chowing down on their stolen donuts. They look about eight or nine. The age Dick was when he entered the streets.

On Dick’s thirteenth birthday, he has no one to celebrate. Mark double-crossed the wrong crime lord and ended up in Gotham Harbor.

From then on, Dick works alone. That is, until he finds a scrappy ten-year-old attempting to whack two guys with a tire iron.

---

“Jason Todd,” the kid introduces himself, once Dick’s sent the guys running and convinced the kid that he wasn’t going to kidnap him and sell him to human traffickers. He looks cleaner than most street kids, not quite as hungry, his clothes not entirely torn. But no ten-year-old would be jacking tires at midnight if he had a family at home.

Dick doesn’t know why he brought the kid back to his hideout, why he decided to share his limited medical supplies, but he did.

“Robin,” Dick tells him, as he wraps a bandage around a nasty cut on Jason’s arm. “How did you get this, Jason?”

Jason shrugs.

“C’mon.”

“When my mom died, they tried to put me in a group home,” Jason says. Dick’s heart sinks. “I wanted out. The mob that ran the place took exception to that.”

“Are they looking for you?” Dick asks. Many of the group homes in Gotham are in league with someone, but the mob ones are rare. If Jason ended up at one of those, his parents might have been involved in something dangerous.

“Don’t know,” Jason says. “Sure they got worse problems to worry ‘bout than me. Can I go now?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. “I’m not keeping you here.”

The kid climbs out his window, and Dick shakes off the urge to stop him.

---

Dick doesn’t like working for Gotham Rogues, but as time has gone by, the mobs have slowly phased out and the Rogues have phased in. He refuses to tangle with the Joker or Scarecrow, but he occasionally collects information for Ivy or Penguin. Two-Face, well, Dick would rather not be anywhere near him, but he’s not the kind of guy you can refuse.

It’s while infiltrating casino security systems for Two-Face that Dick hears about Willis Todd, the traitor. Two-Face has him killed in jail, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. He paces and paces and paces about, until someone suggests going after Willis Todd’s boy, Jason.

Dick’s heart stops in his chest, as Two-Face pauses his pacing.

“There’s an idea,” he says. He flips his coin in the air, and his lips twist into a vicious grin. “Bad heads. Guess that boy’s out of luck.”

No.

---

As a rule, Dick tries not to get involved. He runs information and he fights off any attackers, but he never gets involved in anyone’s actual operations. It’s not his job.

But while it was easy for Dick to not particularly care about various criminals killing each other, he can’t let that grumpy little ten-year-old get killed. Not when he knows that Two-Face is going after him.

Dick searches through the city and finds Jason in Crime Alley, shivering behind a dumpster.

“You’re in danger,” he warns.

“I’m always in danger,” Jason says. “What, here to kidnap me, Robin?”

“I’m here to protect you.”

Jason doesn’t believe him.

So Dick watches. He’s good at watching. He watches as Jason picks pockets and steals tires. He watches for two weeks, until he’s almost convinced that there’s no point in watching at all. And then, he sees five of Two-Face’s men corner the kid in an alleyway.

Dick drops down, joining the fray. Only, these are no ordinary goons. They fight like men possessed, like they’re doped up on some sort of substance—and Dick knows, from his recent surveillance of Ivy, that they probably are. Dick still has the knives William gave him, even after all these years. For once, he uses them. He may be out of practice, but, well, he doesn’t need much practice to shove a sharp object into a man’s gut and twist.

“R-robin?” Jason asks, voice shaky, as three of the men run away. Two lie on the cobblestones, dead.

Dick knows that if he hadn’t met William, such a display would’ve terrified him. He inclines his head. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

“Thank you,” Jason says. And then, despite the fact that Dick is carrying sharp knives and has just committed two murders, the kid rushes forward and wraps his arms around Dick’s waist. Dick returns the hug. He missed hugs so much, and this—

—this is the best.

“I killed them, Jay,” Dick says.

“Those men, they hung around my dad,” Jason says. “They were…they were real mean.”

Dick pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders. He keeps his touch light, so Jason can easily draw away at any time. He’s dangerous. Jason shouldn’t want to be held by him. But the kid just keeps clinging. “I have a place to stay,” Dick offers.

And Jason—Jason accepts.

---

After defeating Two-Face’s men, Dick has to go back on the down-low for a while. No more major information-gathering, just tiny crumbs here and there. But with him and Jason living together, they can split the work. Dick teaches him all the best pickpocketing tricks, all the ways to hide on alleyways and rooftops, how to know which information is worth selling. Jason teaches him how to jack tires and how to make himself sound more like a Crime Alley native and the stories his mom used to tell him.

Dick learns that Jason loves reading and adds books from charity stores to their limited budget. He watches Jason curl up at night with one of their flashlights, poring over Jane Austen and Emily Dickinson and Shakespeare. Sometimes, he reads them out loud, and Dick listens, providing commentary. With the Shakespeare, Jason often asks Dick to read for different characters, so they can have a mini play in their ramshackle hide-out.

It makes Dick feel like he’s almost good, for the first time since his parents fell.

---

“Little Wing?” Jason echoes, wrinkling his nose.

Dick pulls him closer as they huddle together for warmth. It’s a long, cold winter. “Because I’m Robin. And you’re little. So you’re Little Wing!”

“I’m not a bird,” Jason sulks.

“Well, then,” Dick says. “I’ll just have to teach you to fly.”

---

Rooftops are no match for Robin and his Blue Jay apprentice. Neither, they decide, are the tops of trains. It’s dangerous. It’s stupid. But Dick is sixteen and Jason is eleven. They should be playing games with their classmates in school, and this is the closest they can get.

“Watch me, Little Wing!” Dick calls, doing a flip on top of the moving train. “Wait, no, don’t copy me, Jay—"

---

“My real name,” Dick says one day, “is Richard Grayson. I was part of a travelling circus.”

Jason laughs. “Pull the other one.”

“Really! My best friend was an elephant and everything.” Dick’s heart pangs as he thinks of Little Zitka. He never did get her back from William. But he’s sixteen now, and far too old for stuffed animals anyway.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well,” Dick says, “then I’ll just have to convince you.”

---

All good things must come to an end. Jason says he’s going out, and he never comes back. Dick spends days asking around, and the rumors are conclusive: Batman found a boy trying to steal his tires and stole him instead.

Dick thinks back to when he first met Batman, with his cape and cowl and funny suit. Dick had thought that, just because he wasn’t normal like the other adults, he could be trusted.

But Dick knows better now. In the circus, strange was good. Strange was safe. But in Gotham? Strange is Two-Face and Joker and Scarecrow. Strange is William. And Dick can’t trust normal or strange.

Dick knows he can’t go up against Batman, even with six months of training to be a Talon, even with his experience fighting on the streets. He should just leave it and move on.

But Jay—

Wherever he is, he must be so scared.

Batman may not serve the Court of Owls and he may not kill, but he still hunts on the streets at night. Just like a Talon. And Dick will never leave Jason in the hands of a man like William.

---

Poking around inevitably gets Dick caught. Trapped between Batman and the police department, he makes the obvious decision, and gets picked up by social services. He’ll be out within a day.

Only, apparently, he’s the subject of an eight-year-long missing person case, several conspiracy theories, and a never-ending investigation. With everyone watching him, it’s impossible for Dick to slip through the cracks.

It’s the same story that happened eight years ago. No room in the system. Dick is sixteen and a runaway and everyone knows he’s a thief. No one’s going to adopt him, and he probably belongs in jail anyway.

They send him to the youth center again. This time, Dick can’t say he blames them.

---

Dick stretches down and lazily pushes into a handstand, wandering around upside-down as he thinks.

“Quit it, Richie,” his cellmate grunts from the top bunk.

“Fuck you,” Dick responds, balancing on one hand to give the guy the middle finger.

“I said quit it!”

It’s not a battle worth fighting. Dick sighs, walking himself back into a standing position. He lets himself fall down onto the bottom bunk, bouncing his foot.

Dick just has to wait a couple of days for this all to blow over, and then he can escape back onto the streets and continue his search for Jason. But the waiting is so, so painful. How does he know that Batman isn’t a Talon? Just because people say he doesn’t kill doesn’t mean it’s actually true. Jason could be alone with a Talon.

What if Dick didn’t actually kill William for good? What if that man has is little brother, right now? What if he’s doing all those things he said the Court did to Talons to make them obey?

Dick is startled out of his thoughts by the cell door clanging open. “C’mon,” the guard says.

“Where are we going?” Dick asks, but as usual, the adult doesn’t listen to him. They never do, unless Dick is useful, and here? Dick is useless.

The guard leads him to the social worker. Dick knows she’s the social worker because she has the same, pinched-looking face that he’d remember for a thousand years. Her hair is put up into the same tight bun, only now it’s streaked with grey. “Congratulations, Richard,” she says. “You’re being fostered.”

Dick’s first thought is that it has to be the Court, but he immediately dismisses the idea. Since he got rid of William, the Court’s been predictable about where they popped up, and they’ve never made a move on him. Dick is seventeen. All they have to do is wait six months and then they wouldn’t have to even bother with CPP. It would be stupid for the Court to have engineered this.

But Dick knows that seventeen-year-olds don’t just get fostered.

“Now?” He asks incredulously.

“Yes, now,” the woman snaps.

“Don’t I have anything to say about this?”

The social worker—Ms. Cleary, she introduced herself, apparently seventeen-year-old Dick is more worthy of her name than eight-year-old Dick was—scoffs. “Just be grateful you’re being fostered.”

“But…shouldn’t I at least meet the guy first?” Dick asks. That’s how it had worked with William—not that it had done any good at the time.

“Mr. Wayne is not some ‘guy,’ Richard,” Cleary tells him sharply. “He is one of Gotham’s first citizens.”

“One of Gotham’s first citizens,” Dick mutters under his breath. “Yeah, right.” He’s heard of ‘Mr. Wayne.’ Not involved in any organized crime, any smuggling business, any anything. He just goes to parties and donates absurd amounts of money to causes that barely help at all. Wayne isn’t particularly powerful or influential, not in the underworld where it really matters. He’s just rich.

“You’ll show him the proper respect.”

“Sure.”

Outside of the youth center, Dick can see birds perched on the barbed-wire-topped fence. He wonders if any of them are robins.

“Hello, Richard,” the man says, holding out a hand for Dick to shake. Dick eyes it distrustfully.

“Richard,” Cleary hisses, and Dick rolls his eyes and shakes Wayne’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Bruce says. “You’ll be my ward until you’ve turned eighteen.”

“Why?” Dick asks.

“Don’t mind him,” Cleary says loudly.

Wayne blinks. William didn’t blink. “It’s a reasonable question, Ms. Cleary.” He turns to Dick. “I was there that night at the circus. I had wanted to foster you, but you went missing before I could.”

“Went missing?” Dick asks. He hadn’t spared much thought for what he was registered as in the foster system, just that he couldn’t be caught by them.

“Yes, you disappeared one night, you’ll remember,” Ms. Cleary says. “We suspected you ran. No body was ever found. It was such a relief when you turned up.”

But that’s wrong. They handed him off to William. He had always—he had always thought that that part, at least, was legitimate.

Dick can see Wayne’s eyes flickering between him and Cleary with far too much intelligence for the bumbling idiot Bruce Wayne. “Let’s just go,” Dick says. He doesn’t have a bag to hoist over his shoulder, just his brown pants and the grey-green shirt on his back that reads “Gotham.” Dick thinks it’s right, this time. He does belong to the city.

It turns out that Wayne isn’t driving. Instead that’s handled by his butler. Wayne sits in the back seat with Dick. Dick tries to avoid his searching gaze.

“If you let me out here,” Dick says, “you can just tell them I ran away. I’m a flight risk, apparently.”

“Apparently,” Wayne echoes. He shakes his head. “I meant what I said. I have another ward. He’s currently staying with a friend of mine, but he’ll be back in a few days. I wish I could have taken you in earlier, but at least this way, I can help you as best I can.”

“Help me?” Dick rolls his eyes. “I don’t need help, Wayne. Just give me six months and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Call me Bruce,” Wayne says. Dick thinks he won’t, thank you very much. “Do you have a nickname, Richard?”

Dick can’t hide the flinch. (William asked the same question. William cared, only so he could use it against him.)

Wayne frowns. “Alright. I am…truly sorry that I wasn’t able to help you earlier.”

“Not your fault,” Dick shrugs. “I ran away, didn’t you hear?”

“No,” Wayne says deep in thought. “I don’t think you did.”

Dick refuses to talk the rest of the car ride.

---

Alfred shows him to his room and tells him to be down for dinner in an hour. Dick doesn’t go. He wants to see what will happen. If Wayne will tire of him, or get angry, or what. Alfred knocks on his door. “It is time for dinner, Master Richard.”

Dick could play this out further, but he’s hungry. He goes downstairs and stares suspiciously at the food Alfred serves him.

“Is it not to your liking?”

The food smells delicious. Dick’s more worried that it’s drugged.

But he has to sleep eventually, and if they wanted, Wayne and Alfred could drug him then. So he eats the food.

When he goes to bed that night, he locks the door and barricades it with a desk and a chair and he’s not even really sure why.

---

Over the next few days, Dick dodges Wayne’s attempts to talk to him. He won’t let himself be sucked into something. As soon as Wayne gets bored of him, Dick can be back on the streets, searching for Jason. Only, Wayne doesn’t seem to be getting bored easily.

Dick takes the GED study books that Alfred hands him. He thinks Jason would’ve loved the literature one.

Hell, Jason would’ve loved everything about this place. The food, the butler like out of one of his mystery novels, the library. But Jason has been kidnapped by Batman. By now, he could be dead, or worse.

“My other ward is coming home tonight,” Wayne tells Dick at dinner. “I’d like you to meet him.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dick bets it’s some snotty rich kid. At least if he can offend the brat, then Wayne might finally kick him out. Dick’s starting to get desperate, and he’s only a couple days away from moving from backtalk and eyerolling to outright theft. It’s a fine line to walk; troublesome enough that Wayne doesn’t care about him anymore, but not so troublesome that he ends up having to deal with the cops.

---

Dick stands by the door with Wayne. The man tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but the second Dick flinched, Wayne started apologizing, and Dick had called him Bruce just to shut him up. It’s pretty clear, at this point, that Wayne is nothing like William. He’s just an idiot.

The doorbell rings, and in walks a tall man with glasses, who looks like he’s trying to hide himself by curling inwards. And behind him—behind him is—

“Jason?” Dick can’t help but gasp.

“Robin?”

And before Dick can ask what the heck is going on, Jason has rushed forwards and wrapped himself around Dick, clinging to him like a barnacle.

“I…see you’ve already met?” Wayne asks awkwardly.

“Little Wing,” Dick says. Jason may be clinging to him like a barnacle, but Dick isn’t letting go anytime soon either. “I thought—Batman got you.”

Out of the corner of Dick’s eye, he sees Wayne pale. Shit.

Dick extracts himself from Jason’s grasp and turns to face Wayne, putting himself in front of Jason like a shield.

“Wait,” Jason says, tugging on Dick’s sleeve. “He’s safe. I promise.”

Dick knows better than to trust an adult. But Jason pulls him upstairs and, well, as long as Dick is watching his Little Wing, he knows he’s safe. That’s enough for now.

---

Dick’s used to hiding. Jason might not know where Batman works, but it’s easy enough for Dick to stay up and track him downstairs to his study, to turn the hands of the clock, to walk down into the cave underneath Wayne Manor. Jason said that Wayne is safe, but Dick had thought that William was safe too. Kids can be tricked.

Dick watches as Wayne performs stretches, looks something up on the Batcomputer, frowns. It doesn’t seem like he’s keeping any kids prisoner down here, at least. Dick slips through the cave to a row of what appear to be holding cells. No one is there.

“Richard.”

Dick startles, turning around to see Wayne watching him. He’s wearing the Batman costume now, though the cowl isn’t on yet. “Wayne,” Dick says.

Wayne sighs. “Please just call me Bruce.”

“Batman,” Dick says, because Wayne clearly takes exception to the use of his last name, but he can’t protestthis.

“How did you find the cave?” Wayne asks.

Dick shrugs. “Followed you.” He walks over to the Batcomputer to look at the screen, careful to keep Wayne within his peripheral vision. “Why did you really decide to foster us?”

Wayne pauses. “I’m…not sure what you mean?”

Dick walks over to the training mats, where there’s a wall of weapons. He withdraws two knives, twirling them with his fingers. “I won’t let you train Jason,” he says.

Wayne props his elbow on the desk with the Batcomputer and rests his chin in his hand. He watches Dick, gaze scrutinizing. “Someone trained you.”

Dick thinks for a moment. The Court, he could deal with. With William gone, they didn’t seem particularly interested in him anymore. But Batman? Dick doesn’t think he and Jason would be able to avoid Batman for long. And Batman, well, he hunts criminals and he supposedly doesn’t kill. There are worse monsters to serve.

Dick isn’t a child anymore. Jason is.

“Yes,” he says. Dick looks over at the training dummies and tries to blink the visions of the Court’s marble corridors from his eyes. He lets the knives fly from his hands and embed themselves in two of the dummies’ hearts. “Whatever you want, my help will be more than enough.”

A pained expression flickers across Wayne’s face. “I didn’t bring Jason or you here to train.”

Dick doesn’t believe him. He’s long past falling for pretty lies.

“I swear,” Wayne says. “If you want, you will never have to fight again.”

Like Dick has ever had a choice. He doesn’t know what to say, so he falls back on the bottom line. “If you try to train Jason, I’ll kill you.”

Wayne’s mouth opens and then closes. “That won’t be necessary,” he says eventually. “Someone hurt you, Richard. I know it’s difficult to believe I won’t do the same, but I promise. I won’t hurt you or Jason, and I won’t ever make you do something you don’t want to do.” Dick meets Wayne’s eyes, watches his emotions swirl within the blue irises. Wayne blinks first. “I hope you can let me prove it to you.”

Dick doesn’t know quite what to say to that. Wayne seems too good to be true, just like William did. Dick has no reason to trust him.

But Dick doesn’t need to trust Bruce to give him a chance.

“Dick,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“It’s my nickname. No one calls me Richard. My name’s Dick Grayson.”

#fanfiction #dick grayson #william cobb #jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #talon dick grayson #batman fanfiction #dc #dcu #dc comics #dick grayson fanfiction #dc fanfiction #fanfic

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traitorousarsonistpartner · 4 months

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Random idea that @adhdslugcrimes will love when he's back

Jl meeting.

Batman: And so that concludes that piece of business. And we should have lunch before we continue.

*Batman slides some of the food into his cape but isn't eating*

*The cape rustles a bit and chewing can be heard*

JL besides Clark: What the fuck?

*Clark who can see inside the clown car of a cape that is hiding 5 of Bruce's kids including Jason and Dick*: Why is your cape using Tardis tech?

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oh-for-fic-sake-library · 2 years

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A line is drawn

Masterlist

Summary: Superman finally finds his limit. And he makes it abundantly clear.

Warnings: angst, darkish superman?, violence.

A/N: just a random little angsty drabble. Tried to switch up my writing style abit in this, just doing a few writing exercises. I hope you enjoy.

People whispered about the death of superman. The final cry of the alien echoing across the city, the cry causing ripples out in the bay swaying boat and shaking windows. A final war cry of a god. His death was still a victory for the city, for man kind.

But that had been nothing compared to the low mornfull furious cry. Buildings shuddered, dust wafted from ceilings and roofs windows cowered some cracked and shattered. Car alarms began screeching as if panicked by the fearfull cry.

Everyone had froze. Time had stopped.

All eyes were on the man of steel as his framed crouched over the body of an unknown woman. She laid still, arms either side of her head face down in the asphalt. Her hair was loose and splayed, sheilding her identity from all the onlookers. Blood began seeping from below her.

Superman tugged the woman close. Rolling her over calljng out to her name. His eyes glossed over as the womans head lolled back and forth. Then a whimper.

The whole crowd released a sigh as the woman soft pained cries carried through the silence. The god shoulders sagged, cape draping over the ground. And suddelny there were calls for an ambulance.

"Clar-Kal? Kal please.... pl-please it hurts" the words were weak and airy. Hissing pants, air being sucked through clenched teeth.

At the womans voice superman seemed to realise she was still alive. He tipped his head down, quickly scanning the woman whose hands were now holding her abdomen. The bullet wound hidden beneath. He sighed thanking god before touching foreheads and pressed a sweet kiss to the woman.

"I will fix this, the ambulanceis comming. Its not hit anything to serious. You'll be okay, youll get better. Youl, be safe. I promise you i will make this city, this country, this world safe for you." The woman shovered, but nodded mewling 'okay'.

But joker managed to regain everyones attention as he waved his gun around in a frantic joy. He was elated playful like a child. He seemed to enjoy his madness as much as he enjoyed the mayhem he caused. There seemed to be a sense of pride arohnd him. Proud of how close he had come to shaking the unshakeable. breaking the unbreakable. He had found the man of steels weakness.

'"Oh? Deary me! I didnt do a good job of that did i boy scout?" If the scene wasnt tense before it certainly was when the clown spoke.

The man of steels shoulders squared and his eyes glowed. Igniting whe his vision locked onto the green hairs clown.

"Take another step and see what happens clown" the voice was almost unhindged. Fury biteing into every word. The loathing was plunged into the syllables, a growled his that threaded threat into each word. There was a respunding quiver of fear shared by everyone present. Joker smiled oh no. His voice

"Step? Oh no no no~ i wont step closer, i promise." The mad man cooed standing on his tip toes mimming almost falling forward. But then skipped back finishing his announcement with a chilling laugh.

"I dont need to take another step, the good thing about guns means i can? Well here let me just try again;" the joker didnt even finish his sentance. No one could even registerhis words before there was a flash. A red flash, molten heat roared over the woman drawing a yelp.

But only her yelp was heard. Joker didnt stand a chance, the force of supermans rage knocked him off his feet, butthe heat had cremated him befor he could drop to the floor.

Everyone held their breath, shock ringing out in screaming silence. Metropolis had just changed. Superman had commited murder, in broad daylight in front of millions. But none could manage a sound. The sirens of an ambulance called out, hauntingly across the quiet scene.

Superman looked down to the woman.

"This world will be safe my love. It will be safe for both of you. I swear" he cooed, one hand moving to cup her lower abdomen. That was when it all became clear. Superman had drawn a line. And he will kill for his family without hesitation.

#henry cavill #cavillry #oh for fic sake fics #superman #superman imagine #superman drabble #dark!superman #dark!clark kent #dark!clark

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mxtantrights · 10 months

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The Series Finale

it's time to say goodbye. let me just say right now I plan to make this part a bit longer than the others. I love the little universe I created and I love love love how many of you guys interacted with it. there will be a few small parts after this but other than that, get ready to say goodbye!

According to Cosmopolitan there are multiple ways to spend your twenty third birthday. Cake and candles sure. Presents yes. Drinks surely. Friends and family absolutely.

About to puke because you're about to make your red carpet debut with your boyfriend? Well...

You were offered so many dresses for the ceremony but honestly you couldn't pick just one. So you offered to wear all of them at any upcoming event, except for tonight.

Tonight is Oscars night. And you wanted to make a splash. A makeshift tuxedo with just the tight sleeveless white button down and black tweed shorts with a black cape attached to the back that reaches your feet.

The outfit is already ironed and hanging in front of you on the bathroom door.

You can't believe that you're nominated for an Oscar. You couldn't believe when your manger and agent asked if you wanted to submit yourself for a nomination. But here you are.

The glam team is amazing. Yeah they made you look magical but you missed Delores badly. She could talk you down your ledges when you got like this. So can Jason but you were shy about talking to him around new people.

You look down so that eyeliner can be applied.

"Woah." someone says.

Another person asks what it is. You can't ask, you're too nervous and you're in the middle of being made over.

"Luthor is done." someone answers.

You wait for the makeup artist to finish your liner before you open your eyes. You don't want to get poked.

When you do, you turn around to face the artist in the back.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

One of them, a small girl with cotton candy pink hair and an all black ensemble comes up to you. She shows you her phone. On the screen in bold red letters.

LUTHOR'S TYRANY OUT, UNION WINS!

Your eyes go wide and you can't help the squeal the comes out of your mouth. The sound makes everyone quiet down in the room.

"Sorry-I just, I have to make a call! I'll be right back!" you say.

Then you're rushing. Out of your chair, and out of the living room of the hotel and into the bedroom. You keep the door open as you shuffle through your bag to find your phone.

When you find it, there are several missed calls. Your manager, your agent, and Jason. You shoot quick text to your manger and agent that you saw the news.

Then you call Jason.

He picks up on the first ring.

"Babe did you see it? Did you see the news?" he shouts.

He's loud but you don't care. It's Jay. You'd deal with the high volume forever.

You smile, "I saw! I saw! I can't believe it. Does this mean we can go back to work?"

"I just sent a text to Harvey, he said he's working out details now with the lot mangers."

"What about the strikers?" you ask.

"I got a text from Damian here hold on," he hums to himself, no doubt scrolling through his texts with his tongue out, "yup. Nyssa and the others got everything they bargained for."

"Oh that's so good. I couldn't go back to work if I knew they didn't win this strike. Can you win a strike?" you say.

You hear him laugh on the other end, "I'm not sure how that works, hun. Wait-did I interrupt you, you're getting ready right?"

"I was..." you trial off.

"Okay go, go, go. I'll see you on the carpet-" he starts.

"Wait can I call you when I get in the car?" you interrupt him.

"Isn't it like bad luck to see me before?" he asks.

You laugh, "Jay this isn't our wedding."

He hums at first which gives you pause. Not a bad pause but a a kind where your mind is racing with thoughts. Thoughts about you and Jason and how serious you guys are.

Jason is a jokester sometimes. Yeah his dad's emo phase can always be slipped into the conversation, but there are certain things he doesn't tease about. Clowns and bad haircuts to name two.

"Jay?" you ask.

"I'll see you on the carpet sweetheart." he answers.

There's no sadness in his voice. He sounds normal. But you can't help but notice theres still more to it.

And then because it's Jason he doesn't hang up first. No. He waits for you to hang up which you are reluctant to do because of what he said. But you do only because the makeup team is waiting and you aren't in your outfit yet.

You quickly walk back out to your makeup chair.

From there it's actually a pretty easy process. They put the final touches on your makeup and give your hair a blowout. Then you're in the bathroom putting on your outfit.

Within an hour you're tucked into the backseat of a town car. Your usual driver, Mike, is on vacation. So most of the talking comes from your agent and manager.

The drive isn't long. The hotel you were getting ready at wasn't too far from where the awards were taking place. You were excited but tremendously nervous.

In the backseat you ring your fingers and your leg is bouncing up and down. If Jason were sat beside you, you wouldn't be this nervous. You want call him but honestly he needed to get ready too. And you didn't want to talk about your relationship in front of three people who weren't in it.

So you sit in silence. You smile and nod when you're asked questions, all the way until the drive pulls up to the theatre.

You can hear the cheering and the clambering outside before the door even opens. You are escorted out of the car and outside. You manager is telling you which reporters are ready to speak to you and how long to pose for each picture.

And that sounds good and all. But your eyes catch on you man. Huddled around his team in a suit. He doesn't seem to notice you yet. You watch as he nods along and his green eyes flitter around.

You can't help the smile on your face. Somehow, because it's Jason Todd, he can feel you smiling somewhere in his vicinity. His eyes lock on you instantly.

Yeah you could totally see yourself walking down the aisle, and him waiting for you at the other end. One day.

You wave at him and he does the same, a smirk on his face.

Of course you probably won't be able to speak to him until you're done on the carpet. There were so many people in line to be interviewed and photographed. It's not like it was at your first movie premiere where he could just join you.

"You stopped listening the moment you saw him didn't you?" you manager asks.

Your eyes widen as you finally look back at her and your agent. They are looking right back at you with big smiles. Nervously you rub the back of your neck.

"To be be fair I was listening for a very long time before that." you answer.

"Sure you were, okay well you know basically everything. We'll be near you incase you need us." your agent says.

You nod your head once.

From there it's relatively easy. You get guided to the line for the carpet. Both your agent and manger sooth your nerves a bit. They talk about how good the work you've done is, how you deserve to be here and deserve to be nominated.

And as you get your picture taken you do well to listen for instruction but also stand your ground. The photographers are shouting different things all at once and it's hard to follow all of them at the same time. But when your manager waves you over to an interview you know you're done.

The first interview goes by quickly. You talk about the end of the strike and what you missed most about filming, how honored you are to be nominated and you can't wait for the after party.

The second interview is more fun. That comes from Edward Nigma being really good at his questions. He asks about your humble beginnings, what your passions are outside of acting, and what you would do with more free time.

By the time you get to your fifth and final interview your brain is working on autopilot. You smile. You answer the questions in a bright voice. You thank the interviewer. The camera pivots to someone else and the microphone is taken away.

You are so tuned out that you don't notice Jason come up behind you. You had thought he was in front of you, in the theatre already. But there is only one person in the world who knows the exact juncture between your shoulder and your neck to press a kiss to.

When you feel his lip on your skin you turn around.

"Hi there." he says.

You smile and reach up to fix his bowtie, "Hey yourself handsome."

"This ole thing?" he jokes.

"You look-well I should keep that to myself. Privacy and all that." you say.

He smiles and his hand is cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch. All the nerves that your manger and agent tried to subdue finally fall to the side. You feel at ease.

"I made sure that our seats are close. At least until they call you up when you win." he says.

You snort, "Jason it's not gonna happen."

He hums, "I don't know. I would never count you out."

Soon enough you and Jason make it your seats where you have the same tiff. He thinks for sure you're gonna win while you're convinced that it won't happen.

The show starts off with a performance, courtesy of Dinah Lance. She looked amazing in her all black dress, a high slit that revealed the fishnets underneath.

You clapped at others wining awards. The composer for your movie won. And the sound mixers, designers and graphic designers too. As you got close and closer to your category you felt the turn in your stomach.

When your category finally got called Jason entangled his hand in yours. His fingers slated into yours, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. The announcers spoke all the names in the category including yours and you are sure your ears just went static.

And then you heard your name again. You look over at Jason, who has a huge smile on his face. You let out a curt breath as he helps you get to your feet. The roar of applause takes over the static in your ears.

You can't help to be shocked. Shocked as Jason helps you up the steps to accept the Oscar. You look back at him on the last step, his hand still in yours, and you bring his hand to your mouth and kiss the back of his hand.

"You did it, you did it." he says.

And then he's letting go so you can walk onto the stage and accept your award.

LEX LUTHOR IS OUT! READ FOR MORE DETAILS ABOUT THE END OF HIS HOSTILE TAKEOVER.

UNION WINS BIG! LUTHOR IS A WASHED UP TYRANT, READ FOR MORE!

THE OSCARS! READ NOW TO SEE ALL THE WINNERS INCLUDING "LOVE IN PIECES" ACTRESS!

You watch from your bed as Jason walks into the bedroom. He's only sporting a towel on his waist. He knows what he's doing, he's devious like that. And delicious.

From across the room you eye him. He turns his back to you as he ruffles through the cabinet for clothes. Except he's definitely going through your drawer and not his so he's not going to find what he's looking for. But you take it because you can stare right at his back.

"Baby do you need help?" you ask.

He turns around and shuts the drawer with his hips.

"Now that you've asked, yes. yes I do need help. Only the kind you can provide." he answers.

You begin to laugh at his eagerness. He struts over to you with all the swagger of a frat boy. You can't help the snort that comes from you and he smiles too.

"This is supposed to be sexy!" he says.

"Oh it is, but it's so rehearsed. I love it though." you smile.

Jason sighs. And then all of a sudden he's laying on top of you and putting all his weight on you. You know he's doing it on purpose because in the early days of this relationship Jason did his best to not even lean his body weight onto you.

That went out the window three months after you started dating.

"Jay you wanna talk about it?" you ask.

He mumbles something but you can't hear his words. How could you when his head it nestled into your neck. His stubble is tickling you in the best way possible. You reach up and card your hand through his hair.

"Didn't hear a word you said baby." you say.

He picks his head up and looks at you now, with a pout on his lips. You lean in and give him a small peck. He of course isn't good at taking only one peck, always the needy one. He leans in and gives you three more.

"I'm just trying to seduce my Oscar winning partner. Is that so bad?" he asks.

You shut your eyes with a giggle, "Oh not this, come on it's not a big deal."

"It's literally the biggest of deals. Like it's one of the four biggest deals. You're close to an EGOT hun." he rambles.

You peel open one eye and look at him. How could you disagree with that face? And those eyes? You cup the side of his face with your hand.

"Thank you for making me feel like a big deal. I promise I do find you sexy." you say.

Jason lets out a dramatic sigh of relief, "Thank you. And anyways I'm just following your cosmopolitan article." he says.

Your eyes widen and you gasp.

"Jay! You did not just take advice from a magazine, you're like a walking greek god." you laugh.

"Greek god you say?" he asks.

But he isn't asking. Not when he starts planting kisses on your shoulder and your neck. It makes you giggle and it makes your stomach warm. You wrap both of your arms around him.

"I can't believe I get to be on set with you tomorrow." you say.

"I can't believe I get to be on set with my Oscar winning co-star." he replies.

"Does this mean I get top billed?" you ask.

"I wrote it into my contract a long time ago, keep up sweetheart." he says.

CAMERAS ARE ROLLING: LOVE ON THE MEND CREW IS BACK!

LOVE ON THE MEND: EVERYONE IS BACK ON SET, SEE PICS.

WHEN CAN WE EXPECT TO SEE LOVE ON THE MEND THEATERS? CLICK FOR INFO!

Jason stands in the door of your shared trailer. He was told to come and bring you on set to start filming a scene between you two. It had started with Jason's character by himself and then you were to appear as a daydream.

Which, he definitely said you already do, no matter how cheesy that sounded. You still gave him a peck for such beautifully strong words.

When he got to the trailer door he heard you singing already. He had gotten you some new headphones since you kept complaining about your earbuds going wonky. He was surprised how long you hung onto those, five years.

Now he's watching you sing along as you rearrange the script on your table. The only way you could learn lines fast enough was to spread them all out and keep them in your peripheral vision. He's not sure how you do it.

But he watches as you tap your feet along to a tune he doesn’t know and with your hands on your hips you stare down the papers. You’re already dressed in the scene outfit, a white dress. Simple but enough to make his heart do the thing where he thinks nothing can be real if you exist.

He can’t help to be transfixed on you. He leans against the doorway and just watches with a smile.

Truthfully he couldn’t believe the person of his dreams was dating him and smiling his way, sending him gifts and letting him spend time in their bed. And when he says person of his dreams he means it.

The first time he saw your face wasn’t when the two of you were sat in a room going over the movie contract. Nope. He think he’ll take this secret with him to the wedding aisle and wait until he can slip it into his vows how bad he has it for you.

On moments like this, when it’s just you and him, he wants to tell you so bad. But he thinks waiting is the better option. What other way to press you ?

All of a sudden you’re turning around and you literally jump at this sight of him. Your mouth goes from a gaps to a smile. Then you’re bustling over to him and throwing your arms around him, earbuds still in.

“Missed you sweetheart.” he says.

His hands wrap around your middle. He could literally lock his arms together and not let you go but that would be unwise and costly. Filming and all that. So he settles with just having his body pressed up against yours, warm and inviting.

You bite back a laugh, “Jay we woke up in the same bed a couple of hours ago!”

“I’m a simple man. You’re gone for more than ten minutes I miss you.” he explains.

He watches the way your eyes go wide first and the smirk that dances it’s way across your face. Your fingers card through the hair at the back of his head.

“I’m sorry baby. Wanna go to set together?” you ask.

He smiles, “I am personally here to see to that. Come on.”

You untangle yourself from him, which earns you a groan. He watches as you scoop up the papers on the table and pull on a robe to cover your costume. He doesn’t mind because he knows you two are about to be filming for an hour or so and he’ll see all of you then.

A vision in white.

“Come on bub.” you say.

And the definitely kick starts something in him. He smiles and follows you out of your trailer. The two of you walk all the way to the set. For the sequence being filmed today you two would just be fooling around in a very chic and vibrant living room and then bedroom.

Then you two get on set of course you are pulled in a different direction than him. You’re going over your lines with one of the writers. Then you’re getting touched up by the makeup artists. Touch ups with your costume. And then Harvey wants a word.

Jason lets himself get pulled too. Touch ups. Lines. Harvey. Sure. He doesn’t mind really. Because he’s basically filming his everyday life with you.

When Harvey calls action you and Jason take your spots. Jason takes your hands into his and brings each of them to his lips. You roll your eyes at him, as depicted in the script.

The two of you get into sync fairly quickly. You two are standing in the living room. The fake window open and the curtains moving in the breeze. Your hands wrapped around his neck, dancing to music that isn’t playing.

Then you two are on the couch in different positions. Him on the floor, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder. The two of you laying on one another on the couch. Him sitting normally and your legs over his lap.

Finally it was time to get to the bedroom scenes. They were noting raunchy. Just the two of you goofing around. You chase him around the bed, you end up pinning him down and tickling him. Then you two are sitting with your backs against the head board, your hands together and fingers intertwined.

At some point Jason is moving you forward to personally fluff your pillows, which makes you laugh. You lean over and kiss his cheek, which makes him smile.

Then Harvey is yelling cut and everyone’s moving around set. You will have to film a couple more takes of this scene but you don’t mind. How could you? You get to fool around with your favorite person in the world like you usually do sans cameras and you were getting paid for it.

You have already gotten so used it this, you remember what life was like before he was in it and hope you never have to do that again.

LOVE ON THE MEND SHOOTS FINAL SCENES! HARVEY TALKS ABOUT ONE-UPING HIS OWN ROMCOM!

COUNTDOWN TO LOVE ON THE MEND: MONTHS! KEEP UP WITH SET PICS HERE!

The press junket was just as nerve wracking the second time around. Yeah that was never gonna change. Tons of people asking you questions over and over was hard. Making sure to sell the movie and not spoil it was even harder.

You had been paired with Jason the first time and he was really good at playing off your vibe. But that had been before you were dating. Now things were different. There would be more questions about the two of you outside of the film. Part of you didn’t care, but a bigger part of you worried about what you would say.

The next interviewer comes in with the BBC-Bludhaven Broadcasting Channel. They were always polite and playful. You aren’t worried. And that worry drops even more so when you see Donna Troy walk in.

“Hi guys!” she says.

You both wave at her, “Hi!”

You watch as she gets mic’ed up. And then she’s sitting in front of you both with purple notecards. She talks to the imaginary audience first and then you.

“So, guys, obviously you’ve cooked up some good stuff that has gotten awards. One in particular because now we’re sitting with an Oscar winner.” she says.

And you still can’t believe it yourself so whenever someone else brings it up you can’t help to be bashful about it.

“Oh…” you laugh.

Jason points to you with both his hands, “If anyone was unclear, it’s not me.”

You wave off his hands which he dodges and still points to you. But he cuts it out soon enough, he knows you too well to let it drag on.

“It’s a big accomplishment, so congrats!” Donna says.

You smile, “Thank you.”

“So you’re basically an EGOT now—“ she starts.

You burst out laughing at that and so does Jason. Then Donna too but she tries to compose herself for the most part, clearing her throat and adjusting her hair. You pull yourself together.

“I mean yeah. Sure.” you answer.

“So have you decided what you’ll melt the gold down into?” She asks with a straight face.

Jason yelps, “Donna?!”

“Maybe a house key.” you say blankly.

“Good for you!” she says.

“But I can’t now because I just admitted to it on camera. I’ll have to come up with something else.” you joke.

“Of course, and you can text me your idea. It’ll stay between us.” she adds.

You nod your head, “You’re on speed dial actually.”

“Number nine?” Donna jokes.

“No you’re at—wait do they still do numbers? Okay wait never mind, I meant you’re in my favorites.” you answer.

Donna gasps and holds her hands, and notecards, to her heart.

“Okay Jason,” she holds out her notecards again, “what type of hair gel do you use on set?”

“I legally can’t answer that actually because no one on set would tell me the products they used in fear that I would just buy them myself and do their work for them.” he answers.

“Remember when you gave yourself a bowl cut?” she asks.

You laugh again, “What?!”

“That was one time—and I didn’t look that bad!” he shouts.

“I remember your brother said you cried yourself to sleep for two weeks.” Donna says.

You wrap your arm around his shoulder and pull him in closer, “Aw Jay, you had a bowl cut?”

“Very funny sweetheart.” he says.

You pinch his cheeks, “I kinda wish I could see it.”

“Oh but you can!” Donna says.

She fishes out her phone.

“Donna! No!” Jason yells. The two of them start full in running around the room. You watch in amusement.

“Donna slow down I did Hot Ones yesterday and I haven’t been the same since.” Jason says.

You laugh even harder at that.

JASON TODD BEING IN LOVE WITH HIS CO-STAR AND PARTNER FOR 38 MINUTES!

THE STARS OF LOVE ON THE MEND TALK SET SECRETS, THE BIG OSCAR WIN AND WHATS NEXT!

CAST OF LOVE ON THE MEND BEING CHAOTIC AND ALSO COMEDIANS FOR FOUR MINUTES STRAIGHT.

Dinner at Wayne manor was something you had been equal parts ready and unready for. How doe sone prepare to dine across Bruce Wayne? The man was the heartthrob of the 80s and 90s.

It’s not like you could say definitively you didn’t have a crush on your boyfriends father at one point in your life. And maybe that’s the part that’s throwing you off. That and the fact that it’s a real family dinner and not another bustling gala thrown to draw you and Jason out of our recluse.

You had finished filming and in another three months the film would be out. But you and Jason have been using that time for yourselves.

Sure you’d hang out with your friends and go out in public from time to time. But technically the press junket was over for a month and change.

And the two of you wanted to be just that, the two of you.

There were long nights at the beach, trips to the bookstore, date nights. It was easy and fun and your own bubble with Jason. No one came around to poke it.

So stepping into Wayne manor felt like your bubble was really close to a garden of cacti. Ready to burst at any moment. You and Jason tug off your jackets and put them on the coat hanger.

Once you’re done you stand still as Jason starts to move around. It takes him five seconds to realize that you had stayed glued to the hardwood floor. He makes a u turn and comes back over to you.

“It’s low stakes by the way since they all love you anyways.” Jason says with his hand on the small of your back.

You can’t help to snicker, “And more than you right?”

“But every year without fail I get birthday presents that are well thought and planned in advance.” he answers.

Before either of you can say another word, Damian comes from one of the doors. He is dressed in his school uniform and you can’t help to smile at how cute he looks.

“Damian!” you shout.

He comes running over to you and hugs you. The sight makes Jason surprised but also very happy. Damian wasn’t a hard person to please, he just took time and has a lot of boxes to check off. And you managed to do all of that within the time you stepped into his life.

You hug the boy back.

“I missed you. So has Sir BillingsWorth.” he says.

“I missed you too. But I’m free the next few weeks, we can plan something.” you offer.

Damian pulls always immediately, “I will be vacationing the upcoming week but after that.”

“Oh cool, where are you going?” you ask.

Jason snickers, “Don’t ask or you’ll have to be part of his alibi later on. Trust me.”

“Shut it Todd.” Damian whispers.

“So what inhumane zoo are you planning on raiding next?” Jason asks.

You look at Jason shocked. You think surely Damian Wayne isn’t going to raid an entire zoo by himself. He’s got a big heart for animals and would do anything for them. But would his father just allow him to—wait he’s done this before. You sworn you’ve seen an article about him leaving an animal sanctuary with a lump in his jacket.

“Don’t plan any trips to the south any time soon.” Damian answers simply.

And then he’s off. You two watch in bewilderment as his small body disappears behind another door. You turn to Jason. “He’s more like you than either of you care to admit.” you say.

Jason gasps, “Bite your tongue!”

Jason manages to get you to start moving again. With his and still on your back he walks you all the way to the dinning room. There at the table is the Wayne family. And no they aren’t sat quietly at their seats.

Damian is picking up food from a plate and setting it down on the floor. Your eyes follow his actions to see a big dog sitting on the floor underneath the table. Titus. You look back up when Bruce tells Damian to not overfeed him. Tim and Steph are snickering on their phones. Duke and Cass are playing a hand-game very loudly. And then there is Dick Grayson. He’s the only one in the family you haven’t met yet. He was always just busy. Sure you’ve interacted online before but this was different.

“Guys!” Jason shouts.

Everyone goes stone still and looks your way. All at once they start trying to talk to you which makes you even more nervous. Jason has to reign them in again for you.

“Guys!”

They all stop.

“Hi…” you trail off.

“Welcome, please sit. There’s plenty of food.” Bruce answers.

You and Jason take your seats at the end of the table, across from each other. Coincidentally Jason takes the seat next to Duke which means you take the seat next to Dick.

He smiles your way and offers you his hand. You take it and shake it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” he says.

“You as well.” you answer.

“It would have been sooner but I’ve just been a bit busy—“ he starts.

You shake your head, “No no no, it’s okay. Plus we’re meeting now.”

“Thanks to my little brother, who by the way I’ve never seen like this before.” Dick says.

“Like what?” you ask.

“L-word.”

Is your heart beating in your chest? You have to make sure. Surely it is. But surely it isn’t if Dick Grayson is telling you that his brother is in love with you. It’s not like you don’t know how much he cares for you, you see it every day, he shows it and tells you all the time. But to have someone else see inside the bubble you two made…

You look over at Jason who is trying to get in on the hand-game between Duke and Cass. You can’t help to smile.

You had known for some time now that you’re in love with him but to hear it might be in love with you. Yeah that would be everything.

LOVE ON THE MEND CO-STARS BEACH ESCAPADE? SEE PICS FOR YOURSELF!

NYSSA AL-GHUL: UPCOMING SHOW, STRIKE WIN, AND LOVE ON THE MEND (SEE WHAT WAS SAID ABOUT HER CO-STARS BUDDING ROMANCE)

“Okay I just finished the boxes in the kitchen.” Jason says.

You nod, “Good. I’m closed to finish in here, just one more box. It’s your books.”

“You can stack ‘em any way you want. I’m gonna start on lunch.”

“Okay!”

You had been tasked with unpacking the living room. Or, unpacking Jason’s stuff into your living room. Your press junket was about to start again in two weeks and you had asked him on the sly if he would like to make your living arrangement more permeant.

He spent more hours at your house than he did his own. And it’s not like he’s giving up his house either. He just took all the things he needed or wanted from there and put them in boxes so that he could have them here.

Most of the things were needed. Clothes. Bath bombs and his skin care routine. His laptop and his gaming system. Alf of course his books. You think if he could Jason would retire from acting and become a book seller or a book keeper. Maybe both.

You tear open the box with your hands and find it filled with books. Romance books. You knew he was a romance guy but you severely underestimated how much that was true. You pull out stacks at a time and put them on the floor.

Then you being to shelve them by author name on the bookcase you just brought for him. You would do color but every time you go to his house you notice Jason has them sorted either by name or height.

As you get to the last books your eyes catch on something familiar. And what would be more familiar than your own face?

You pick up the book slowly. There is no way. There is no way he just has this book? When did he find it?

You remember your manager telling you that the books stopped using your face a few months ago. Which means anyone who had them had brought them from re-sellers who had gotten them during the time the print was still active.

“Uh, quick question.” you say.

“Shoot, lover.” he says. Then he’s walking into the living room where you are. He looks right at you without a worry on his face. He’s got on the apron you brought him as a joke. It was bright red and in white letters said ‘wanna lift the hood?’

His eyes then fall to the book in your hand and his smile drops. You watch in real time as his ears then his cheeks go red. He scratches behind his head.

“So you have this book with my face on it…” you trail off.

Jason laughs sheepishly. Then all of a sudden he’s taking off his apron and sitting next to you, like on his knees and his body angled right at you. You want to laugh at his alertness but you don’t want to ruin the moment.

“Look it’s not weird—I just had it before I met you. I didn’t, well if you want someone to blame you can find Bruce because he gifted it to me.” Jason rambles.

You nod along, “so you totally knew who I was when we first met?”

“No I didn’t know who you were, I know how you looked which is completely different. I mean sitting across from you was like a dream come true.”

“What?” You ask.

Jason breathes out slow. You watch this and decide to take his hands into yours. Your thumbs rub across the back of his hand, trying to comfort him, and urging him to go on.

“I have liked you from the moment I saw you, which was because of this book cover. And then one day you’re sitting across from me in a room about a romcom and I swore that fate or destiny was real because it lead me to you. And I can’t even begin to tell you how in love with you I am.” he speaks.

You know you’re tearing up because you sniffle through your nose. Which makes Jason let go of your hands and cup both sides of your face.

“Don’t cry, hun.” he says.

“Sorry I’m just—you’re just. Everything.” you respond.

“I was planning on telling you.”

You cock your head to the side, “When?”

“I guess after we had a conversation about how we both feel about marriage.” he answers.

Your eyes go wide.

“It doesn’t have to be now, don’t worry sweetheart. I can wait if your not ready. Or I can be okay if you won’t be ready.” he starts.

You shake your head violently, “No Jason it’s not that.”

How do you put it into words? How do you tell the man you’re in love with that you would marry him no questions asked and no regrets on a moments notice? How do you put it all nice and neat?

You turn your face inward and press a cheek to the inside of his hand. Jason smiles. You can faintly see his eyes get watery.

“Jason, growing up I didn’t think I was the marriage type. I always thought marriage was a thing you do for something or someone. But when I’m with you it’s different. It’s something I want to do with you.” you explain.

“You wanna marry me?” he asks softly.

You nod your head, “Whenever, wherever.”

Jason can’t stop smiling. You can’t either. And when he pulls you in for a kiss it’s a mess of lips and teeth and giggles. But neither of you care. And neither of you care when you fall over top of him and he’s laying onto of his books that are poking into back.

This is what you wanted for the rest of your life. Jason Todd.

LOVE ON THE MEND PREMIERE WEEK: CATCH AN ADVANCE SCREENING AT THE GREEK THEATRE!

CRITICS CALL LOVE ON THE MEND JASON TODD’S BEST PERFORMANCE TO DATE! ROTTEN TOMATOES STAYS AT 95%!

DAMIAN WAYNE SHUTS DOWN ILLEGAL ANIMAL FARM IN FLORIDA, BRINGS HOME A NEW PET!

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd fic #Jason todd x you #dc x you #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc fic #famous dc!au

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