#maybe stephanies still dead

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

dead, to begin with

A few weeks after the loss of Stephanie Brown and the return of Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is visited by the ghosts of Robins past, present, and future.

____

@amonthofwhump‘s 12 Days of Whumpmas Prompt: Holiday Haunting

You can find resources related to the current Roe crisis on my sideblog here.

(tw blood, gore, unreality, past child death, past child abuse, past malnutrition, animal death, forced feeding, strangulation)

Also posted on Ao3 here.

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There’s a body squirming against him, warm breath stirring across his cheek. For a heartbeat Bruce wonders if it’s another date whose name he’ll have to pretend not to remember, but no, even before he cracks his eyes open he can tell that the body is far too small.

He turns his head slightly, blinking against the low light in his bedroom. There’s a tangle of black curls snuggled up under his arm, chin resting on his chest. Blue eyes blink up at him, tiny lashes fluttering.

For a heartbeat he thinks Dick, but then the boy speaks: “Hiya, B.” His voice is Crime Alley rough, with none of the Romani accent Dick had as a child. 

Bruce lets out a long, slow breath. Jason never slept in his bed before...before. He tried once, but he woke up screaming and clawing at Bruce, begging him to get away, get the fuck away, before recognizing Bruce enough to break down sobbing and apologizing, and then avoiding him for the rest of the day. They never tried again.

But Jason’s here now, young and calm and whole and all the things he isn’t anymore. He smiles up at Bruce, and his grin is a perfect reflection of the cocksure smile Jason had given him while standing there with blood on his hands just a few weeks ago, rain glinting against his leather jacket.

“What’s wrong, B?” he asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Bruce swallows hard, forcing his racing thoughts to calm. “This isn’t real,” he says, trying to pitch his voice into a proper growl. But Jason is so warm against him, his little chest rising up and down, and Bruce’s voice breaks off into a trembling warble.

“Oh?” Jason sits up and he--he’s wearing his Robin uniform, smoke curling off his shoulders like dark wings. “Christmas is a time of miracles, isn’t it, B-man? Maybe you just need to expand your mind.”

Bruce coughs, throat aching with the memory of fire. “Jason--” he forces out, fighting the urge to scream or cry. 

His son smiles, a tiny hand reaching to press gently against his cheek. “Bruce.” There’s a bruise spilling down his cheek like a flower, black and purple shimmering before Bruce’s eyes. He smiles and his mouth is full of blood and missing teeth.

“Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.” Each word grows deeper, Jason’s voice sliding down the vocal register as his shoulders broaden before Bruce’s eyes, bones cracking and shifting in a sickening chorus. His forelock lightens to a jarring white and his eyes harden, something cracked and hungry crawling in behind them.

Bruce tries to lunge upright, but Jason’s faster, one knee slamming into Bruce’s stomach and knocking him flat to the bed, the hand on his cheek growing larger and more callused as it shifts to Bruce’s throat. Jason squeezes and Bruce rasps for air, choking on the aftermath of an explosion.

Fight, he tells himself, but Jason’s eyes are twin spots of green ice freezing him stiff. His son’s breath is warm on his face, impossibly alive and tight with the kind of fury Bruce has seen in himself so many times.

“You can’t keep your ghosts out, Bruce baby,” Jason croons, bearing down with his full weight. He’s gotten so big, so strong, pushing down with the weight of a fallen star. There’s black creeping in at the corners of Bruce’s vision and Jason’s features ripple and blur, distorted to monstrous proportions.

“That’s it.” Jason’s forehead rests against his, impossibly tender. “Let it out, let it go. Stop fighting, Bruce, you knew from the start that you weren’t gonna win. We were all dead from the beginning, remember?”

“Jesus Christ,” someone calls from the corner of the room. A girl’s voice, young and agonizingly familiar as Jason’s. “They weren’t kidding when they called you a drama queen, Jay.”

Jason’s fingers relax and he settles back on his knees with a huff, letting Bruce draw in great, desperate lungfuls of air. The smell of smoke still hangs around him, but at least it’s no longer suffering.

“Seriously, Blondie?” Jason calls over his shoulder. “You couldn’t let me have my moment?”

“You had your moment, honeybunch,” Stephanie Brown shoots back, sashaying out of the shadows of Bruce’s bedroom. She’s wearing her Robin costume, but it’s stained with blood in the same patterns Bruce remembers from her Spoiler uniform, the same patterns he had stared at for hour after hour. “You’ve had oodles of moments. Let some of us take a turn.”

Jason crosses his arms over his chest with a pout, his face darkening and features shifting as he shrinks back to his Robin self. “Whatever,” he huffs.

“Attaboy.” Stephanie’s eyes flick back to Bruce--she’s got bruises of her own, pushing out from under her mask. “And you, boss, you’ve gotta get up. We’ve got work to do.”

Bruce blinks at her; he wants to say I’m sorry or forgive me, but the first words to come out of his twisted, aching throat are “What work?”

Stephanie chuckles. “What work, he says.” She leans closer, and he can see that her headband is really a bloody bandage. “What work? Gotham-work, silly. Isn’t that what this was all about?”

Bruce’s eyes flick between the dead girl and the undead boy. “I don’t--”

But Steph’s already turned to scoop Jason up and toss him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ignoring his kicks and cruses. She grabs Bruce’s hand with her free one and yanks, pulling him out of bed with impossible strength. “Come on, boss,” she says, and her smile has wolf-sharp teeth now.

Bruce wants to protest, but he’s already being dragged across the room, stumbling past a tangle of children’s toys and glinting weaponry that definitely wasn’t there before. Steph tugs him out the door and down the hall, past the images of blood-soaked family members smirking at him from behind filthy glass frames. He jerks to a halt before one painting of Thomas and Martha Wayne kneeling in an alley, one on either side of a corpse charged beyond recognition. “What--”

“Come on, boss!” Steph snaps, yanking hard enough that Bruce almost face plants on the carpet. He barely manages to keep his balance as they round a corner and hustle down the stairs, the dining room door swinging open to welcome them with a wash of bright light.

Bruce staggers to a halt, blinking and rubbing his eyes as they try to adjust. Stephanie dumps Jason on the shoulder and he turns back into an adult as his feet rug, glaring down at her.

“You’re so mean,” he whines, exactly the way he used to do as a child. “I had a whole speech planned--”

Someone lets out a contemptuous little tutting noise from down the table. Bruce turns to see a small figure, smaller than either Steph or Jason, sitting at the head. Their features are obscured by a hood, but he can see that they’re wearing a version of the Robin costume--and that there’s blood shining on their chest like a flower.

“Who’s that?” Bruce asks, and he can’t quite blame the strangulation for how small his voice is.

“Him?” Steph says breezily, flopping into a chair. “Oh, he’s not important--” A dining knife comes whizzing through the air and she ducks, letting it slam into the wall behind her head. “I was going to say not yet, gremlin!” she yells, seemingly unbothered by the murder attempt.

The boy in the hood crosses his arms and slumps back in his chair with a huff that feels impossibly familiar. A cat pokes its head up from his lap, giving Bruce an unimpressed look that reminds him, oddly enough, of Alfred.

“Little psycho,” Jason says, plopping down in a chair and putting up his boots up on the table, taking a gun out of his pocket to stop cleaning it. He shoots Bruce a defiant look, like he’s daring him to say something about it, only there’s a bloody mass where his eye used to be.

“Don’t just stand there, boss,” Steph chides, gesturing at a pulled-back chair. “Take a seat! You’re the guest of honor, remember?”

Bruce takes a breath and carefully sits down, feeling the wood creak under him just the way that the old dining chairs used to. He makes himself look from child to child, forcing him to look at each one without flinching.

“This is not real,” he says, calm and steady, like a man in charge (like a mentor, a fa--) “None of this is happening. It’s a--illusion, of some kind.”

“You keep harping on about that,” Jason complains. “Who give a flying fuck if it’s real?” He smiles, and for a second his face is bone-white and twisted, tinged with sickly green. Bruce jolts at the sight before he can help himself, hand flying towards a Batarang that isn’t there.

“Don’t worry, boss,” Steph chides. “You’ve got nothing to fear, honest. There’s more than gravy than grave about us!” She laughs at her own joke, mouth opening wide enough that he can see blood down her throat. “And speaking of gravy, I’m friggin’ starving.”

She claps her hands and Bruce very nearly falls out off his chair, but suddenly his family’s finest dinnerware is laid out in front of them, candles blazing with Christmas cheer. On each plate, he can see...

“Like it?” Steph asks. “We were going to go with geese, but they all froze to death. Turkey’s more Thanksgiving-ish, and besides, Jerry’s off the menu. And lamb was kind of too on the nose, so...” She waves her hands, broken fingers swinging awkwardly. “Ta-dah!”

They’re birds. Neat, plucked, stuffed little birds, all arranged prettily with feathers spread out behind them. Bright red feathers, like spilled blood and rosy cheeks and...

“Mmm,” Steph says, taking a bit of her robin, cheeks bulging like a little chipmunk. “Alfie’s really outdone himself this year.”

Bruce can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t tell if the weight pressing down on his chest is guilt or horror or some twisted cocktail, but it’s heavier than Jason was.

“Rich boy feeling like a picky eater, huh?” Jason says, rough and sardonic. “So goddamn spoiled.” His skin presses tight against his bones, a mirror of the malnourished child who almost killed himself trying to jack Bruce’s tires. “There were days I woulda killed for a spread like this.”

The boy at the end of the table tuts against and lifts a glass to his lips. You’re too young to be drinking, Bruce wants to say, but no, the boy isn’t drinking. He’s spitting into the glass, red blood dribbling out of the darkness beneath his hood.

Steph swallows and says, “You need to eat, boss.” There’s a piece of her cheek missing now, ragged with the memories of teeth. “It’s how you get big and strong enough to keep Gotham safe.!

“I...” Bruce coughs. His ribs feel like they’ve been smashed in and his ears are ringing and the candles are burning far, far too hot. “I can’t eat this.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Come on, Bruce. You liked it perfectly fine the week before and the week before that and the week before that. It didn’t bother you in the slightest to chew us up and feed us to that city of yours, did it?”

His stomach roils and Bruce shakes his head wildly. “I didn’t, I didn’t--”

“Tt,” the hooded boy says, and this one is as sharp and dismissive as a gunshot in the alley.

“Come on, old man,” Jason says. His eyes are white now, glinting like bloody domino lenses. “It’s us. If you can’t be honest with your goddamn ghosts, who can you be honest with?”

I didn't know, Bruce wants to say, but the truth claws its way out of his throat instead: “I’m sorry,” he whispers, a broken, aching rasp. “I’m sorry.”

“We know you are, boss,” Stephanie says, and her eyes are soft and tired, her voice stained like an old woman’s. “But it doesn’t really make it better, y’know?”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce repeats stupidly, helplessly. He wants to get up and run--where? Towards them, away from them, out into the night where the bats will keep him safe or down into the shadows of his cave? It doesn’t matter, because his limbs aren’t working anyway, frozen like rigor mortis.

“You know what’s funny?” Jason asks. “I think I might have kept loving you even if you weren’t. But you are, just not enough.” The candles flicker and crackle like laughing clowns, sneering gangsters, the roar of something unnamable. “And that makes it so much worse.”

The Robin at the end of the table jumps up, high green boots clunking against wood. Now that he’s standing, Bruce can see the sword sprouting from his chest, hilt emerging from his back to open into limp, dripping wings, dark red like an omen. The sight hurts more than it possibly could for a child he’s never seen before.

“I love you,” Bruce whispers, voice shaking. “I loved--I loved all of you, I--”

“Hush,” Stephanie says, voice trailing like a dying sigh. “It’s okay, boss. We’ve got it. We’ve got you. We’ll do whatever you need us to do.”

Robin crosses the table in the space between heartbeats and drops to one knee in front of him, hand shooting out to grab Bruce’s face and squeeze. Bruce gags, mouth forced out, and he can’t fight, can’t move, his training reduced to nothing just like it always is--

“Here comes the airplane,” Stephanie sings in his ear--when did she get behind him, her hair tickling his cheek? And that’s Jason hands resting on his shoulders, holding him down. His boy’s fingers are so large now, but the indexes still tap in time the way Jason’s used to do.

The Robin on the table cuts a slice of meat and holds it up to his face. It smells good, like Mother’s perfume and Father’s cologne and all the things that Bruce lost before he knew how enough to hold them tight. He can see hear the meat sizzling against metal, tines blackening before his eyes.

“No,” Bruce forces out, but it’s garbled, smothered, like a baby bird’s last few cheeps. The kneeling Robin reaches for him and the meat presses against his mouth and it cuts--

“Master Bruce!”

His eyes open and he’s on his back in his father’s study. Alfred’s got him pinned down, kneeling over him with wide eyes, wrestling shards of glass from Bruce’s hands.

Behind Alfred’s head Bruce can see the same window that broke all those nights ago, shattered yet again to let in swirls of freezing air. Bruce’s mouth is stinging and there’s blood dripping from his hands, painting the floor dark and ugly.

“Alfred, let me up,” he grits out. “I’m all right, I’m all right, I promise.”

“You were about to eat glass, sir,” Alfred huffs, eyes a little wild. “Forgive me if I’m a little doubtful--”

“Alfred!”

Alfred lets go and pulls away, shifting back onto his knees with a grunt. “Hold still,” he says, reaching for Bruce’s hands. “I’m going to wrap these up and then we are calling Miss Zatanna.” His tone of voice brooks no argument.

Bruce closes his eyes, too tired to argue. He swears he can still smoke in his mouth, heavy and bitter.

“I fought a witch last week,” he says. A small-time crook, really, but the blast she’d caught him with...he’d been foolish enough to think it had just made his head swim. Perhaps she hadn’t even known the real impact of the spell, but still. He should have called Zatanna (he hasn’t talked to her since she stood with him next to a defunct Lazarus Pit, talking about ghosts).

“Yes, you did,” Alfred replies carefully. “And you...you saw something, didn’t you? What did you see?”

Bruce takes a slow, deep breath, thinking of shadows and blood and feathers and--and that’s it. His mind is a blank, a swirl of ugly flickers and whispers he can’t quite make out.

“Nothing,” he says, and he almost, almost believes it.

#dc #batfamily #christmas horror #bruce wayne #haunting #does it count if they're not really dead but they're still the #dead robins club #robin #batman #damian wayne #stephanie brown #jason todd #amow winter whumperland 2022 #winter whumperland #red hood #I could have really expanded on this but this is a oneshot so whatever #maybe later #blood #dead animals #implied child death #implied child hungry #implied child abuse #gore #unreality #alfred pennyworth #angst

[queenofthequillandink]

Steph's new roommate's little brother was absolutely a meta.

The two of them weren't really trying particularly hard to hide it, but they weren't mentioning it either, so Steph just... followed their lead. Especially because Jazz, while a little neurotic, was a pretty good roommate and new some truly innovative things to make in the microwave with whatever was in their dorm fridge.

But anyway, back to the meta thing. Steph could totally back it up.

Jazz was from the Midwest somewhere, one of the "I" states. (Indiana? Illinois? Iowa? Steph could never keep them straight.) From the way Jazz talked about her parents and the things she said to Danny, Steph could tell that the Fentons still lived there and Danny with them. Yet at least four nights out of seven, without fail, Steph would come home from a long night studying or vigilante-ing to find Danny in their dorm room, usually passed out on the futon. As though Gotham wasn't halfway across the country from Indiana or Illinois or Iowa.

"Our parents are pretty loud," Jazz explained with a quiet grimace, the first time it happened. "Like 'keep you awake at all hours of the night' loud. I told Danny he could sleep here when he needs to, is that okay? Tucker's parents are great, but they'll kick him out eventually."

"As a sleep-deprived college kid, I wholeheartedly support sleeping wherever you can get it," Steph whispered back. "As long as he doesn't eat my half of the food, I'm not gonna tattle to the RA."

"Thank you thank you thank you!" Jazz squealed, flapping her hands. Steph darted a glance at the teenager passed out on their futon, but he didn't even twitch. "Oh, don't worry, you have to be loud enough to wake the dead to get Danny up," Jazz said with a smirk.

"Alright. Makes things easier, I suppose," Steph said with a shrug, moving to sling her backpack onto her bunk. "He gonna be here in the morning?"

Jazz narrowed her eyes as though Elder Sister Glare could penetrate dreams. Hell, maybe it could. "He'll be at school before you wake up, if he knows what's good for him."

School. Which should be halfway across the country. Sure. Well, Steph could recognize a topic that Simply Wasn't Spoken About and unlike the rest of the Bats, she actually respected her roommate's personal privacy. "Cool."

So. Definitely a meta. Teleportation, maybe? Or superspeed or flying, she supposed. Whatever it was, the kid was clearly only using it to get a good night's rest in a safe space, so it wasn't really Steph's business.

At least neither of them had noticed she was a vigilante. It was an impressive secret to keep in such close quarters, if Steph did say so herself.

~*~

Jazz had clocked that Stephanie was Spoiler in a week and a half. And it only took her that long because she was distracted by orientation. The girl wasn't exactly subtle. Especially not with her injuries. Jazz had three years of experience watching someone come home injured and try to hide it, and while she was better than Danny, it still wasn't good enough.

Still, Steph wasn't making a big deal of Danny portalling into their dorm half of every week. And, like she had with Danny, Jazz wanted Steph to trust her enough to tell her herself.

And if this meant that Jazz spent a good portion of her first semester figuring out the rest of the Bats' identities based on Steph's friends and acquaintances, well. That was between her and Steph's scary-but-sweet girlfriend who read her like a book as soon as their eyes met.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #jazz fenton #danny fenton #dc comics #batman #stephanie brown #spoiler #i just think it would be funny for jazz and steph to be roommates #and jazz to know exactly what's happening #and steph to have a pretty good idea #and they just Never Fucking Talk About It #my writing #original

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy)

Chapter 1

The expectant smiles froze on his siblings’ faces.

Jason blinked, still shaking off the disorientation of the green twisting blur that always came when he took his turn with tHe RitUaL. “What?” he said. It came out defensive. Usually they were all laughing by this point.

Dick reached out and took the post-it off his forehead. “We may have misunderstood this sacrificial thing.” He frowned at the note.

Jason tore it away and flipped it around to read it.

“...Please stop the bridal sacrifices,” he read, voice instantly trembling with the need to laugh. Holy shit. “Proposal is kinda forward. But if you really want, I’d totally go on a date with you. Check yes or no. Danny.” There were two smiley faces after the name and a scribbled drawing of a human looking guy with tall hair.

The batcave was in total, mortified silence. The ritual that had become their pre-patrol goof-off activity of choice had maybe… maybe been a mistake?

“I’m kinda hurt,” Dick broke the silence. “I’m marriageable. I’m a catch, even.” He was joking, but Jason was pretty sure that it wasn’t totally baseless. Who would look at Dick and then choose Jason, of all the people?

Stephanie snorted. “It’s probably your reputation as Ritchie Rich,” she soothed. “I’m sure if this… is it the same guy every time?” She blinked, clearly distracted from her original thought. “Have we all been proposing to Danny day after day?” She wondered. She started counting on her fingers.

“Twice last week,” Tim said thoughtfully. “I proposed to him twice last week.” A line formed between his brows. “I should probably tell Bernard, huh?”

“We must communicate with whoever this Danny is,” Damian said immediately. “If this realm possesses both animal life that resembles our fauna and sentient beings capable of the bad judgment necessary to select Todd as a suitor over Richard, we must know more.”

Jason made a face at Damian and flipped him off, but didn’t disagree. “How is this supposed to work?” He waved the post-it. That did imply some modernity, at least. They were communicating with someone who had stationary. “If I was going to check it, would he know what I picked? Or would I have to– should be bride sacrifice a notebook back and forth?”

“A notebook,” Tim said scathingly. “We can do better than that. A communicator, a phone.”

“Who says Danny has signal, dingbat,” Jason shot back. “He’s probably out of the service area.”

Cass took the paper out of his hand and peered at it. “Yes or no,” she asked, cutting off the disagreement before it could get heated.

He didn’t have to think about it. “Yes,” Jason said, mischief in every line of his body. “I gotta see where this is going. We should at least meet the guy.”

“He said you were tempting!” Dick gasped. He grabbed Jason by the arm and clung on. “Remember? The first time? You’re his type!”

Damian made a ‘gross’ face, features scrunched up like an unhappy cat. Stephanie ‘ooooed’ like she was watching a wrestling match. Cass merely looked thoughtful.

Jason shook his annoying brother off and kept him at a distance with a palm on Dick’s forehead.

“Oooh, the void boy has a crush on you,” Stephanie teased. “You’d be such a beautiful bride, Jason.” She didn’t react to Cass reaching into her hip pouch and withdrawing a sparkly purple pen. Jason loftily ignored Stephanie and watched Cass carefully check YES.

The note disappeared. Cass looked at her empty hand. She flicked the pen between her fingers. Her brow scrunched up.

“Shit!” Jason cursed. “Did-”

The group broke out into an explosion of excited sound.

A throat cleared from the stairs. “Kids?”

Batman stood there, wearing wary suspicion and most of his patrol outfit. He was under the impression that they had agreed to stop sacrificing each other to the green void.

“She took my pen,” Stephanie wailed, instantly switching tracks. Cass backflipped away three times and then leapt directly upwards into the rafters, waiving the purple pen tauntingly. Stephanie chased after her.

“What-”

“Jason won’t let me hug him,” Dick tattletailed. He lunged to grab at Jason. Jason dodged on reflex and threw himself into the scuffle.

“I need to call Bernard.” Tim turned and outright left the Batcave. “I’ll be about five minutes late for patrol, B.”

Bruce watched this chaos with bewildered eyes. “...We leave in ten,” he said, and visibly gave up.

…

The date, when it came, was a fuckin surprise to Jason. He was minding his own business compiling a report on everything the Two-Facers had done last week. (There was a surprising amount of bureaucratic process involved in making yourself the judge, jury, and executioner of people who sucked.)

And then there was a violently green hole in his wall. “Huh,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. He pulled the handgun out of his desk drawer and cocked it at the portal. “Not sure I care for that.”

“Thanks, wolf,” came a warbled and nonsensical reply. Jason turned off the safety.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

The portal flashed white and it closed. He was lifting his gun to point at the man now standing in his apartment before he’d actually processed that someone had come through. This guy moved fast.

“This is where you live?” The other man was peering around Jason’s apartment. He seemed politely interested at best, and, Jason felt, much less concerned by the gun than he should have been. “I heard bats before. I thought there would be more bats.” His tone was disappointed. He looked at Jason and then flinched his palms out and up, as if he thought he might have come off rude. “Not that you need bats! Or that I’m disappointed by the lack of bats in your decor. In fact you have wonderful, uh, curtains.” He very obviously named the first thing that he saw. He pretended to be fascinated by them. “The red sure is a choice.”

Jason snorted.

“A great choice! I’m not criticizing your home. It’s great.”

Jason realized that if he didn’t say anything to save him, Danny was going to ramble himself into a verbal corner and slink out of the dimension to escape his obvious embarrassment.

“...You hair looks just like in the picture you drew,” Jason said. He put the safety back on. “Hello, Danny.” The name tasted odd in his mouth. It twas just a little pedestrian for the other man– no, teenager, the other teenager.

Danny looked young. No wonder he’d thrown Dic back like the wrong fish.

Jason felt a little less smug about having been the one chosen. Maybe he was just the most age appropriate candidate, not Danny’s type. Timmers was only two years younger, sure, but he was petite enough that it was a little ambiguous.

Danny turned away from Jason’s window and beamed up at him like that was the greated compliment he could have ever received. “I don’t actually have your name! Which is funny, since you kept manifesting in my house.”

God help him, Danny was cute. Jason reached out a hand. “Jason.”

Danny looked at his outstretched hand and then back to his eyes. He blinked. “Are- oh!” He flushed green and his hand shot out to meet Jason’s in what was very clearly the first handshake of his life.

It was a struggle not to laugh. He didn’t wanna make Danny feel bad so he held it in. There was a helpful distraction in that Danny was fascinating to the touch. It didn’t feel like he was touching a human hand. First off, the hand was about the temperature of butter straight from the fridge. Secondly, somehow the physical contact made Jason taste mint in his mouth.

But really, it just… it didn’t feel like human skin. It was too smooth. There was a raised line from a scar, but the texture was as if all the wrinkles and pores of human skin had been polished off. Like if you held the hand of a marble statue and it was somehow also soft.

Jason pulled his hand away before he could wonder too much if that supernatural smoothness extended elsewhere. Ah. Too late. He flushed a little red, even though the only exposed skin was Danny’s hands and face. “So you’re here to uh, set up a date?” he offered.

Danny blinked at him. “Are you busy now? I was thinking now.”

…He was sort of busy. Jason closed his notebooks, only now concerned that Danny might have seen extremely sensitive information. “Nope,” he lied, attention catching on Danny’s freckles. Something about them was pinging as relevant. Was there a pattern? They weren’t symmetrical or anything. Were they fake?

Danny beamed and - he floated up a few inches in his excitement. Holy hell that was cute. “Great!” he enthused. “Should we go to your place or to mine?”

Uh.

Jason turned violently red. “We are already in my place.” His voice came out tight. He- he hadn’t meant that. That was not a first date activity for him.

It took a few seconds for the penny to drop. “Go out in your city or go to the Ghost Zone!” Danny waved his hands frantically. “I’m not being a creep I swear! I mean, we are kind of spiritually engaged but I’m also engaged to– are those people your friends and family?” He was outright horrified. “Oh my GOD, I’m-”

“I would love to take you out around town, but you’ll stand out,” Jason interrupted. He couldn’t hold back the smile. “We can make it work, though. Thoughts on hats and glowing less?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Danny twitched his hands outward in a motion he probably didn’t even know he was doing. There was another flash of white light that crawled up and down his body.

And Danny one was gone. Danny two stood in Jason’s apartment with dark hair, patched jeans, and a loose t-shirt that hid the musculature his jumpsuit had displayed. He had a full palette switch of his eyes and skin tone as well.

He was obviously the same guy. He just felt more down to earth now.

“Useful,” Jason said, and tugged at his snow-white forelock. “Think you could teach me to change my hair like that?” He was only half joking. It was the bane of his existence when he needed to go undercover. It was too distinctive.

“No, but Doctor Frostbite might be able to sort that out for you,” Danny replied absently.

Jason grimaced instinctively. He knew way too many gimmicky villains to want to do to someone called Doctor Frostbite. “That sounds like the name of a B-tier villain with blue hair.”

Danny paused and clearly contemplated it. “That’s Ember, actually,” which made no branding sense because the word ember evoked warm colors. “Lead the way!” He bounced on his heels, which Jason guessed was his human form equivalent to floating up.

Jason cleared his throat. “I, uh, am gonna want to change.”

For the first time, Danny really looked him up and down and realized that he was wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and black boxers. Jason waited patiently as Danny went through all the stages of grief and social mortification. That didn’t stop Danny’s eyes from followed Jason’s bare arms when he casually lifted one and flexed a little, rubbing at the back of his head. Ha. Eat that, Dick.

“I’m going to go drown myself,” Danny said, now violently pink. Huh, even blushing for a color change. “Can I use your restroom?”

“Stay alive enough to pick between Korean or Mexican,” Jason advised. “I’ll be right back. Should I find you a coat?” He didn’t wait for an answer, frowning at Danny’s bare arms. “I’m gonna find you a coat.” He was already on the way to his bedroom. “It’s freezing out.”

…

#red check yes #jason todd #red hood #dp x dc #dead on main

[lovefrombegonia]

Batfam hc: The reason Bruce doesn't get why Dick wanted to "stay away" from him after he reached his late teens or why Dick didn't wanna be in his shadow... it's coz Bruce just doesn't understand why any child would want to be away from their parents. Why would the child want to be away from his parents' embrace? Why?! He would never want to be away from Thomas and Martha if they were alive. He would always wanna be their little boy. He would always live under their protective, warm and safe shadow. He just doesn't understand. The truth is: He is still their, in crime alley, trying to stop those two bullets. He never truly got out of the crime alley. He probably never would...but that's ok with Bruce. Because he doesn't mind staying in the shadow of his dead parents.

Years later, Dick finally gets how and why Bruce is the way he is. He mourns for his father and protects him the best he can. Dick knows that even though he would never trade what he has with the family he found with Bruce and others surrounding him now...for anything else, including his beloved parents...he knows, that Bruce would chose Thomas and Martha over them in a heartbeat. And it hurts. It hurts him SO BAD. But he will endure this hurt. Because he also knows that Bruce loves him and his brothers and sisters and everyone else consisting of their mess of a family.

Maybe, that's why...when the timeline shenanigans happened, and Bruce was left at the night of tragedy when Martha and Thomas were shot dead in the past, Dick, in the present timeline, was ready...ready to disappear from the present life. And he could see the same fear but silent acceptance in his siblings' eyes too. They held each other tightly. Jason, Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Stephanie, and Duke...all of them, a small part of them were resenting Bruce but their selfless love for him wouldn't let them hate him. After all...how could you hate a lost child. They waited...with Oracle in their comms, her soothing voice telling them again and again how much she loved them all. That, no matter what, she would find a way to remember them all, and bring them back. Dick held Damian close to his chest the tightest. Small and brave Dami, so full of love despite his painful past. Dick wanted to say--

A burst of energy was felt behind him...empty space crackled to life. A portal opened. A man walked out. His cowl and cape soaked in rain.

Bruce broke down. He started crying and then he started laughing. Sorry for letting you down. Sorry for scaring you all. Sorry for letting mommy and papa die. Sorry for loving his present more than his past. He loves his parents. He always would. But he loves his children more. He loves them all. Bruce no longer wanted to stay in his parents' shadow. Now, he just wanted to become a home for his kids. What is a home? A home is a place, when you have nowhere else to go, they have to accept you. And home had no right to abandon those who looked his way for support. He has to be there. He has to be a home. He didn't want to be anything else atp.

Dick held Bruce as tightly as he held Damian. Damian kept say, "Baba, Baba!" while trying to hold back tears. Jason held Bruce's cape tightly, as if he would disappear. He was still in shock. Cassandra cradled Bruce's head in her arms. Stephanie had her arms around Bruce and Jason. Tim was wiping Bruce's tears even though he himself was crying. Duke held Bruce's shoulder. His hand was shaking. He didn't want to lose another father figure. The thought had crossed his mind what his life would be if Batman had disappeared. Would it be better or worse? He decided that he didn't care. In the end, he didn't want to lose Bruce from his life. All of them could hear Barbara's quiet whimpers. Bruce tried to hold all of them in embrace.

A child finally walked out of the crime alley.

#phew...that was LENGTHY for me. #amateur writer here #don't expect quality #only pure and raw emotions #batfamily #batfamily headcanons #headcanon #batdad #batkids #personal headcanon

[clockwayswrites]

Rumors of a Prince

“You could always ask Jason to pay her a visit,” Dick said from where he was lounging, mostly upside down, on the couch in Bruce’s study.

Bruce frowned at him. “I am not going to have Jason kill Vickie Vale.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said kill!” Dick held his hands up or, rather, given his position, down. “I just meant puts some fear into her. Maybe kidnap her for a few days so that she can’t write any more libel.”

Bruce found himself smiling, slightly and against his better judgment. It faded away when he looked back at his laptop. “At least in this case, it wouldn’t do much good. The stories is already out there and, unfortunately, Vale’s take on it has captured the public’s attention.”

“Tim knows I bet… and Babs.”

“Undoubtedly by now.”

“And if those two know, Steph knows. If Steph knows, she’s ranted to Cass.”

“Yes.” This family was impossible to keep things secret in.

“Welp,” Dick said and swung himself to be sitting up normally— or as normally as Dick ever sat. “Then I guess we better tell the others. How do you want to divide this?”

Bruce was grateful that Dick was willing to be his partner in this. “You would be best to take Jason. I’ll speak with Damian. Either of us can catch Duke when he returns from his patrol.”

Dick nodded. “And Tom?”

“I think perhaps it would be best to have as much of the family in the manor as possible,” Bruce said after a moment. “If he destabilizes, I want him to know that we are around and that he is still safe.”

“Alright.” Dick slapped his knees once and stood. “I’ll drag Jason back then. You know he’ll come if it’s for Tom.”

“Make sure he reads the article before he comes over.”

Dick grimaced. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be best. I’m going to bring some food too over with me. Good luck convincing Dami that he can’t go and stab Vickie Vale.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dick chirped as he left for his task.

Bruce dropped his hand.

‘Gotham’s Pale Prince’ stared back at him from the screen.

-

“Seriously?!” Jason burst in through the kitchen door. “Have you read this swill?”

“Yes chum, of course I have,” Bruce said. He shot Dick, who trailing behind Jason’s fury, a look. Dick was supposed to get Jason to read the article before coming over.

Dick just shrugged helplessly and motioned in a way that conveyed Jason had read it and was still clearly quite upset.

“One of the biggest questions is,” Jason said, clearly reading now from the article with the air of Bristol accent he had put on, “perhaps, why the newest Wayne is not in school. Bruce has proven himself to be a champion of the educational system. This is despite the man himself being a college drop out’ like what the fuck?”

“To be fair, I am,” Bruce said.

Jason rolled his eyes and continued. “His oldest ward’— Dick is fucking adopted now, bitch!”

“Boo!” Steph echoed and tossed popcorn at the tablet Jason was holding.

(Bruce was neither sure when Stephanie had arrived nor where she got the popcorn.)

“Never going to college,” Jason said with a jab of his free hand, “and the second oldest never completing high school.’ I was dead you narrow minded shew!”

“Well, I mean, all she knows is that you were supposedly kidnapped by terrorists and tortured for years,” Dick said. He had moved over to help himself to Stephanie’s popcorn and paused raising the next handful to his face. “Okay, no, that’s actually worse.”

“And you are clear on your line that I cannot stab this woman for the dishonor she implies about the family?” Damian asked, again, as he joined them in the kitchen.

“Unfortunately we have to handle this the proper way, with a press conference,” Bruce said. Stabbing was looking increasingly appealing though.

Jason dropped into one of the open chairs. “I’d call it a battle of the wits, but I don’t think Vale has any left with this trash she’s writing!”

“Alright,” Tim said as he entered the kitchen with almost as much fury as Jason, just more contained. Cass followed in his wake. “I am sure that B has already run through no killing, no stabbing, no maiming, no poisoning—”

“No poisoning Vickie Vale,” Bruce said, feeling so tired.

“Way to go, Timbit, now we can’t poison her,” Jason groused.

Tim sighed, “Fair, I shouldn’t have assumed. I really thought someone else would have brought it up already.”

“People went for more bloody options,” Dick explained.

“Also fair,” Tim said, pointing at him. “Anyways, since we can’t do all that, can I ruin her reputation?”

“Tim,” Bruce sighed.

“Now come on old man, let’s here Timtam out,” Jason said, holding out his arm. “You said yourself we had to handle the proper way and I’m sure that our little socialite here knows just how to ruin her through something like a press conference.”

“You I can stab,” Tim said with a shark sharp smile towards Jason.

Jason returned it with a smile like broken glass. “You can try.”

“Oh, if you keep calling me a socialite I will try and I will manage.”

“Boys, please.”

“Are people threatening blood and violence again?”

Every head in the room swiveled towards the door to the hall.

Tom almost recoiled at the sudden attention of all of the family, taking a half step back and looking a little wide eyed.

Cass walked forward and wrapped her arm around Tom’s. “Tim is. To Jason.”

It took a moment for Tom to tear his eyes away from the family to look at his sister. “Of course. What’s… it about this time?”

“Jason is reminding Tim that he’s a rich society brat and Tim hates to be reminded about that even though it’s true because Tim is also a little freak and the upper crust would be applaud if they knew even a fraction of it,” Steph said before she stuffed his mouth full of more popcorn.

Everyone in the room paused for a moment.

“No, yep, I think that’s pretty much spot on,” Dick said. He wasn’t even pretending not to laugh.

The laughter was infectious and almost everyone was either snickering or outright laughing. Bruce even quirked up a little smile. Tom still looked mostly confused but at least less nervous.

“Come sit by me, little shadow,” Dick said with a smile.

When Thomas settled next to Dick, who immediately wrapped an arm around him, the room settled again into that slightly somber mood.

“What is going on?” Tom asked, voice small. There were times when he still seemed unsure if he could be a presence in a room or consternation. It was something that they were still working on as a family.

Bruce sighed. “A reporter found out about you and wrote an article with mostly speculation. Unfortunately, because of who I am in the city and my existing tendency to adopt, it’s getting attention.”

Tom chewed on his lip and Bruce just hoped he wouldn’t worry it so much it bled. “Bad?”

“Not bad towards you, but unkind. She made a lot of guesses and fact reasons about why the public hasn’t seen you,” Bruce explained.

“Oh. Am I…?”

The dropping of words wasn’t the best sign. Dick pulled Tom into his lap.

“No. Most of the children didn’t attend the press conference announcing them and you don’t have to either. But I will need to make one simply to clear up some of rumors. I wont say anything that you don’t want me to say.”

“Bruce and I can plan it out,” Tim said, “and then run it by you if you want to look over it.”

“Can… will… if anyone wants to help…”

“Of course!” Dick said cheerfully. “We can make a lunch of it or something. It will be the best press conference yet.”

“Yeah. And you don’t even have to watch it,” Jason said. “We’ll plan something fun for that day. The old man can go and do the hard work and we’ll enjoy ourselves.”

“Thank you, Jason,” Bruce said dryly, pretending he wasn’t warmed still whenever Jason refereed to him as anything approaching father.

“It’s what you deserve,” Jason said and tossed his tablet, cleared of the article, on the table. “Come on, let’s plan what we’re going to do.”

“The zoo is always enjoyable,” Damian said.

“You always say zoo,” Cass pointed out as she perched next to Jason.

“What about the park?” Steph suggested. She joined the others at the table and passed around her popcorn.

“Nah, Ivy has a new variety of tulips. I’m worried some of them might turn man eating again,” Dick said.

“We could head out of Gotham I guess,” Jason pointed out and pulled up the map.

Bruce slipped quietly out of the room with Tim on his heels.

“You can stay with them and help them plan,” Bruce offered. Tim was always too grownup, had been since before he came to Bruce.

Tim just shook his head. “I’m never the best distraction. I’ll be more use to you. Besides, I have some plans to run by you that doesn’t need the blood thirsty contingency hearing about.”

“Of course you do,” Bruce said with both a sigh and a smile.

“Nothing physical,” Tim defended himself. “I can ruin her legally.”

“That I have no doubt of.”

No matter what, Bruce had absolutely no doubt that the family would be there for Tom. They were a family, after all.

---

AN: Vickie Vale won't know what hit her. Esp after what she wrote.

Don't know if this will become a full sequel or not, but it was fun to revisit this universe and see how they've progressed!

#dp x dc #shadow of a bat #rumors of a prince #batpham #phanTOM is Danny #and now Thomas Wayne

[battymommastuff]

The Loop [Caution: Sharp Objects]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: It was all a nightmare...simply a nightmare right? Right?

TW: DARK THEMES, NEEDLES AND DEATH

Masterlist Part 1

(GIF not mine)

You uncomfortably made breakfast as Cassandra stared holes into your head. Every Time you moved too quickly, she would flinch then reach out for you. As if she were trying to protect you from something. While you enjoyed spending time with the people you considered your children, this was making you weary.

You were still trying to figure out what happened earlier that morning. Never in your life were you greeted like that. Every single face that you saw had the same look of pure horror on it. It was like you had died right in front of them or something.

"She's just cooking...cooking breakfast." Barbara said as she watched you from the security cameras in the kitchen. Well it wasn't just her watching. "Every movement, and order she's cooking in was exactly the same." Barbara leaned closer to the camera, she wasn't going to miss any details. Anything that you do differently, she will document.

"A hallucigen?" Tim suggested grimacing when he felt the needle push into his vein. Alfred hummed in thought as he collected another blood sample to test, "We were all at the fight with the League, it's possible they used some invisible drug. Maybe us waking up was the drug leaving our system?" Tim asked as Alfred pulled the needle from his arm. After getting it bandaged, he stood up so Duke could get his blood tested next.

"That is likely, we should have done urine samples instead." Bruce mumbled as he analyzed their blood for any signs of drugs or anything that didn't belong.

"Bruce, all the blood is coming up clean. If we were drugged, I doubt something that strong would wash out that quickly. I mean come on, we were all there. We felt her dead body, I felt her blood soak into my pants. There was no way it was fake. It was too real." Dick snapped and ran his hand through his hair, "I felt her body get cold. How is any of this even happening?" He asked then walked away while weaving his fingers through his hair. Stephanie followed after him to try and console him.

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Okay, you were a little offended. You've just finished your famous breakfast, and no one is anywhere to be seen. Well except Cass, who was still watching you while she ate. After a few minutes of the silence, you stood up and stormed to the batcave.

The team was hard at work trying to figure out what happened when you made your way into the dark and gloomy place. "I made a delicious breakfast, and no one has come up to enjoy it. What possibly is so important that you couldn't wait?" You asked while crossing you arms.

They nearly jumped out of their skin when they heard your voice. They were so focused on finding a solution, that they didn't hear you coming down the steps.

Your eyes drifted from your family to the giant computer screen where you saw the results of their drug tests, "What is going on?" You asked then grabbing the nearest person who happened to be Damian. You turned his arm around to see the gauze and bandage wrapped around his arm.

"After the fight with the League, we wanted to make sure we were under the effects of anything dangerous. A simple precaution." Bruce said quickly as he made his way over to you. He rested his hands on your waist, but you noticed the slight hesitation as he did. "Now, let's go eat your breakfast." He said then started leading you out of the batcave, which only led you to ask more questions.

The surprise party was quickly canceled. Even if it was a dream, they didn't want to relive an ounce of those memories. Instead, they opted to take you shopping to your favorite places. Each store, they took turns buying you whatever you wanted. To you, it looked like a simple family outing, but to others, it looked like you were walking around with bodyguards.

Damian even went as far as threatening someone who glanced at you for too long.

After several stores, it was time to get a snack. Everyone managed to cram themselves into the outside patio of an ice cream shop. Bruce felt at ease being that they were in the safer part of the city. You ate your ice cream while chatting away happily. Everyone began to relax, and finally started to feel as if this was just a bad dream.

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Now fully relaxed, your family abandoned the protection formation. You were pushing Barbara and chatting with Jason casually. Though you didn't miss the sketchy person that had been following you. Your constant glances behind you didn't go unnoticed by Jason who alerted the rest of the family.

As soon as the stalker realized he'd been discovered, he lunged for you. Jason quickly intervened, but this man was clearly skilled. It wasn't long before your entire family was fighting to subdue this man. They had to do so as best they could without raising any suspicion as to who their alter egos were. After their success, they proceeded to question him. He could be linked to their dream...if it was real.

Though they would never think that this man could have a partner. He did. You let out a strangled scream when someone grabbed you from behind and a knife was plunged into your chest. The knife left your body, only to be plunged in again and again. Both men ran in opposite directions after the deed was done. This time, Damian was the one who caught you instead of your body hitting the ground.

The young boy watched as you coughed up your blood, and looked at you bleeding body in shock. You then looked up at Damian and your eyes went cold. "Ummi?" He called out while pressing his small hands against your wounds, as if that would help. How could this have happened? What the hell was going on?

Like the night at the party, everyone stood in shock. It was up to one of the Gotham citizens to call the police.

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Police cars, and news vans crowded the area as the family found themselves reliving the horrible night over again. Though no one was holding your body this time. A bloody white sheet covered it. Jason was currently handcuffed and in the back of a police car after he took his anger out on another one.

Gordon knelt by his daughter's side in an attempt to get her to speak, but she was quiet. All eyes were on your corpse once again. What did they do wrong? Was someone out to kill you? First a bullet through the head, then being stabbed in the middle of the street? It didn't make sense.

Dick sat on the ground with his head in his hands when he felt the urge to look up. Across the street where the massive crowd was, he saw a dark figure standing there. It seemed like no one could see it, but him, "Guys?" He called out as he stood up. Everyone looked at him, then followed his pointed finger. Like Dick, they saw the same dark figure.

They watched as it cocked its head to the side then held up an all too familiar music box. Slowly, it opened and the crank started to spin. Bruce started running across the street to try and stop this figure, but his body collapsed to the ground. Gordon caught his daughter when she fell into his arms. She was fast asleep.

Dick held himself up against the wall while trying to memorize every detail of this figure. Whatever it was, he was going to stop it.

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Damian woke up with cold sweat on his body. He wasted no time in getting out of bed to get to his parent's bedroom. He was wearing the same pj's as last time. He threw the door open, and saw that Bruce had just woken up.

Ignoring his father, he went right to the bathroom where you were rubbing some lotion onto your hands. "Damian, what's-" You were cut off when Damian collided with you. His arms were nearly crushing you, "Ummi." He whimpered out like he did when he was having a nightmare. You rested one hand on his head, and the other was on his back.

"It's alright little bird, I'm right here. Everything is okay."

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TAGLIST

@justafanficsreader @seaweed-orchid @O-n-1-x @jared-oranges

@cumbermovels

#batman #batmom #batmom imagines #damian wayne x reader #dc comics #dick grayson x batmom #jason todd x batmom #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #batfam x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #red hood #robin #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #batman x reader #batfamily #nightwing

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

Batfam as things my friends and I have said

Tim, at a toy store: Don't get close to me with that affectionate shit. *spots toy trucks* Look, trucks :D

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

Cassandra: Maybe that's why my life's so peaceful. Because I don't like men

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Tim: I'm bisexual. I don't like choosing

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Damian: They're holding hands. I hope they die

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Stephanie: If I had a penis....

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Stephanie: The other day Duke learnt about periods. He was devastated.

Duke, fake crying: Shit ain't right

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Tim: Can I just kill myself, guys? Dick: Not yet, Timmy

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Jason: I don't wanna smell it, Dick

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Jason: Stephanie, I wanna drink

Stephanie + Jason simultaneously: Drink alcohol. yeah.

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Duke: I'm doing it correctly but my answers still not coming up

Damian: Then you're not doing it correctly

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Dick, pointing at pads: How strong is your pussy?

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Jason: Am I scared or am I hard?

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Cassandra: Why did you look at me with that tone???

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Bruce: The omegaverse? That was in the spiderman movie, right?

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Stephanie: Why must we decide? Tim: The bible says Adam and Eve, not Adam or Eve

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Damian: I'm not exotic, I'm just brown

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Stephanie: Are penises heavy?

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Duke: I'm just...

Stephanie: Ken

Tim: a girl

Duke: dead.

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Dick: Now that we're alone let's get into the real stuff. What's your childhood trauma, babygirl?

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

Dick: Look at those gay flags

Jason: Those are countries

#been wanting to do this for a while #i thought it would be funny #my friends and i have a quote book #that's where these are from #yes we've actually said these things #we're a little stupid #batfam #batfamily #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #duke thomas #stephanie brown #damian wayne #bruce wayne #incorrect quotes #batfam incorrect quotes #batfamily incorrect quotes #batman

[apocalypse-shuffle]

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.

With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.

And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.

Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.

Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.

At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.

Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?

“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”

Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.

“Fine.”

You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.

Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.

You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.

“Take this shit off.”

He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.

Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.

Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”

He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.

“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”

Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.

It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.

The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.

It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.

The sob you let out makes you both flinch.

One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”

Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”

His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.

“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.

Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.

“We can…try again?”

The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.

When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.

When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.

When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.

Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.

To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.

“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”

To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.

You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.

“Please?”

You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.

No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.

“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”

You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.

From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.

One blink. Six.

“You remember Rena?”

In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”

Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.

“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”

“We figured.”

You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.

“I’m not that same boy anymore.”

You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.

“I can tell.”

Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.

“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”

That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.

“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”

Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.

Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.

Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.

Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.

The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.

At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.

You’re rushing forward before you know.

Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.

Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.

Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.

There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.

He’s hugging you back.

You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.

“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”

Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.

It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.

“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.

“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”

“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”

You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.

Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.

You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.

From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.

Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.

The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.

It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.

“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”

Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.

“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”

What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.

“You can’t mean that.”

“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”

Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.

“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”

And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.

Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.

• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

#jason todd #red hood #black!reader #black y/n #black!batmom #•long overdue (the series) #batmom & jason todd #jason todd x batmom #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd angst #batfamily x black!batmom #batmom x jason todd #batfamily x batmom #bruce wayne x batmom #divorced!batmom #batmom angst #batmom #batmom!reader #batfamily x black!reader #bruce wayne x black!batmom!reader #bruce wayne x black!reader #x black reader #jason todd x black!reader #jason todd fanfiction #batfamily fic #batfamily angst

[rubydubydoo122]

What would be things the batkids would have grievances with Alfred over? It's always about Bruce but the world doesn't revolve around him only, so let's look at another guardian/grandfatherly figure.

I feel like they all would be upset with Alfred for letting Bruce get away with most of the shit he does to them. Like how Alfred's supposed to be the one holding Bruce accountable, but he doesn't. And here's the list from least angry at Alfred to most angry at Alfred

Damian. I don't think Damian realizes how much of Bruce's behavior stems from Alfred being a pushover, and he worships both of them too much to actually see it.

Dick. In those early days, Alfred was the one there for him in a house that was too big, too still, and too empty. He probably started getting angry at Alfred during his early 20s, but then it was just Dick, Damian, and Alfred, and Dick kind of became Bruce, so he had times where he resented him, but he "grew out" of it

Jason. And I think he's only the tiniest bit behind Dick because he's almost pretty much in the same boat. Alfred was the only person there in a house that was too big, and when everything was too much, and compared to this Billionaire, Alfred seemed human to Jason. He probably took comfort in Alfred before he took comfort in Bruce. And then Alfred was the one who suggested Jason should quit Robin. And, maybe for a hot second there, (and I mean, a singular passing thought then never again) he blamed Alfred for his death, but Jason also has a plethora of parental issues, so he wouldn't blame Alfred. And this is assuming Jason is completely unaware of the way Alfred low key Shat on Jason's grave so that Bruce would feel less guilty, or whatever.

Then there's Cass. She's just way too good at reading people to not see the way Alfred's pushover tendencies are effecting the 'family' negatively. She wants to yell at Alfred to "Put his foot down." But she knows he won't, so she doesn't. And In a sense, she might just be the same as Alfred.

Then there's a gap, and Duke. He didn't really know Alfred for that long, if you really think about it. Maybe a year, tops? And the reason he's smack dab in the middle is because sometimes, Bruce will do something and Duke will be like "That... is kinda messed up. Who raised you?" and then he'll take it back bc he'll realize he's speaking ill of the dead.

Tim. I hate woobifying him, but Idk, Alfred was the one who gave Tim Robin. Alfred was the one who gave Damian Robin, and I feel like, Tim, Looking back would think "What the actual fuck. What I was doing as a teenager should've been Alfred's job as Bruce's Guardian" Maybe not currently, but after some time. Maybe when he's in his 20s or has his own kids or something.

Stephanie Brown. She's the Family Friend. She has a slightly outside perspective to all of this, and she's great at puzzles. She Died for Bruce's cause and that didn't stop ANYTHING. She's constantly listening to when any of the batclan members are ranting about Bruce, and his poor coping skills and realizes that it's all just a fucking cycle and it started from Alfred. Alfred was confused on the line of professional and parent and Parented Bruce by being a Butler. Which wasn't what Bruce needed at an 8/9/10 year old who just lost his parents. And that's why Bruce doesn't know how to Parent any of his children without making them some form of a hero. Because Bruce grew up with a boundary of professionalism separating him from any real parenting, and he needs that boundary while parenting his kids. Obviously Bruce has his moments, but those are probably from when he had REAL parents.

Steph tried explaining it to Duke once, and he understood PERFECTLY, but then Duke said not to repeat this to anyone else because they worship the ground Alfred walks on.

#batman #batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #duke thomas #bruce wayne #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain

[phantom-dc]

A deal with the Ghost King

First previous next AO3

Duke wasn't sure what was going on. He was about to head back home when he got an message from Dick, calling him to the theathre district. It didn't sound serious, but when Duke found almost the entire family on the roof he grew concerned. 'Hey guys, I'm here. What's going on?' Damian scoffed. 'Dick is being foolish. This is a complete waste of time.' 'Says the one that's been hogging the binoculers, gimme those!' Tim grabbed for the binoculers, making Damian fight for them. Duke was a bit confused. 'Do you guys want to tell me what's going on, or can I head home? Some of us sleep at night, you know.' Cass appeared behind him, startling him: 'Jason's dating.' 'Wait, really? Who?' Duke joined Dick and Stephanie by the roof's edge, hoping to catch a glimpse. He might not talk much with Jason, but he was still curious who would try and date Mr. Dufflebag. Some type of femme fatale maybe? Or maybe someone who was strong? He couldn't imagine someone waltzing up and just asking Jason out. He was very suprised when Jason left the theatre with some twinkish guy.

'So, what did you think? The main actrice really put her everything into her peformance!' Jason had taken Phantom to the theatre after lunch to see a play. 'I loved it! I never liked the book, but this was much better!' Danny had a good time, he had been pleasantly suprised. Jason was suprised. 'Wait, you don't like the book? You could've told me, so we could have gone to a different one.' Danny waved him off. 'It's fine, I didn't want to be rude. Last time I dragged you al across the Astronomy museum, remember? You didn't whine either. Besides, I liked it! Guess reading the book for a grade wasn't helping me enjoy it.' Jadon groaned. 'Reading for a grade. Nothing kills love for books faster!' Danny laughed, admitting one of his rogues was more likely to blame. 'Remind me to tell you about Ghostwriter, now THAT kills love for books!' Jason smiled, and kissed Danny. Suddenly he noticed something above them. It almost looked like... 'Is something wrong?' Danny noticed Jason grew alert. 'Nah, It's nothing. I just noticed the sun had gone down. I... wanted to watch the sunset with you.' Danny smiled at Jason. 'Just like in the play, huh? Never thought the Red Hood was such a romantic!' Jsson grew a bit embarrassed. 'I have an idea!' Danny grabs Jason's hand and pulls him into an alley.

Dick was confused. How could they have lost them! This alley was a dead end, and the whole family (minus Bruce) was here! Damian was pouting. 'If I had been in charge of this operation we wouldn't have lost them!' Duke didn't know how Jason had done this. One second they were here, and gone the next. Even his vision couln't expkain it. Tim, Cass and Stephanie were searching for secret escape routes. It wasn't like they had flown away!

Meanwhile, high above them Danny and Jason flew invisibly, enjoying their own second sunset.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #danny fenton #jason todd #red hood #dp x dc prompt #ghost king danny #dead on main

[magnoliasandarson]

hoax

Tim was doing his absolute damnedest to project calmness, but he was losing his mind. Two feet away, munching on some cheesy fries, was the Red Hood—the prodigal son, the dead golden boy, his childhood hero, his Robin. The insane man who once beat him half to death, now the guy who occasionally dropped by the cave with a frankly worrying number of bullet holes. 

He’d been patrolling for an hour or so when he noticed the lack of gunshots, screams, explosions, etc., and tracked Hood to the gargoyle Dick took him to once when he was feeling sentimental. It was strange finding him without his signature explosive bucket on, with a bag of Batburger in his lap.

Tim didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to say something. Jason apologized for his actions weeks ago and explained that the pit had taken no dead Robins and turned it into all Robins must die, but there was still a weight between them. A clear line that said do not cross; luckily enough, Tim lived to cross those lines, “Takin’ a day off from murder and mayhem?”

Jason twisted his head to look over, his scowl somehow threatening, even with a fry hanging out of his mouth. He finished chewing, looking menacing the whole time, “Fucks it to ya, bird boy?”

Tim plopped down on the ledge; if Jason was going to shoot him, he would’ve already. He stared out at Gotham, at the empty streets and windows glowing with warmth and light. For once, the city was quiet, “Just making conversation, Hood.”

“What made you think I wanted to talk?” Jason’s tone was harsh, but it was about a five on the Jason-rage-meter, and Tim didn’t get fidgety till a seven. 

Tim kicked his feet out, idly drumming his fingers on the cement ledge, “Maybe I wanted to talk.” And in a weird way, it was true. This was Jason freakin’ Todd; the boy wonder that made Batman laugh. He oddly wanted to know everything. 

Jason sighed like he was accosted by young, costumed teens all the time, and, to be fair, he was. Stephanie had taken to showing up at his apartment at odd hours with waffles, and she had only been shot at twice, “Fine, traffic light. Whatcha wanna talk about.”

“Y’know, you wore the suit, too. ‘Least mine has pants.” Tim spoke, then immediately hunched away. Robin was a sore spot for Jason- Tim was stupid to bring it up. 

For some reason, Jason didn’t immediately pull a gun; he just cocked his head and laughed quietly. Tim straightened back up and tried to muster up a glare, but that just made Jason’s little laughs louder, “Ooh- baby bird’s got jokes,” he rolled his shoulders and offered a thing of fries from the bag, “want some fries, Tiny?”

Tim groaned; why did everyone make short jokes about him? He snatched the fries sharply in protest, “You were short too-”

“Yeah, then I took a dip in poison snot,” Jason cut him off, “Ya wanna do that too, short stack?”

Tim immediately jammed some fries in his mouth- he was incurably dumb. He’d managed to bring up Robin and the Lazarus Pit with Jason. He should hang up the cape, “You got any advice? As a former short king?” Honestly, he wished Jason would just shoot him now. There was something wrong with his brain on a fundamental level. He’d been hanging out with Bart and Kon way too much.

Jason tilted his head like he was buffering and inhaled deeply through his nose like he was trying to calm himself through sheer force of will, “Whatcha wanna know?”

Tim chewed his mouthful of potato slowly; he hadn’t thought this far ahead. What did he want to know from Jason? He could ask about crime-lording, but Jason would probably snitch to Dick, and then Bruce would lecture him for at least an hour. Oddly enough, there was only one safe topic he could ask about, and it would still likely result in him leaving with lead in his body that was not there before, “You got any, uhm, Robin-ly advice?” Lightning should strike him down.

Jason didn’t kill him, which was a plus; just lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, which was objectively hilarious, but Tim would die if he laughed, so he just ate another fry, “Robin was a different kid,” he blew out smoke rings like the cool guys in movies, and if Tim wasn’t acutely afraid of lung cancer, he’d be tempted to try, “Dickwing use’ta say, “Robin is magic, you have to be brave for the magic to work.” I used to believe that shit.”

“You don’t anymore?”

Another cool ring of cigarette smoke floated out through the sky, “I stopped believin’ when I dug my way outta my grave.”

Noted. Tim cleared his throat; this was not a conversation he was equipped for, “Oh.”

Jason snorted, “Yeah- oh,” he took another deep drag of his cigarette, making Tim’s chest twinge, “The thing is- Robin will make you believe you can be- make you think you can be a better person.”

“Then why aren’t you better?” The words left his mouth without Tim’s consent, and his whole body tensed to jump, his fingers finding his grapple gun at his waist. 

Jason gave a wry smile and stubbed his spent cigarette on the gargoyle to his right, “Because Robin isn’t magic.”

#dc universe #dc comics #tim drake #timothy drake #timothy drake wayne #robin #dc robin #batman #jason todd #red hood #dc red hood #nightwing #dick grayson #stephanie brown #spoiler #gotham #bruce wayne #batfam #robin is magic #but that didnt save jason

[igotanidea]

Cinnamon: werewolf!Jason Todd x reader

Request: Yes, by anon ;)

Happy birthday to the one and only Jay Todd!

***

“Out of everyone, it has to be him, why!?”

“Are you jealous, Grayson?” Damian raise an eyebrow at his older brother. Much to everyone’s surprise, the blood soon spend last half an hour listening to Dick ranting and complaining about how unfair it was that out of the entire batfamily it was Jason who get the ability to turn into a wolf. And to make the situation even worse, he was an alpha.

“Jealous?! No! Of course not! Definitely not! Maybe a little…..?”

“If anything he envies Jason that little beta girl, he’s been seeing…….” Stephanie chimes in, chuckling at Dick’shock.

“A…. a beta? So what, he’s got a girlfriend now? Why don’t I know it?!”

“Are you three having fun gossiping about my life?!” Jason leans on the doorframe clearly annoyed at his siblings talking and discussing his private matters.

“Plenty.” Damian smirks vindictively

“You have a girlfriend?!” Dick looks at Jason with the biggest doe eye possible, trying his best to get any information out.

“Screw you Dickhead…..”

“Come on, Jaybird, don’t be like that!”

“I’m not telling you shit!”

“Pleeeeaaasseeeeee…….” Dick grabs his little brother, clinging to him, dead set on not letting go before retrieving as little as the scraps “You never tell me anything anymore….”

“Yeah… wonder why is that…..” Stephane mutters sipping on her slushie

“You’re insufferable, Grayson……”

“I’m just your wonderful, caring, older brother……”

“Nosy, intrusive, controlling, gossiping…..” J

“Hey! That is….. a bit true…..” Dick pouts “but still caring!!”

“I’m done with you. I’m going out…..” Jace mutters turning towards the door

“Can I watch you turn?!” Damian yells after him, his love for the animals taking over as the youngest Wayne rushes after Jason, hoping to see him transform into that beautiful, majestic wolf. “Todd!!”

However, what comes in package with being a werewolf is speed and even Damian with Robin skills could not compare with the rate of transformation. When Damian reached the door, Jason was already gone, the only trail of him being the imprint of foot on the path leading to the manor.

“Damn…..”

***

Jason refused to answer any of Dick’s question not because of how intrusive they were, but because he was afraid to be forced to put a tag on what he had with Y/N.

She was… something.

And he felt something for her.

Even if he wasn’t sure what it was.  

It was not normal for an alpha to get connected to beta. The rule was simple as it was. Alpha paired with omega. ALWAYS. So Y/N was an anomaly. On every possible field.

And now his wolf instinct made him run to her. Her scent were calling him.

Cinnamon.

She always smelled like cinnamon.

Maybe it was because of her human profession, since she was a baker and her show-off dish was cinnamon rolls and apple pie. Or maybe not. Honestly he wasn’t sure of anything, but the animal in him felt that smell and craved her.

So he run. As fast as his furry body and four strong legs allowed him.

He needed her.

And he could feel something was wrong.

He found her in the forest next to her house, her white fur shining in the light, as she laid her head on the paws looking …. sad. Like a beaten dog.

But the second she sensed him, she put the head up, looking his direction tilting it at him in the same gesture she did in her human form. And it made him feel again, wanting to do something, anything to cheer her up somehow.

Maybe he could try chasing her around? That was something that would make him feel better, surely, but Y/N was a lady in every meaning of the word. As surprising as that sounded, she hated getting dirty, avoided getting dirty, always cleaned her fur after stepping into the mud. Like a royalty. Which was even more shocking considering the fact, that as a baker she had flour everywhere on her face and clothes and hair. Maybe that was why her fur was white.

“Hey, Jace….” She called to him telepathically

“You good, Y/N?”

“just tired. Busy day at the bakery. Needed to get out of the human form and just feel instead of think.”

“Explains why you’re in the forest.”

“You look like you needed escape too.”

“Oldest brother getting intrusive.”

“Oh, yeah, family troubles….” If she was a human he would chuckle at that moment.

“Speaking from experience?”

“Maybe…..”

“Wanna run?”

“No.”

“All right…..” he walks towards her and nudge her nose with his playfully, nuzzling his head into his, hoping whatever it is on her mind will subside when he make her feel.

“Jace….?”

“I know….” he plops on the ground, paws in front of him waving his tail a sign for her to lay next to him. He knows. He knows exactly what she needs. He can feel it. And he lets her. No matter how out-of –character it may seem for him. He signed up for this. He signed up for her. And to be completely honest (not that he would admit it to Grayson, of course) he likes those silent moment with her. Only them in their wolf forms, out of the civilisation, out in the open, feeling, hearing, sensing. It’s nice and peaceful and quiet and he feels like he can be himself when she’s next to him, so close.  And it was enough. It was perfect.

***

Couple hours later, still in his werewolf form he walked her back home, not that she needed escort, but he wanted to do this. Or maybe he didn’t want to part with her.

Acting like a gentleman he turned around when Y/N turned back into human, grabbing a shirt from behind the door to cover herself. She had a twig in her messy hair, her eyes were big and shiny and her heartbeat was significantly faster than it should. Side effects of transmutation.

He should go.

He really should go.

But the way she kept standing on the threshold looking at him made him stay, unable to make a single move.

They both felt the connection.

Wolf and human.

Human and wolf.

Two wolfs. Two humans.

“Jason…..?” she trailed, taking a step forward, reaching for his fur and stroking it gently, causing him to lean into his touch. Neither of them seemed to care that the neighbours might be surprised to see a giant wolf in front of the house in the suburbs.

He knew it was not easy for her to show herself to him in her human form. It could only mean one thing. She needed him to take care of her. She needed to feel his warm, big, strong, animal body next to her. His warmth, his presence, his soft, silky pelage.

“Stay?” she whispered. “I really need some company tonight. And I had the door rebuilt to make sure you fit in inside. Please?” she looks into his eyes and it’s like as if she was reaching straight to his soul.

He can’t leave her.

Even if his sibling would tease him in the morning about not coming home for the night.

He can’t leave her.

He’s more than happy to lay on the floor in her leaving room having her arms wrapped tightly around him, making her feel safe and taken care of. Serving as her pillow.

Feeling her.

Feeling the cinnamon smell.

#jason todd x reader #werewolf!jason #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd au #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff

[joker-dc-rp]

Joker rates the Batfamily

Let's see how our bat brats stack up, shall we?

Bruce Wayne/Batman: My beloved Brucie bat! He's truly my soulmate, no notes needed. One day I will kill him and defile his corpse. 10/10.

Dick Grayson/Nightwing: Ah, yes, the original Boy Blunder. He was annoying then and he's annoying now. Sometimes I can still hear the patter of pixie boots...followed by machine gun fire. Hehehehe! 6/10.

Barbara Gordon/Batgirl: Barbara, Barbara, Barbara. We had such lovely, intimate times together. Definitely one of my best moments on camera...maybe not hers, though. Haha. 7/10.

Jason Todd/Red Hood: Ohh, this one is my favorite. Not only was his death a highlight of my career, he even came back from the dead just to torment ol Batsy even more! Ha! It kills me! Or him. Same thing. 9/10.

Tim Drake/Red Robin: Ugh, this kid. He's a smart one, I'll give him that, but he's no fun at all. I call upon all fanfic writers to give him more trauma immediately. 3/10.

Stephanie Brown/Spoiler: Interestingly, I don't know this one so well. I suppose she's smart enough to stay away from me. Though with a father like that, I'd wanna lie low too. 2/10.

Cassandra Cain/Orphan: This one gets on my nerves! Not only does she pack one helluva punch, but she doesn't find any of my jokes funny! Of all the insufferable little--!! -100/10.

Damian Wayne/Robin: This kid has absolutely no sense of humor, none of the charm of his predecessors. I guess he got the sour face from his grandpa. The swords are a nice touch, however. 4/10.

Duke Thomas/Signal: Ah, yes, the new kid on the batblock. This one should be interesting, considering what I did to his parents. Lots of potential here, but for now he's just an overdressed flashlight. 5/10.

#batman roleplay #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #barbara gordon #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #damian wayne #duke thomas #dc joker #joker roleplay

[rainbow-nerdss]

Routine

Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 6: Domestic Buddie, 1.3k AO3 link

"Hey, could you grab an apple for his lunch?" Eddie asked, before shoving a slice of toast in his mouth. He caught the apple Buck tossed his way without hesitation, adding it to Chris's lunch box.

"Chris, you've got five minutes!" Buck called in the general direction of Chris's room.

"Five? I thought we had at least ten?" Eddie looked at his watch, frantic.

"We do, but if I tell him he has five, he'll be ready in eight." Buck shrugs, taking a bite out of another apple.

"Well played," Eddie narrows his eyes, suspicious.

"I figured, since it works on you…" Buch grins.

"I am very punctual," Eddie grumbles. He finishes his coffee and checks Chris's backpack again, making sure he has everything he needs, just as Chris finally emerges from his room. Eddie passes the bag off, and Chris unpacks it, putting everything back in one at a time. 

"Dad, can I bring a—" 

Eddie takes a chocolate bar from the cabinet and holds it out for Chris to take. He rolls his eyes, exchanges a look with Buck, who's grinning behind his own coffee mug.

"Alright, buddy, ready to hit the road?" Buck stands up and claps his hand together. He had volunteered to be a chaperone for the field trip, a job Eddie was fairly happy to pass over — he loved his own kid, but being responsible for a half dozen other twelve year olds sounded like a nightmare — at a natural history museum no less, where there would be creepy dead animals with beady glass eyes staring and— nope, he wasn't going there. That was Buck's area of interest, so Eddie happily agreed to stay home.

Buck's excited though, Eddie can see it in his face as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.

"Bye, dad!" Chris shouts, heading out the front door without so much as a backwards glance.

"Bye, Chris! Be safe!"

Eddie walks to the door, a smile tugging at his lips at the kid's enthusiasm.

Buck meets him at the door. "I've got him, Eddie."

"I know you do. Have fun, okay?"

Buck snorts, like there was ever any question about him enjoying this.

Eddie reaches out, rests a hand on the side of Buck's face, and pulls him in for a kiss.

A peck on the lips, nothing more.

Chris calls, and Buck rushes after him to the car.

They drive away, and Eddie is still frozen in the doorway.

He kissed Buck. His best friend in the world. He kissed him. Like that's normal. Like they do it every morning.

Like a happily married couple, following their mór omg routine with Buck bringing their kid to school while Eddie stays home and looks after the house.

Eddie kissed Buck, and Buck just—

Had he kissed Eddie back? There wasn't really time, Eddie can't remember.

He stands there till the mail comes, and then he closes the door, standing in the silence of the house for long enough that he wonders if he'd just imagined it.

Then he goes to the kitchen,sees the remnants of proof that it had happened. The residual mess from breakfast, Buck's coffee cup and the core of an apple at the top of the trash.

Buck hadn't said anything. Eddie plays the moment over and over in his head all day as he cleans the house from top to bottom.

Cleaning the breakfast dishes, the Buck in his head looks shocked at the kiss.

Folding laundry: Could he have been happy? Excited, even, for something other than the museum?

Making himself lunch: Maybe Buck had been upset, maybe he was glad for the excuse to run away, maybe Eddie ruined everything.

He hears nothing from Buck all day. No calls, no texts, no selfies of him with a dinosaur skeleton.

Eddie mops, and he dusts, and he organises his fucking closet just for something to do. 

The clock ticks by, and right after five in the evening, he hears Buck's Jeep pull up. The door opening, Chris coming in. 

He hears every detail about the museum, the things he learned, the fact that Stephanie J got in trouble for trying to touch one of the displays.

Eddie listens to every word. He hears Buck suggest takeout for dinner, and feels himself nod. 

Chris disappears to his room.

"There's clean laundry on your bed, it better be put away by dinner!" Eddie calls after him.

Then he looks at Buck.

Buck, who's frowning. Brow pinched, eyes narrowed on Eddie.

Eddie braces himself.

Buck sits down, right beside him on the couch.

"Good day?" Eddie asks.

"Pretty good," Buck says. "Didn't really see much of the exhibits, you know?"

"Kids keep you occupied?" 

Is this it? They'll just act like nothing happened? Honestly, as these things go, Eddie thinks it might be the best course of action. He can't take it back, doesn't think he wants to take it back, but pretending it didn't happen is preferable than sitting through a rejection, so—

"Not so much the kids," Buck says, and then there's a hand on either side of Eddie's face, and he's being kissed.

Not just a peck, either: a full blown kiss. Buck is kissing him, and it takes Eddie the better part of a minute to get with the program and start kissing him back. He presses forward, all but climbing into Buck's lap.

Their lips part, but neither of them are in any hurry to put any further distance between them.

"Did you mean to kiss me this morning?" Buck asks. Eddie shakes his head.

"I didn't even realise I had until you were driving away. It just felt—"

"Natural?" Buck suggests. Eddie nods, their noses bumping.

"Yeah. Like it was something we always did."

"I sort of felt that too. Didn't realise till we were on the bus, and by then…"

"I know."

"Do you… do you want it?"

"Want what?" Eddie looks at Buck, so close, close enough to kiss again, but Eddie needs to hear this first, needs to know where Buck's head is.

"Do you want it to be something we always do?" Buck asks.

Eddie laughs quietly and presses a kiss to Buck's lips. "Absolutely."

"Good, because I'm not going to be able to stop now I've started."

Buck pulls Eddie close, and they don't part until the doorbell rings, and Eddie has to get up to pay for the pizza and call Chris for dinner, while Buck goes to make sure his laundry has been put away.

Buck doesn't go home that night, or the one after. They kiss goodbye at the door when he finally has to leave, to pick up a change of clothes for their next shift.

This time, it's on purpose, though it feels no less natural.

"So are you guys, like, dating now?" Chris asks, startling Eddie from where he's staring at the empty spot where Buck's keys had been.

"Uh…" Eddie stammers. "How would you feel about that?" He asks. He braces himself for Chris's reaction, kicking himself for not being more subtle, or maybe for not telling him immediately.

Chris shrugs. "Not many chaperones on school trips are dad's best friend. Most of the kids and teachers at school assumed he was my stepdad anyway. It's fine by me, as long as you're both happy."

"We are," Eddie promises.

"Cool. Are there any pop tarts left?" Chris wanders into the kitchen, conversation over.

Eddie stares after him. "Second shelf, behind Buck's protein bars."

"Thanks!"

Eddie hears the sound of things being pushed aside in the pantry, then the toaster, and Chris moving around in the kitchen.

Well, that was that, then.

Eddie had better get ready for work before Carla arrived to take Chris to school.

Work, where he'd see Buck again. Where they'd greet each other with a kiss before they walked inside.

Just a peck on the lips, a quick good morning. Because that was normal. It was something they did, and something they would keep doing.

#my fic #au gust fills #au gust 2023 #buddie #buck/eddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Ten

Day: Monday, October 30th Time: 11:10 AM EST

"I asked you this once and you didn't really answer," Neil said. "Now can you tell me why Andrew likes you?" "Last year Andrew took a few of us out to Eden's Twilight one at a time," Renee said. "You know now why Andrew invited Matt. He invited Dan to see if she was a woman worth following on the court. He asked me because he, like you, didn't buy into this front." She gestured at her face and rested her fingertips on her cross necklace. "He wanted the truth, so I told him. Andrew found out he and I have a lot in common." Renee glanced at Neil as they stopped at a crosswalk on Perimeter Road. "The only differences between us are luck and faith." "And psychosis," Neil said. Renee smiled. "Maybe not. I am a bad person trying very hard to be a good person, but I would not be trying at all if not for the outside interventions in my life. I grew up with my mother and her string of heavy- handed boyfriends." She seemed unbothered by her words and turned a calm stare on the crosswalk as she spoke. "Maybe it is inevitable that I got into trouble myself. I started working as a lookout and runner for one of Detroit's gangs. It took me a couple years to work my way up to harder work. I did anything they asked me to and didn't care who I hurt. Fortunately for me, I was not as smart as I thought I was. When I was fifteen the police caught me, and my lawyer traded my testimony for a reduced sentence. My words got a lot of people in trouble, including my mother. My lawyer explained my home life so the court would understand my lack of positive role models. His findings sent both my mother and her then-lover to prison on assorted charges. They were beaten to death by angry members of the gang I helped put away." "I'm sorry," Neil said, when in reality he was a little jealous. Both she and Wymack lost their parents to prison violence, but no one dared attack his father. It would solve a world of problems for Neil if a few inmates could just work up enough aggression and courage. "I'm not," Renee said, jarring Neil from his thoughts. Renee started across the street but it took Neil a couple seconds before he could follow her. Renee smiled at him when he caught up. "I know I should be, but that's still something I'm working on. I know I was directly responsible for the circumstances that led to their murders, but to be honest I hated them. On top of that, without my mother's death I never would have ended up here."With my mother dead and my biological father in the wind, the courts had no choice but to release me into foster care after my year at a juvenile facility," Renee said. "I made life as difficult as I could for my foster families and jumped eight homes in two years. Stephanie Walker found out about me from one of my foster mothers at her high school reunion. She put in a request for me, pushed until it was approved, and moved me to North Dakota as soon as it was finalized. She gave me a new name, a new faith, and a new chance at life." Renee hadn't been exaggerating when she said she and Andrew were a lot alike. They had violent, unstable upbringings thanks to their mothers and spent time in both juvie and the foster system. Their paths split irrevocably after their respective adoptions. Renee let Stephanie shape her into a decent human being and atoned for her past brutality whereas Andrew murdered his mother the first chance he got. Neil finally understood why Renee wasn't afraid of Andrew.

Art used with permission by Lunapiq. Thank you @lunapiq

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #trk #the raven king #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #artists #lunapiq

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do Part 27

Wc:3213 Masterpost CW: Hospitalization, discussions of temporary character deaths

The hospital was pure chaos. Reporters were at the door, police were at the reporters to stay back, and the Waynes were pacing.

None of them had wanted to be left behind, not with this, so as soon as those who had been playing hero changed, they all headed for the hospital. Bruce had met them in a waiting room that had been cleared out for their use. There were benefits to having a wing named after one’s father.

“Clear,” Babs said as she and Tim finished typing on the tablets that they had brought from WE. “CTV cameras will just loop past this room.”

“There are no bugs. I’ve activated scramblers for parabolic mics or anything, not that they should be able to get to us in here anyways,” Tim said.

“What happened?” Steph asked, looking to Bruce.

Bruce looked to Dick. The rest of the eyes followed.

Dick sighed.

“It’s not my secret to tell.”

“I believe we are past that, Richard,” Damian snapped.

“Why don’t you start with a debrief of tonight,” Bruce coached.

“I was almost in suit when Babs came over the comms, telling us they took Danny. I started to look for suspicious vehicles given the time frame. I wasn’t successful at spotting anything before the…” Dick was really glad that Jason was back with Danny and not here listening to this. “…before the trap went off. I saw one of the buildings go dark.

"Cass joined me. We took out the henchmen at the van and leading into the building. Based on intel, I headed straight for the basement. The place was flooded an inch or two deep. They broke the sprinkler valve, I believe. Danny was tied to a metal chair bolted in the middle of the room. A wire had been tapped into the circuit breaker and was at Danny’s feet. His shoes were off.”

Dick swallowed hard and let his arms drop to his side. That urge to punch something was still there. He flexed his hands and then purposefully relaxed them.

“I was sure he was dead, but when I called out his name he moved. I made sure the circuit breaker was off, disconnected the wire, and went to him. He was…” Dick snorted, shaking his head. “He was making jokes. He was conscious but not fully lucid. Confusion, slurred words, panic. He didn’t want to be taken to the hospital. He thought they would cut him open if ‘they knew’. I was able to convince him to come by saying we’d get Leslie and that we’d protect him.”

Damian scoffed. “Of course we will.”

“Case?” Cass signed, face scrunched up in question.

“And asked Alfred to bring a case, one that Jason put in the Cave that Danny gave him,” Dick confirmed.

“What’s in it?” Tim asked.

Dick just shook his head.

“He’s a Meta, isn’t he?” Duke asked. The question was quiet, but it felt loud in the tense air of the waiting room. He wasn’t staring at the ground rather than any of them. “Something new. Maybe something dangerous or, worse, something useful. It’s why he’s afraid they’ll cut him open.”

Steph cussed and turned to punch the wall only to be stopped by Tim.

“Is he?” Tim asked.

It seemed like there was no getting out of this question. “’Close enough’ was the way it was put when I stumbled in on… the secret.”

“Are his powers electricity based?” Babs asked. “Is that how he survived?”

Dick laughed. The bitter sound made a few of the others flinch or grimace.

“No, opposite, really. He’s weak to it. I think they only got him because they used tasers and it really knocks him out.” I’m so sorry, Danny, Dick thought. “Danny… Danny’s been electrocuted before when he was a kid. It killed him, however briefly. Really… I’m not sure if it didn’t actually kill him again tonight.”

This time Tim didn’t stop Stephanie from punching the wall.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Dr. Thompkins said as she peeled off her gloves.

Danny just glared at the IV in his hand that had been carefully tapped down and put under a mesh glove.

“It’s like she doesn’t trust me,” Danny whispered loudly to Jason.

“She’s right not to,” Jason said.

Danny pouted at him.

“Fish,” Jason said with a wet chuckle. He ran his hand through Danny’s hair again, which seemed to soothe him. “You said loudly and repeatedly that you were going to go out the window as soon as she stopped watching you or if she took your blood or if she put the IV in.”

“She did take it,” Danny whined.

“I did,” Leslie said, “and I also promised you no one else would get a hold of your blood and I meant it. I need a baseline for you though. It’s my job now to make sure that you’re well.”

“And no clones,” Danny said.

“And no clones,” Leslie said.

She shot Jason a look who just shrugged helplessly. He didn’t know enough about what went down with that to answer her questions.

Leslie gave up with a sigh. “You really went and found someone who fit right in with the family craziness I see.”

“Nah, Doc, he goes above and beyond.”

“Well… that should make for an interesting file.”

Danny flinched at that, hard enough for Leslie to notice and stop what she was doing.

“Danny, listen to me,” Leslie said. She waited until Danny met her eyes to continue. “No one else will see the file. It’s encrypted by Oracle, Batman’s tech person, and that’s understating them. I need to keep a file so that I can treat you and keep you healthy, that’s all.”

“No experiments,” Danny croaked.

Jason wanted to punch someone again.

“No experiments,” Leslie promised.

Danny gave a little nod, turned away from her, and all but climbed into Jason’s lap.

“Make sure he doesn’t pull that IV out,” Leslie ordered and went back to making her notes.

Not long after Jason had gotten him and Danny settled into the hospital bed, there was a knock at the door. Jason’s hand went immediately to the scalpel that Leslie had generously pretended not to notice Jason palming earlier. It didn’t matter that it was a knock Jason recognized, he wasn’t taking any chances with Danny right then.

Jason only relaxed when Dick had stepped fully through the door alone.

“Hey Danny, how are you doing?”

“Leslie took my blood.”

“Yeah, she does that,” Dick said. He was smiling, words cheerful, but Jason could see the cracks in his brother’s facade. “Alfred is going to be here in just a moment with the case. Can I send him in when he arrives? Or I can bring it myself? Or any of us. We’re all out there.”

Danny turned his head enough to be able to peer at Dick with one eye. “You’re worried.”

“Yeah, little fish, we’re all pretty worried. We care about you,” Dick said gently.

Jason resisted the urge to kiss Danny’s pout away as he shifted his gaze from Dick to Leslie.

“Can they come in?” Danny asked.

Leslie pursed her lips. “Only for a half hour. After that, it’s only Jason and one other allowed at a time and that’s only because I want Jason to try to get some rest too. Whoever else is in here is on a minimum two hour shift so not to wake you up every five minutes.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dick chirped.

“And tell them to keep it calm,” Leslie called after Dick as he slipped back out the door. She sighed and shook her head before focusing back on Danny. “Now, there will be nurses who come in.”

“Noooo,” Danny whined.

“Yes,” Leslie said. “They’ll just be taking your blood pressure, which they’ll know to expect to be low, and changing out your saline and pain medication. I’ll be back in the morning myself to check on your burns. Everyone who steps foot in this room will be approved by Bruce and I. Someone from the family will be with you the whole time, you’ll be safe in every way.”

Danny’s pout deepened before he sighed heavily and seemed to deflate. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Danny. Now please try to rest after the group leaves, both of you.”

“Sure, Doc,” Jason answered and sent her a smile. He’d have to do something to help her clinic out soon, she really went above and beyond for them tonight. He managed to get Danny turned around so that his boyfriend wasn’t buried face first into his pecs before his family invaded.

It seemed like everyone was really trying to listen to Leslie and they all filed in orderly and tucked themselves onto the couch and chairs and each other. Bruce and Alfred stayed standing.

“Hi guys,” Danny said with a wobbly smile.

Some of the family flinched at how ruined Danny’s voice sounded. The flinches weren’t obvious to be noticed by anyone by a Bat, except maybe for Duke’s, but they still happened and Jason noticed. They all looked wrecked, really, in various ways. One would almost think they had been the ones kidnapped and murdered tonight.

It was Jason’s turn to flinch at his own thoughts. Greedily, he soothed himself by pressing a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“Hi Danny,” Duke said back. “How are you?”

“You know, feeling a little extra crispy,” he joked.

The room seemed to lose all the air for a moment before Tim groaned. “God, there are two of them now. No wonder you’re dating Jason, you have the same morbid sense of humor.”

The tension in the room broke and Barbie even laughed. (They all ignored how the laugh was a little too tinged with hysteria to be truly happy.)

Alfred cleared his throat and stepped forward. “The case, Master Jason.”

“Ooh, is that…” Danny asked, zeroing in on the case.

“Yep,” Jason confirmed, popping the ‘p’.

Danny held out his arms, making grabby hands at the case. Alfred raised a brow, looking to Jason for permission, before he moved forward and handed over the case. Jason rested his hand on the lid before Danny could open it.

“So,” Jason started. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “no one freak out, okay? What’s in the case isn’t what it looks like. And… and we’ll explain?”

He wasn’t sure if they would.

He wasn’t sure if they could afford not to.

“We’ll explain,” Danny confirmed.

“Okay, Jay-lad,” Bruce agreed, though Jason could tell he didn’t know what he was agreeing to, other than trusting his son.

Jason took a breath and removed his hand. Danny flipped the lid open. It was innocuous at first, a simple black padded case. Then Danny plucked out one of the glowing, Lazarus green ectoshots and the stances of several Bats shifted.

“That is—” Damian started.

“Nope,” Jason interrupted.

“Jay—” Bruce rumbled.

“I’m sure,” Jason said. He glanced at Cass. “Really.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Tim asked, sounding a little strangled.

“Drink it,” Danny answered.

“Drink it?!”

Danny’s nose wrinkled. “Does everyone in this room have issues with that— what did you call it— Pit water?”

“Pit water or Lazarus water,” Jason said. He calmly ran his fingers through Danny’s hair as he made sure to not have a reaction to the ectoshots. Danny needed to drink them, he couldn’t have any of it spilled from misplaced panic. “And a lot of us, yeah. It’s… been a thing. My situation didn’t help any.”

Tim frowned at the vial, clearly itching to get his hands on it. “If that’s not Lazarus water, what is it?”

“Ectoplasm,” Danny sing songed and then just downed the vial to the wince of the room. A shudder ran through his body before he slumped bonelessly against Jason.

Jason plucked the empty vial from Danny’s limp fingers, pressed a kiss to his temple, and put it back in the case. “From best we can think without getting our hands on Lazarus water, they’re a bit related, but ectoplasm is a pure source where as whatever Lazarus water is, it’s fucked up. Beyond that, I think…”

Jason sighed and buried his face in the top of Danny’s head. He didn’t know how to explain the next part to his family. He didn’t know how to tell them he was still, at least a little, dead. He didn’t want to hurt them like that.

“Ectoplasm isn’t a miracle cure, not like it sounds they use Lazarus water for,” Danny said around a jaw cracking yawn. “Doesn’t work for normal people.”

“Does it work for you because you’re a meta?” Duke asked. The sympathy in his voice was hard to hear.

Danny’s laugh wasn’t any easier to hear. “Nope! I mean, like, sure how you count Superman as a meta I’m a meta, I guess. More a different species.”

Steph made an incredulous noise. “You’re an alien?”

“I wish,” Danny snickered. “I’m dead.”

“That is not funny, Nightingale,” Damian snapped.

Jason peered up at his bristling little brother. Demon brat really was already attached to Danny. “He’s not trying to be funny, Dami. Danny is half dead or, rather, half ghost.”

“Okay, which of your parents fucked a ghost?”

“Miss Stephanie,” Alfred chastised.

“Sorry Alfie,” Stephanie mumbled under Danny’s snickering.

At least having almost died (again) tonight saved Danny from being admonished too.

“Ancient, no, my parents hate ghosts,” Danny said.

“But you’re half ghost,” Babs pointed out, gently.

“Yeah. And there’s a reason that I changed my last name and don’t talk to them anymore, not that they know,” Danny said. He stretched out his arms, arching like a cat. Clearly the ectoshot was starting to have an effect. “No, I’m half dead ‘cause I died and then didn’t.”

“You’ve died before, Danny?” Bruce asked, voice carefully gentle in that way he used only when talking to his kids or those who were basically family through his kids.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “It was, um, don’t like talking about it. It’s a ghost thing. But my parents built a portal to the ghost’s realm to try and study them. It didn’t work, not at first. I stepped in it, tripped, hit the on button and bam… ten thousand volts of electricity later and I’m dead.”

Tim and Cass both reached out to stop Steph from moving.

“Thing is, the portal turned on,” Danny continued. “So I also got pure ectoplasm shot right through me. It brought me back, kinda. I’m a halfa; half ghost and half human. Half dead and half alive.”

“You’ve died by electricity before,” Bruce said into the silence of the room.

“Probably died again to it tonight,” Danny said with a casualness that had Jason tightening his arms around Danny. Danny just giggled. “But like I told Dick, I’m immune now.”

“You know,” Barbie said. She narrowed her eyes as Danny shrugged before she glanced to Dick. “And you knew.”

Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Little wing?”

“Go ahead, Dick. I’m pretty sure you’ve connected all the dots now,” Jason said. Maybe it would be easier, no, smoother if Dick explained it. He was better at hiding his anger.

Though by the way Dick had to shift on his feet, maybe not. “I… I think I have. Then you’re…?”

Jason nodded.

“Fuck!” Dick twisted and paced to the door and back again.

“Master Richard!”

“Don’t be so harsh, Alfie,” Jason said. He couldn’t make Dick be the one to tell them; that had been a selfish hope. “Dick just put two and two together that if the ectoshots only help Danny because he’s dead—”

“Part dead,” Danny chimed in brightly.

“—then that means I’m still part dead too.”

“Jay-lad?” Bruce prompted after a tense moment, voice rough.

Jason just smiled sadly. “The Pits healed me. It sorta… filled in the cracks, but it couldn’t fix that whatever brought me back didn’t bring all of me back… or couldn’t bring all of me back. I think that’s part of why the Pits had such a hold on me. Not that it’s an excuse, but just… whatever. Point is, I’m a halfa too, even if I’m still healing enough to be a proper one.”

The family practically curled around each other in grief. Dick tucked Damian against his side. Tim slumped into Steph and Cass. Steph reached out to squeeze Bab’s hand. Bruce took an aborted step towards them. Even Alfred raised a hand to his mouth.

“I’m alright,” Jason assured them.

“You’re still dead!” Dick snapped.

“I’m half alive, that’s more than I was before,” Jason pointed out.

Dick hunched into himself at that, prompting Damian to give Dick an awkward looking hug.

“What all does that mean, being a halfa?” Bruce asked. He held up a hand as he paused and took a measured breath. “I don’t mean that as an interrogation. Right now, what’s important for us to know to make sure you’re both healthy? Or is there anything that we should avoid doing?”

Jason snorted. He appreciated the clarification, the attempt at being gentle, he did, but, “I know you want to know more than that.”

Bruce smiled, though the expression was more mocking himself than anything. “Of course I do. You know me, chum, I don’t do good with only pieces of information, but right now I’m not the important one. I can deal with some… unease so that we can focus on you and Danny.”

“Danny should drink at least another ectoshot in a bit. They help us heal as halfas. Dick knows because there was an incident where I got stabbed. Danny sensed my distress and showed up to give me an ectoshot. I had called Dick already. Which means Danny also knows about everything.”

“Danny sensed your distress?” Tim asked.

“It’s a ghost thing,” Jason said with a shrug, unsure how to really explain it. “It comes from ghosts having cores which are sort of their central organ.”

“You core?” Cass asked, clearly struggling to verbalize right then with how her nose wrinkled.

“I do. Or, I’m getting more of one. Because the Pits put me back together badly I was really messed up.”

“It’s coming in well,” Danny said sleepily. He yawned wildly (a little too widely) and turned to bury his face into Jason’s chest. “Pretty lava core too. It’s good to have close for healing. It’s warm and lovely.”

Jason snorted and kissed the top of Danny’s head. “Go to sleep if you can. You’ll need lots of rest.”

Danny huffed a mumbled protest, but Jason could tell that Danny was fading fast.

“We’ll talk more later, Jay-lad,” Bruce said as he finally let himself come close to help Danny and Jason better settle into the hospital bed to sleep.

“Yeah,” Jason said as he fought his own yawn as the head of the bed lowered. “Have to have Danny show you his ghost form, it’s really something.”

Tim echoed ‘ghost form’ quietly in the background as Alfred murmured something to the group.

“Do you want myself or Dick here for the first shift?” Bruce asked.

“Stay?” Jason asked. His eyes dropped closed as his dad ran a hand through his hair.

“Always.”

---

AN: a very tired taaaaaada. They got the bulk of the explanation! Though still things to learn and talk about. I was going to put in more bits, but this felt full the way it was! Next chapter more answers, more questions, and someone shows up.

I no longer tag people but you can subscribe on the masterpost.

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do