#Bruce doesn’t do it in the Cave because a) he wouldn’t take his aggression out on his kids | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

psychovigilantewrites · 3 years ago

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Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt.

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

389 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

The Secrets Best Left In The Dark

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death

Author's Note: I thrive on angst, so I have no apologies for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

They’d never claim their eldest sibling was cowardly. Far from it, she put her life on the line every day, in and out of the suit, defending those she cared for with a strength that they’d never seen in anyone. But while everyone in their family was typically hot-tempered and ready for a beatdown, she was calm and quiet. Always kind, and never letting anger, or any type of other emotion show besides pleasantness. For a while, they merely assumed she was the doormat type, simply on the basis that she never argued with their dad over anything—the whole “It’s my way or the highway” and his way was what she always went with—and that made her seem like an alien surrounded by humans because everyone argued with Bruce. That, and the fact that whenever she got into the rare fight during patrol, she’d never hit anybody. She was trained to take down multiple combatants and not once did she ever punch, hit, or kick a single person.

It was practically abnormal to be in the Batfamily and never lay a hand on a criminal, and yet that was what their sister did. Hardly ever did she use force to get what she wanted, always relying on stealth. Even on the minute cases when she got caught in an infiltration and had to fight her way out, she used electrified gauntlets to subdue them, rarely coming to blows. So, in a sense while everyone in her family was an aggressive fighter, she was a defensive—or perhaps a passive one—and that’s how she acted in life too. Always passive by nature, but always playing the peacekeeper between brothers and between fathers and sons.

They never knew why she was such a way, from the stories that Diana and Clark used to tell, back when it was just their sister and Bruce, she was a whirlwind that got into fights with anything that dared breathe in her direction—apparently, she made her angriest siblings look like mice. But no matter how many times they pried or even asked Bruce (apparently, he didn’t know what changed either—and this was coming from the World’s Greatest Detective), she never talked about it, simply saying that she grew out of always being angry and wanted to be calmer.

They suspected she held a dark secret—but no one could’ve prepared for just how dark and damaging it had been to her all these years.

***

In hindsight, taking a trip into Scarecrow’s lab was a bad idea, but when the offer had come up in the cave from her father, (Y/N) was happy to lend a hand, knowing that with his recent injury, he wouldn’t’ve been able to get out there during the night. It was also amazing, in the twenty-seven years she’d been alive, and in the past nineteen years that she’d been a vigilante, she’d never seen her father take a break—she could count on one hand how many times he had, and even then, he was still working in the cave, so technically it wasn’t a break.

But after tangling with Bane and Croc, he’d broken a few ribs and after repeated complaints and worries from her, his sons, and Alfred, Bruce finally agreed to let his children handle patrol. Which is why when the quadrants of the city were split up between Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian, it left (Y/N) to pick up specific places that Bruce wanted checked out—she warmly agreed to do so. And while she was confident in her abilities to do everything, he asked of her, she should’ve called for backup when it came to infiltrating Scarecrow’s hideout.

***

Another vent went off above her and she ducked, eyes narrowing as she watched the orange fog, appearing blue through her detective mode, drift out. She would’ve sprayed it, but she’d used up all of her explosive gel covering the others. Now she simply had to avoid them and hope that her gas mask filtered properly—so far, it was. A shrill laugh echoed through the speakers above her, and shivers went down her spine.

Anytime now, Batgirl. You will fall too.

She frowned. “I’m not afraid of you, Doctor Crane.” Ducking under another pipe, she added, “I can help you if you’ll let me.”

Help me? Help…ME? You can’t even help YOURSELF!

Scarecrow had always been a talker, much like the majority of the villains they faced, and he was looking for a rise. She came to the end of the corridor where the pipes met a brick wall and she sighed, searching for a way through. A vent covered the top right corner and she pulled out the grapple gun, pointing it at the grate. She pressed the trigger and it latched onto the metal bars; grasping the cord, she yanked as hard as she could, stepping backwards when it fell, hitting the ground with a clang.

(Y/N) heaved herself up into the vent and crawled on her hands and knees, as quietly as she could, twisting and turning through the maze of confined metal. When she came to the end, another grate covered the exit and she pressed her foot against it, pushing until the bolts popped loose and she could slip out.

From the looks of it, if the advanced chemistry equipment were any help, she’d ended up in Scarecrow’s lab. He wasn’t in sight, but that gave her time to look around and see if he’d changed any formulas recently. She raised her wrist and tapped at the blue screen, taking a moment to run a program. When it beeped, (Y/N) sighed in relief and reached up, pulling the gas mask off—the air was clean.

She set the mask down on the counter and put a finger to her ear. “Batman, do you read me?” His voice came through a moment later.

“I read you Batgirl. Loud and clear.”

“I’m in Doctor Crane’s lab,” she said, poking around at the notes he’d scrawled out. “I don’t see anything new. The formulas all look the same.”

“Compounds?”

She frowned and read. “Honestly, it’s a bit hard to decipher. His handwriting is a lot like Red’s when he’s had one too many energy drinks.” A quiet huff came from over the line, telling her that he was amused. “I’ll send you pictures of it and see if you can.” (Y/N) snapped a few photos. “Get ‘em?”

“Just now,” he replied, and she walked over to one of the lit Bunsen burners.

“Looks like he’s got something brewing right now though,” (Y/N) leaned over and peered into it, careful to avoid any steam that was rising.

“Recognize it?”

She paused. “It’s not the usual stuff he’s got. It looks almost golden and—”

All at once the dish exploded and she had just enough time to cover her face from the shattering glass, letting out a gasp as she recoiled.

“Batgirl, what happened?”

(Y/N) coughed and waved a hand, and when her hand appeared double, she breathed out in shock. “Oh no,” she whispered.

“Batgirl, report.” She hurried to the exit of the lab as Scarecrow’s cackle sounded overhead.

“I’ve been hit with a blast of toxin.” Pulling open the door, she fumbled with her utility belt then let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) shook her head and weaved down the corridors, the faster she got to her bike, the faster she could get back to the cave.

“I don’t have any anti-toxin on me.” She pushed against the doors and stumbled out into the cold and rainy night. Her mind was already beginning to fog over as she climbed onto her bike, and she barely had enough focus to keep it steady while she programmed it to auto-drive.

“I’m sending one of the boys to you.”

She grunted and lifted her foot as the bike revved and shot forward. “Don’t. I’ve already programmed the bike to the cave’s coordinates. I’ll be back in less than fifteen minutes.”

“You won’t make it that long.”

(Y/N) groaned as the lights began to flash around her and she saw faces and images passing her. “I just have to…focus.”

Horns blared around her as the bike weaved in and out of cars and she held onto the frame with all the strength she had. His voice started echoing in her ears and she shut her eyes, trying to block it out.

You could’ve saved me.

Another groan escaped her, and she heard, “(Y/N), talk to me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t—I have to—focus now.” But with every passing second, his voice got louder and more insistent.

You let me die. You watched me die.

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears and they dripped down her cheeks. I tried to save you. she thought, hoping it would suffice, but she knew it wouldn’t. I tried so hard to. The last thing she remembered was turning onto the street that led to the cave.

***

Bruce was already pushing away from the Batcomputer when the boys arrived back at the cave, Dick and Damian from the Batmobile, and Tim and Jason from their own rides. Knowing that their father wasn’t one to sit around, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to be moving, but with how quick and worried his movements seemed, they knew something was wrong.

Dick pulled the cowl away from his face and asked, “B? What’s wrong?”

Bruce didn’t respond at first, hurrying towards the medical station they had. “Your sister was dosed with fear toxin and she doesn’t have anti-toxin to counteract it.”

Jason, who’d already taken his hood off, was already in the process of putting it back on. “Let one of us take it to her.”

Their father shook his head, rummaging for an antidote. “She’s coming back here.”

“Here?” Tim repeated, striding over. “Fear toxin works within seconds on normal people, minutes for us.” He looked at his brothers. “She won’t have enough time to get back here and not be under the effects.”

Bruce nodded, focusing as he poured a vial of glowing green liquid into the needle gun. “I know.” He looked at Tim. “That’s why I’m getting it ready for her.”

“Father, can we do anything?” Damian questioned, pulling away the domino mask from his eyes.

“Get ready to be on the defensive if she’s offensive,” he replied. “I don’t think she’ll hit anybody, but you never know.”

“She can’t hit that hard. (Y/N) only weighs—” Jason cut off as the rev of an engine cut though the air and they turned to see their eldest sister coming in on a sleek black motorcycle, that was shaking badly.

“(Y/N)!” Dick yelled and the bike suddenly shifted and toppled sideways, throwing her from it. It slid across the cave floor in a hail of sparks, metal, and plastic flying in every direction as (Y/N) rolled too.

They started running towards her, hoping to stop her when her back collided with one of the glass cases that held their suits, and she went limp.

Bruce reached her first, and knelt down, setting the antidote aside to check her first. The way she hit the case and with how hard, it was possible that she could be seriously injured—or worse.

“(Y/N)!” he called, hands coming to pull her away from the case. She whimpered and he let out a sigh—she was still alive. “(Y/N), can you hear me?” he inquired, reaching up to pull the cowl from her face.

Her brothers crowded behind him and they all stared in horror as tears streamed down her cheeks, and blood out of her nose.

“I’m sorry,” she bawled. “I tried to save you.” Bruce looked at her then grabbed the needle gun, bringing it up to her neck.

“Hang on, (Y/N). You’re gonna be okay.”

She grabbed his hand and cried, “I held on as long as I could, but my grip was slipping. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold onto you. I’m sorry I let you go. I let you die. I’m sor—” her sobs cut her off as she curled in on herself, and as if finally snapping out of a trance, Bruce pulled his hand from her grip and pulled the trigger of the gun.

(Y/N) jerked as the needle entered her skin and they watched the neon green liquid in the vial emptied. She fell into whimpers and mumbles of “I’m sorry” before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in Bruce’s arms.

He stared at her for a second, feeling numb at his daughter’s admissions. Whatever her fear had been, it’d been there a long time, and he had no idea what it was about. Sighing heavily, he drew his eyes to his sons, to Jason.

“Will you take (Y/N) to her bedroom while I get an IV ready?”

Jason nodded and bent down, picking up his unconscious sister. He tucked her head in the crook of his neck and looked at Dick. “Get the doors, yeah?” Dick nodded and hurried ahead of him, while Tim and Damian followed in suit.

Bruce was left alone in a matter of moments, and all he could do was rise to his feet and ready the medical supplies, all the while, thinking back on every night that (Y/N) had gone on patrol in the last nineteen years—and the last time someone died in front of her.

***

Her head felt like an overripe melon ready to burst, and that first moment of cracking her eyes open was the biggest mistake since she told her dad what ‘Thot’ meant. The second she opened them, she shut them once more, inhaling deeply through her nose as the fog started to clear from her mind.

“Queenie, hey, you’re awake,” Jason murmured, and she nodded, blinking a few times before his face came into focus, Dick appearing Tim appearing behind him.

“Go get dad,” Dick said to someone, and she figured it was Damian since neither Jason nor Tim moved.

(Y/N) started shifting, trying to sit up when Dick put his hand on her shoulder, gentle, but firm as he said, “Don’t try to move, Barbie.”

“Where’s dad?” she asked, craning her neck to see.

“Damian’s going to get him sis,” Tim answered, smoothing out the blanket covering her. “Just relax. You took a beating when you came into the cave.”

“I did?” she questioned, eyes widening in shock when they nodded, faces pinched with worry.

The ceiling light turned on just bright enough to give sight and they looked at Bruce who was coming in, Damian following.

“(Y/N),” Dick moved, letting Bruce take his spot, and he took her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “You had us all worried.”

She frowned and exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She gazed between them, and something in their eyes made an emotion she couldn’t describe rise in her chest.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” (Y/N) met Bruce’s eyes. “What happened?” Before he could answer, she gasped and looked at her brothers. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

A chorus of hurried, “No’s!” rang out and she sighed in relief, reclining back on the pillows.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She went silent, then started, “But…something did happen, didn’t it?”

Her brothers glanced between themselves then they looked at Bruce who sighed and squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to him.

“What?” she asked and when he said nothing, she repeated, “Dad, what?”

His steel blue eyes met hers and he murmured, “You were apologizing for…letting someone die.”

Whatever had flashed in her eyes that told them she knew exactly what they were talking about was shocking enough because Jason said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna, Queenie.”

(Y/N) fell silent for a full minute and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and the look in her eyes was far away. “Before Dick came to the manor it was just you and I patrolling Gotham. At eight, I wasn’t really let out of your sight, but one night I had wandered off while you were dealing with Two-Face.” She looked at Bruce. “I found an injured GCPD officer on a bridge. He had been tailing Killer Croc.”

She glanced at Tim. “His name was Grady Richards.”

Tim’s eyes fell to the tablet in his hands, and he tapped at the screen for a few moments, then read, “Hero cop Grady Richards honored after dying in line of duty. He fell off a broken bridge on Miagani Island.”

Bruce’s eyes found hers again. “He didn’t fall, did he?”

(Y/N) felt tears grow in her vision and she shook her head. “No…no he didn’t.” Inhaling deeply, she recounted, “Croc came back and there was no way either of us could’ve taken him, so we ran. And Croc chased us.” She shut her eyes, remembering the night.

***

Fear pulsed through her veins as she sprinted as far away from the overgrown crocodile as she could. The GCPD officer was ahead of her, but he stopped and spun around to see her.

“Hurry!” he yelled, pointing back to the car. “Get to the cruiser!”

She spared a glance over her shoulder, eyes going wide when she saw Killer Croc picking up one of the concrete guards.

“Duck!” was all she heard, and she hit the ground, watching as if in slow motion as it flew overhead, then smashed into the top of the cop’s car, glass and metal shattering under the pressure.

Someone grabbed her by the back of her suit and hauled her up, slinging her behind them, and the back of the GCPD officer’s uniform came into view.

“Start running, Batgirl! And don’t stop!” he yelled, and when he has his sidearm drawn, he looked down at her. “You’ve got as much time as I have bullets.” He turned, opening fire, and she took a moment to stare before scrambling to her feet to start running.

A cry of pain sounded behind her, and against her better judgement, she turned and looked, gaping as Croc’s arm sent the officer flying. He hit the guardrail and collapsed against it and her feet were moving before she could stop them.

The first punch went to the back of Croc’s knee and she knew it had to have hurt her more than it did him because he didn’t even flinch. But when those glowing yellow eyes peered down at her, she knew she was in trouble.

“Looks like I’ve got an appetizer for the night!” he laughed and reached for her, but she ducked and rolled out of his way, standing in front of the wounded GCPD officer, who weakly looked up at her.

“What are you—doing? I told you…to run.”

She couldn’t beat Killer Croc, and she knew it, but she shook her head and stared down the villain before her.

Croc’s attacks were wide and though she was small, she was pushed to her limit rolling and dodging every one. After a few moments, she was practically dead on her feet, huffing as her lungs begged for air. She kept wiping away the rain that splattered against her mask and on a particularly unlucky step, she found herself slipping.

And it was all the opening that Croc needed because he swiped at her and she flew backwards into the officer who’d managed to stand, just barely. Colliding with him tipped his balance and they went over the guardrail, barreling towards the ground.

She reached out as fast as she could and grabbed hold of the metal beam that ran the length of the under bridge, crying out in pain as it pulled the joints and bones. Her other hand gripped the officer’s and she held on tight. Croc leaned over the bridge, apparently not seeing them because his footsteps went off in the opposite direction, leaving them in silence.

Time passed and she wasn’t sure how long, but both her arms were getting tired, and she looked down at the officer.

“Sir?” she called, and he looked up at her. “You have to climb. I’m starting to lose grip.”

He tried to reach up but let out a cry and grabbed his side with his free hand. Pulling his hand away, she saw the crimson dilute with rainwater.

The hand that held the ledge began to cramp and she started hyperventilating. “Please, you need to hurry! I can’t hold on much longer!” Again, he tried, and she looked down at him as her fingers began to shake.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered and let go of his hand, and the last thing she saw until he hit the ground was the sight of his eyes, wide with fear and pleading.

***

“I watched his head explode when he hit the ground,” she said, tears pouring down her cheeks as she stared out the window, watching the rain hit against the glass. “I had to make a choice. Either both of us died or one of us lived.” (Y/N) looked at Bruce. “And I chose my life over his.”

No one could believe their ears at the story she’d told, but suddenly, the self-sacrificing attitude their sister had, the way she’d bend over backwards for anyone, made perfect sense—she did it out of atonement, for a wrong she carried since she was eight years old.

“I pulled myself back up onto the bridge and I ran as far as I could and didn’t look back,” she said. “I kept my mouth shut when the paper ran his story and never told anyone about it.”

(Y/N)’s breath shuddered. “I just pushed it down as far inside me as I could and tried to forget about it.” Her eyes met Bruce and she tearfully stated, “But every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face.”

He leaned forward and took her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly, dark brows furrowed in hurt.

She swallowed thickly and shook her head as she replied, “I killed someone that night. I was terrified about what you would’ve said. About what you would’ve done.” He gazed at her and (Y/N) whispered, “I’m sorry, dad.”

Bruce dropped her gaze and took a deep breath before murmuring, “It was just an accident, (Y/N).”

“I let go of—”

“I would’ve been more upset having to bury my daughter,” he interrupted, and she fell silent, gaping at him. He searched her face and reached up, placing a hand on her cheek. “I understand why you kept this secret, but you should’ve come to me, (Y/N).” Shaking his head, he added, “You didn’t deserve to be buried under this for nineteen years.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her head and Bruce shook his head in response.

“No, I’m sorry.” When she met his eye, he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were carrying this. Then and now.”

(Y/N) swallowed and rested back against the bed. “I send his widow money on the anniversary of his death. I slip it into the pension she’s given.” She let out a sigh. “It’s the only way I’ve found that I could sleep at night.”

Her eyes drifted to the window and Bruce placed a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” She nodded and before he left, he said, “And when you feel up for it, we’ll see about setting up a fund in his name.”

She wished it didn’t make her as emotional as it did, but silent tears dripped down her cheeks as the door closed, leaving her and her brothers alone. They gathered on her bed, leaning close to offer their support, and she was thankful for them doing so. And for the first time in nineteen years, when (Y/N) closed her eyes, she didn’t see Grady Richards’ face.

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ellana-ravenwood · 5 years ago

Text

“It’s Alfred dayyyy” - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Every year, every single year, your family reunites to celebrate the marvel that Alfred Pennyworth is.

Because Alfred does deserve his own “holiday” really. This has been sitting in my draft for almost two years, someone send me an ask that reminded me of it and I just suddenly really wanted to write it. I hope you’ll like it :

my master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

Midnight, a new day :

“And we will be waiting for you at 8 am, your mom and I forced him to sleep in, but we all know he will be awake by that time anyway.”

“Ok, I’ll pick Jaybird on my way there.”

“Jason is coming ?”

“He said he would.”

“Oh. Good.”

Dick did his hardest not to roll his eyes. “Oh. Good.” he says, as if the news didn’t make him wanna jump in joy. But of course, the Batman has a reputation to keep, if he showed too much emotions in one sitting, he’d probably explode.

The truth was that if Jason was coming...Well if Jason was coming, it meant they were finally on the road to forgiveness. And Dick knew that Bruce had been waiting a long time for this. Bruce...and everyone else really.

Especially you and Alfred.

“In any case, be there by 8. We’ll do the usual. Now that I think of it, could you maybe pick up his cake at West Side’s bakery ? Your mother was going to do it, but if you pick up Jason...I think he lives in the area ?”

Of course, Bruce knew exactly that Jason indeed lived not far from Alfred’s favorite bakery. Because he was keeping an eye on him. Not out of mistrust, or thinking he would kill again (he promised his mom, you, he would stop, but the promise was still recent, so was his return), but because...Well, it was his boy.

Ever since Bruce adopted Dick, he never stopped worrying about his kids. He never stopped trying to keep an eye on them. It got even worst after Jason’s death...He was actually overbearing many times, which lead Dick away more than once.

But he’d always be back.

Just like Jason, eventually, would be fully back.

For the moment, it was enough that he’d come by tomorrow.

For tomorrow was the one and only...”Alfred day”.

“Yeah sure, we can pick the cake up.”

“Alright. Well. I’m going home, and you lot should too. We promised Alfred, after all. An entire day without any vigilante’s business. Unless there’s an emergency of course. Good night.”

“’Night dad.”

Bruce turns to his youngest kids, expecting them to follow him, but Damian says :

“We’re right behind you, we’re just gonna hang out with Grayson a little more. Since he moved to Blüdhaven, we almost never see him...”

“Guiltripping me will not work little brother.”

“Are you sure ?”

Silence. And then Dick turns to his father :

“I’ll get them home soon, we’re gonna go get some ice cream.”

Bruce smiles, of this small genuine smile he only has when around his children. He nods, tell them not to stay out too late, and leaves, on his way back to you.

12:30 pm, Batcave.

“You are late, Master Bruce.”

“Only by half an hour. I had to see Dick before coming back. Logistic talk.”

As he speaks, Bruce takes his armor off, stretching a little after this short night full of not much happening. As if every villain in Gotham knew this day was happening, and they too would give a break to the butler (because if Bruce was resting, then Alfred could rest too).

“Well it means you’ll have to start half an hour late tomorrow, this is the deal. Where are the children ?”

“Alright. I will. And they’re getting ice cream with Dick. Now please, go to bed before she catches you up.”

“Lady (Y/N) will understand that I was making sure you are home on time.”

“She does understand yes, and she’s also telling you to go rest this instant ! You have slept even less than Bruce this past few days for god’s sake !”

Both Bruce and Alfred jumps a bit as you enter the bat cave, smiling at them. Alfred raises his hands in a sign of peace, smiles at you, gives you a kiss goodnight on your forehead (a nightly tradition, by now...you never had a dad, and Alfred took it upon him to catch up lost time), and leaves.

You turn to Bruce, and gives him your hand.

He takes it gladly, a smile on his lips. The kind he only shows when around those he loves...

A “glad you’re here” kiss, and a few words :

“You know, my favorite thing about this day is that you’re home all day long, and I don’t have to miss you...”

As usual, your words grip his heart, and his arms tighten around you. Even after years of being together, you could always make his pulse race with only a few words. Sometimes just a look...

He doesn’t resist or look back, when you give his hand a pull and leave the bat cave.

Rare were the occasions Bruce would forget about his vigilante work. In fact, only one day a year, would he completely forget about it. Because he promised. And because it was a special day.

A day to celebrate the man he came to view as his father.

Alfred day.

1 am, in “Giovanni’s 24/7 gelato” shop.

The waiter of the place didn't even blink, as he served ice creams to a bunch of kids at 1 am, in the heart of Gotham. Used to it really. Nothing in this city was like any other place. Most people were night dwellers, even children.

Probably because, thanks to a certain group of vigilante, they all felt safer when the sun was down.

“So, how did it start exactly, this Alfred day ?”

Duke asks, after taking a full scoop of his favorite ice cream, curtesy of a certain Dick grayson.

You had told Duke, about a week prior to it, that he had to clear his schedule for this particular day but didn’t really explain what it was exactly. Just that it was to celebrate Alfred. Not giving much more context.

Dick smiles, and say :

“How did it start ? Haha, oh man, it’s quite the story.”

With an annoyed sigh, Damian says :

“Just out with it already Grayson, we know, you were the only one that knew them by then blahblahblah.”

“Do I sense a hint of jealousy, little bird ?”

Damian doesn’t answer, but plants his spoon a little bit more aggressively in his gelato. Ah yes, maybe he was a tiny bit jealous that Dick had the luck to have their parents all for himself, once upon a time...Maybe.

“Well anyway, legend has it that mom chose the date.”

Dick takes a dramatic pause, making the siblings who already heard the story (so everyone but Duke) roll their eyes. Their oldest brother had a flair for dramatic retelling of past events.

“A long long time ago, on this day, when I was only 8 and just came into the family, they got into a bad fight. When I was little, before Jason came in, they got on the verge of breaking up a few times. Even did really broke up once, worst fucking time of my life, feeling like I was losing another family (A/N : referencing this story : The break-up)...”

A shot pause, this time, not for dramatics, but because the memory was genuinely painful and Dick had to take a short break. He continues :

“So anyway, on this day, a long time ago, Mom discovered how vital Alfred was to this family. She said it’d been a day where she wanted to literally kill our father because he was so damn annoying, and overly brooding, and stupid – her words not mine- and that Alfred calmed her in just a few words. I don’t quite know what he told her, or what he told dad. All I know is that he told me that he wouldn’t let them break-up again over a stupid fight, and um, next thing I know, I’m avoiding the East wing for a few hours.”

“Oh...Oh no Dick gross !”

Dick chuckles, enjoying a bit too much messing with his little siblings.

“Anyway, mom decided that Alfred deserved a day, in the year, where we would do everything HE wants because without him, our family would crumble. It just sort of became a tradition. So from midnight right now, to midnight of next day, no vigilante business. And we spend the day all together with him.”

“That’s actually...a really sweet story ?”

“It really is Dukie, it really is.”

“Dukie ?”

“Ah sorry, you’re part of the family now, which earns you a nickname from me. Jaybird. Timbo. Dami. Cass or Cassie if I feel like being a particularly doting older brother. So...had to find one for you. It was between Dukie and Dukester so-”

“Dukie is fine.”

Everyone snickers as Duke rolls his eyes, and then he asks :

“So...What exactly are we gonna do ?”

“Oh, well it’s simple. It starts at 8 am when we arrive, and we kick off with...”

4 am, Alfred’s bedroom.

You open the door to Alfred’s room quietly, as you would sometimes to make sure your children sleep.

This time, you were checking to see if the butler did really go to bed. One of the point of Alfred day, was that he had to feel perfectly fine, and he never had a full night rest !

So if you had to make sure he did during that time, then you would.

Your children had came home a few hours ago, happy they had some time with their oldest brother. Dick had been away often lately, and they missed him...You knew they were gonna guilt trip him into buying them a snack.

You and Bruce had had some alone time before they came home, that you definitely took advantage of...But for now, you escaped your husbands grip to come and check on Alfred, making sure he was sound asleep.

And he was. Good. Perfect. He’d have a good night sleep. A full night of sleep.

Quietly, you left the room again, unaware that a smile slowly rose on the Butler’s face...

8:02 am, Alfred Day :

Bruce is the one that opens the front door for them. They have their own keys, of course...but they both forgot them, as usual.

They’d normally just climb through a window, or sneak into the backyard, knowing where all the security devices were (the back door was never closed because of this), but decided that for this day, they’d just ring the bell and come in the right way.

Without much surprise, Bruce answers the door. It’d either be him or you, during Alfred’s day. Or anyone that wasn’t Alfred really.

Dick and Jason move to remove their shoes (house rules, NO SHOES inside) and coats, while Bruce looks at them, waiting for them so they can all walk back to the kitchen.

Jason is the fastest, and there’s this embarrassed silence between the three of them. Bruce smiles awkwardly at Jason, who looks away as soon as their eyes meet. With a “tt” very typical of his little brother, Jason says :

“Don’t misunderstand this, I’m here for Alfred. And...For mom.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Yes.”

Silence. Awkward, as Dick takes way too long to untie his shoes, and pretend he’s not hearing anything.

Bruce knows what he’s doing. He knows his oldest son is trying to give him some more time “alone” with Jason. But he’s not really sure what to say...

“I’m um...I’m glad you came.”

Good. That was good. Keep going on that path Bruce, that’s actually-

“Yeah, whatever. I’m going ahead, you know the way Dick.”

Damn. Almost there. Almost there with an actual moment between them two. Dick sighs, and puts a hand on his father’s shoulder.

“He’ll come around.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, he exhales slowly and nods, not very convinced...But today was not a day to dwell on the bad. Jason and him would make this work, if only for today.

Because today was Alfred’s day.

8h30 am, the Kitchen.

The butler came down in the kitchen, well rested and pleased to be greeted by his entire family. Your smiles already made his day perfect, and if “Alfred Day” was done in this instant, he’d still be happy.

“Sit down Pennyworth, we have made breakfast for you ! Well...Mom and father did...but we helped ! I was in charge of making tea ! And I think you will appreciate the way I brewed it. I followed an ancient Japanese recipe, and I reckon an aficionado like yourself will appreciate it.”

Damian bloomed when he was with his family. To people who didn’t know him as well as his siblings and parents, he could seem like a petulant and arrogant child, but he was the opposite of that.

He was insecure, and unsure. Scared of being left alone. And so to overcompensate all the fear instilled in him by years of abuse from his “grandfather”, the infamous Ras Al’Ghul, Damian could be quite a little jerk sometimes.

But when he was with his family...He opened up. He smiled. And he spend hours trying to brew the perfect cup of tea for the grandfather he actually chose to have.

“Bruce made your favorite Alf’, didn’t do half a bad job either -you smile at your husband, and give him a quick peck, which have the famous result of making your children make their best “ew” face-. You taught him well.”

You say, smiling widely at the butler.

It’s true, Alfred did teach Bruce how to cook really well. People often had the misconception the billionaire was bad at housework, which was wrong of course.

When his parents were alive, they’d insist he still had chores to do, so he wouldn’t be too spoiled. And when Alfred raised him, he taught him as much as he could so that the boy could hold his own.

Bruce was a great cook (you could definitely attest to that, what with him cooking your favorite meals on date nights and all). And he always made Alfred’s perfect breakfast for his special day.

“Jason and I just arrived so we didn’t really participate, but we picked up your favorite cake so it counts right ?”

Dick says, a wide smile on his face. Oh master Dick, Alfred blessed the day this little boy walked in their lives.

He wasn’t so little anymore, but he was always such a joy to have over. Even when he had his tantrum as a youngster (and now sometimes too, although he became better in controlling his burst of anger), Alfred couldn't help but love that child.

The butler turned to Jason, who shyly smiled at him and...Alfred’s heart was full.

“I am very happy to see you in this house, Master Jason.”

He said, as he sits around the kitchen table. Jason’s cheek tints slightly of red, as they always do when he’s a bit embarrassed and overwhelmed.

Jason was such a kind and sensitive child. He never quite got used to compliments, having been used to abuse and hate, and he would always blush under them. Alfred was glad to see that, even after the horror Jason went through, small things could still make his cheek turn rosy...

Jason sat down at the table, looking happier than he had in ages.

“For you.”

Cassandra said, settling in front of him a plate full of food, while Damian put the the cup of tea down.

Sweet little Cassandra. It was always a pleasure to hear her talk. Poor little thing was never taught love, or even how to talk...Having you in her life greatly helped. Having a family, greatly helped.

She still didn’t talk very often, but when she did, all of her words truly counted. She laid a small kiss on Alfred’s forehead, to bid him good morning, and went to sit in her usual spot, right between you and Damian.

“You will be happy to know, Alfred, that all of our electronic devices have been off since midnight last night ! Yes, even mine. Promise !”

Tim exclaims, smiling at him.

Tim was the only one out of all of Bruce’s children to have entered this life willingly. The only one that came knocking at their door, just really wanting to help.

Unfortunately, him too lost his parents over time (although they weren’t particularly great ones)...But the first impulse the boy had, was that he just loved Batman and wanted to give a hand !

Tim was selfless, maybe a little too much, and often worried you to death. He would get wrapped up in his projects even more than his father, and needed a constant reminder to take care of himself...task that you, Bruce, Alfred and his siblings would share gladly. He would give back anyway, working his ass off and putting his own life on the line for them any hour of the day...

At the furthest side of the table from him, sat Duke.

This was his first “Alfred Day”, and he was looking at things curiously, nonetheless happy to be here.

Young Duke’s situation was a little special. His parents were still alive, and he still hoped they’d find a cure for their madness. Because of this, the boy would often distance himself on purpose from some family events, finding it hard to find his own place.

This was one reason he didn’t wear the Robin mantel for long, and almost immediately went to be The Signal. It didn’t help either, that he was the only metahuman.

And yet...Yet as the days went by, Duke felt more and more at home at the Manor, and would more and more hang out with everyone. More and more felt like he was truly part of the family, now.

Of course, him moving to Wayne Manor was all very recent, and he needed time. Time that everyone was giving him willingly and gladly. Time to adjust and find his place.

But here, sitting around the kitchen table bustling with activity and laughter, Duke felt like...he felt like this Alfred Day brought him one step closer to truly be a part of it all. After all, to him too, the butler had been nothing but great.

Alfred had that talent, to congregate everyone around him...

You felt happy, there, sitting amongst your children, your love, and the man you came to consider your father.

Alfred had a good feeling, when he first met you. He knew. He knew you’d be the one to “tame” the bat, to not take his shit when he was being a jerk, and to give him unconditional love.

“Unconditional”.

It was important, to be in a relationship with a man like Bruce Wayne.

But oh. Oh he was giving you back every bits of love you ever gave him, times a hundred. He let you in in his world, and had no intention of ever letting you go.

Breakfast went by fast, as everyone talked away, and enjoyed each others company.

It was very rare, nowadays, that everyone could be in the same place. At least one of them would be busy normally. But on this day...on this day they surely made sure they would be free.

And so here they were, having breakfast altogether, happy.

If only people from the outside could see this scene; If only.

Then they’d know, just like Alfred knew, that this family was the strongest, tightest that ever existed, and that there was nothing but love between all of them.

************

11 am, the theater.

Before the first “Alfred Day” happened, Wayne Manor did not have a “theater”.

It had a “Ballroom number 3″.

It was your idea, to turn it into a small theater, so that Alfred could perform for everyone.

Over the years, you had realized that Alfred was actually a very talented actor. After all, he filled in Batman’s shoes many times, to pretend that Bruce couldn’t possibly be him. And he might’ve use his dramatic talent to convince you and the rest of your family to do what he wanted you to do...

Clever man.

On Alfred Day, the first activity, after breakfast, would be to take part in a monologue of his. Usually shakespearian. But sometimes he’d come up with small surprises. He once recited the “heaven” part of the Divine Comedy by Dante, because he knew you loved that poem.

It was absolutely brilliant, and you almost wished he had pursued an acting career instead of becoming the Wayne’s butler...but then, you would’ve never met him.

By 11 am, breakfast would usually be done and it was time for a performance of a year. By that time, Barbara and Stephanie would’ve join.

They didn’t live in the Manor, but they were close friend of the family. Friends that definitely knew how precious Alfred was to everyone.

This year, Alfred decided to entertain you with a series of short monologues taken from a wide array of material, from Shakespeare to movies. It was fascinating. They all had their snacks as if they were at the movie theater, and were captivated by his performance.

For Alfred, it was a way to relive his youth, working in London’s east end’s theaters. And to perform his hobby in front of a live audience.

So sure, maybe said live audience might’ve been a bit biased towards him, but he knew their applause and praises were genuine.

************

1 pm, East Wing living room.

Lunch was always skipped, as you snacked too much during Alfred’s performance, and he was never hungry after he acted.

You’d directly skipped to Alfred’s compliment session.

He both loved and hated this time. Loved it because it was a treat to see he positively impacted his family. Hated it because it was never comfortable to just hear people compliment you The moment they gave him a cherished memory they shared with him...

Each year, one by one, they would tell him something he did for them that really was important to them.

It was custom that the youngest would start. So Damian stood up, and said :

“My memory this year, is one that happened not long after I came to live in Wayne Manor. I had just gotten into a fight with Tim, and been mean to mom as she tried to talk to me about it...I felt terrible. I felt like I would never be someone good. Pennyworth came in my room, ignoring me when I told him to get away from me. He settled some cookies for me, and told me a story of my father when he was young. Of how stubborn he used to be, and how sometimes, he’d say very hurtful things he didn’t mean...Alfred explained to me that it was normal to feel angry, when we’re hurt. That it was ok to not always be on our best behavior. That the people who love us will understand, and do understand. That they’ll still be there if they really care. Then he left, and I went to apologize to my mom. And she was there. I also apologized to Tim, and him too, was there...”

Damian sat back down, avoiding everyone’s eyes, as he felt too overwhelmed with feelings. You threw an arm around his shoulder, and he instantly hid his face in your own shoulder, acting like a little scared kitten who’d hide under his mom.

It melted everyone’s heart, but nobody would say anything of course. This was between Damian and Alfred.

It was Duke’s turn, and he was a little nervous, as it was his first time :

“Mine is...Well...It’s going to sound so silly, after Damian’s heartfelt story, but one of my best memory with you Alfred, is when I first put The Signal mantel, and immediately hurt myself that night. I came back to the bat cave early, feeling shameful I couldn’t finish my patrol. You took care of my wound, and simply reassured me. It was just...soothing. I didn’t feel bad, as you stitched me up and calmed me down. I felt at peace, for the first time since my parents went mad...I can’t quite remember what you told me, as you just talked about random things, to calm me down. And it worked. As silly as it can sound, it worked. And that’s um...That’s when I started to feel good, here. Ok. That’s all.”

Duke sat back down too, hoping Tim would start speaking soon. Thankfully, he did.

“The memory I chose to share today, is one that is rather recent. I was struggling with some...self-worth issues. I felt like I could never fill dad’s shoes. Or Dick’s. Or Jason’s. Or anyone’s. I felt like I was trash. Like I was wasting away. I felt anxiety eating me up, and I was too scared to talk to anyone about it. Even to you, mom. I knew you’d find the right words, but I was just too scared you’d be worried about me. I know you worry a lot. So I didn’t say anything. Alfred walked in on me having a panic attack...and he helped me fight it. Then he scolded me because I didn’t tell anyone anything, and that it was a bad habit to always take all the burden on my shoulders. He then brewed me some tea, and talked about my favorite TV show with me to take my mind off of things...”

Tim smiled at Alfred, and sat down. You reached for him, and squeezed his hand, making him understand you too, were there. And you worried about all of them all the time anyway so, ya know.

It was Cass’ turn now. Cass always had some interactive things, because she never spoke too long. She held up some drawings she had made (with the help of Damian). It represented her at a ballet recital (to which you all went by the way, and which was amazing. Cass was a talented little star). She gave the small comics to Alfred, took a deep breath, and said :

“Thank you for helping me work on my dance, even when you were busy. You are a good teacher. For everything, from dance to how to make a perfect loaf of bread. I love your bread. I love your dance lesson. I love eating bread after our lessons. I love you more than bread. Even the sandwiches mom make with your bread and my favorite homemade jam.”

She then did a few ballet dance move, and sat down again, holding her knees with her arms, and breathing deeply. It was still a difficult exercice for her, to speak. And to convey her feelings through words. It was always difficult, and quite an exploit that she said that much.

Alfred smiled at her, before turning to Jason.

“I’ll never forget the day you yelled at Bruce because he tied me up after I stole the batmobile’s tires. How livid you were, and how you threatened him to tell everything to mom. How he instantly looked scared at the idea of her being angry, and how you made him realize he went too far. How you were there, every step of my way adapting to life in a mansion, after living in the streets. But yes, above all, I’ll never forget the day someone stood for me for the first time, when you yelled at da-Bruce. When you yelled at Bruce for me.”

He almost said “dad”. And that alone, was making Alfred’s heart happy. It was proof there still was some hope to salvage their relationship...

“Ok, well I’ll be quicker than everyone else. And just say : you’re the best grandfather I could ever ask for.”

With Dick, there was only two solutions. He would either go into a lengthy reenactment of a very specific event, or throw affirmations like that that would make Alfred feel tears coming to his eyes.

Today, Dick decided on a short and sweet version, and it fitted perfectly.

It was now your turn :

“Every year, I’m reminded how vital you are to this family. And every year, it is tough to chose just one memory I love about you. I always have to think, because there’s so many. But I think this year, I will choose that time I said “yes” to Bruce after refusing his marriage proposal three times, and you screamed in happiness, through your broom across the room, and ran to hug me. It was so out of character for you, it makes me happy just to think about it. But I mean, I can understand the excitement...I was pretty content myself.”

You smile, looking at your love, and he rolls his eyes at you, before smiling too. Of this pure smile he only shows you. And then he turns to Alfred, and tells him :

“You made the loss of my parents bearable. Without you, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I’d probably turn...very dark.”

There was a small silence.

Bruce’s speech was always short and to the point.

And every time they were all done talking, Alfred would find himself with tears in his eyes. With those last few words from his son, this time didn’t escape the rule, and he found himself dabbing at the corner of his eyes.

Damian’s next word released the emotional atmosphere as he looked at his father and said :

“Tt, show off.”

Everyone bursted in laughter, and this great day continued on...

************

4 pm, interlude.

This was Alfred’s few hours of utter peace. Everyone would leave him alone, and he could relax doing something he liked to do (usually reading or something of the sort) while not worrying about anyone.

You’d give him space. It was very rare, for Alfred to be all alone with his thoughts, thoughts that he was forced to NOT have about his family.

It was even rarer that he wouldn’t think about Bruce or you, or his “grandkids”. So in this day, when he knew none of them were doing anything dangerous, he took full advantage of it to relax his mind.

In the meantime, you’d watch a film or two.

Damian and Tim were in the process of choosing when Duke turned to Bruce, and a smirk on his face asked :

“Soooo…I heard Alfred Day exists because you annoyed (Y/N) ? »

Bruce glares at Duke, ah he never quite likes to remember why Alfred Day exists…But before he can answer, you enter the room (you went to get some snacks for the movies) and exclaim :

“Don’t let Dick downplay how truly unsufferable he was that day ! Dick always manages to forgive his dad, and make things less worst than they are. It’s a talent really. Annoying doesn’t even cover how awful he was. He had one of those « dark days », decided he should break up with me for my own safety out of literally nowhere, yelled at baby Dick, was mean to Alfred saying he could fire him…I swear I could’ve slapped him.”

“You tried.”

“And if Alfred hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve succeeded. Anyway. Yes. You see, Bruce and I almost broke up that day because he was being really stupid, and Alfred...salvaged everything.”

“I was being stupid indeed...I almost lost...I...”

Sometimes, when he would remind himself of that day he almost went too far and truly drove you away, Bruce would feel almost like an anxiety attack coming over him. Because if he had lost you, and had continue on the path he was taking with Dick...Well he wouldn’t have had that second shot at having a family.

And it was enough of a frightening thought to be overwhelmed with anxiety.

“To be honest, I also was quite stupid. I can be stubborn too, sometimes. And there were time, at the beginning, where I wouldn’t try to be in your place...”

You say, letting soothing fingers run through his hair, a motion you knew always relaxed him. Bruce instantly calmed down, as your kids made some disgusted faces at your closeness, and the incident was over.

It was good, though, that Duke asked. First because it was actually pretty funny to think of the fearless Batman getting his ass kicked by his wife...but also because it was a good reminder to him of what he almost lost, and who he used to be.

Alfred saved him.

You saved him.

His children saved him.

And now, he could appreciate a relaxing movie time with all of you (minus Alfred, who was in his room, probably devouring the cake you got him (because yes, that cake was for him and him only), finally relaxed).

The movie chosen, everyone took their usual spot on the massive couch, that Bruce had ordered specifically so that his big family could all fit on.

At one point, both you and Bruce drifted off to sleep, in each others’ arms, and barely noticed your kids placing a blanket on you, rolling their eyes at how teeth rotting sweet you two were.

6 pm, a walk through the park.

Alfred loved Wayne Manor’s gardens.

And he loved even more peacefully walk through them with his family.

This was the time you were always reminded how massive the “backyard” was, when you’d go through acres of it.

The kids would play soccer, baseball, football, or anything really. Alfred would often join. He was actually very athletic, and the kids would fight to have him on their team.

You and Bruce would take part in it too, and your children would always make sure you’d be in the same team. Sure, sometimes you’d stop playing to smooch each others, like two damn teenagers...BUT, having you both on the same team would avoid triggering your crazy competitive minds.

For some reason, whenever you had to play against each others, you’d both get very ruthless and petty, and it would often time get annoying (for real, you were forbidden to play UNO since a long time by then).

You’d all spend some times outside, no matter the weather, enjoying a normal family outing.

Alfred loved this time of the day.

Because he loved the gardens, but most of all, he loved seeing his family being happy and together...

9:30 pm, the dinner.

Dinner was entirely prepared by you, and Alfred only had to come at the table and wait.

By then, you had a perfect system that made it so the meal was prepped efficiently. It was Alfred’s favorite, of course.

The table would be filled with all his favorite meals, prepared mainly by Bruce with you guys’ help.

Your kids would pretend to be waiter in a fancy restaurant, and exaggerate everything, which was very funny.

And you’d all share a meal, something that was quite rare, in this day and age.

In fact, you were pretty sure that your entire family being reunited for a dinner happened max three times a year. For the holiday season, for Alfred Day, and for Batman day (you just thought it was funny to celebrate it).

This was just a time to catch up, and to be together.

Alfred would ask countless questions to everyone, and everyone would be polite and listen. It’d just be so nice, and relaxing...

11:30 pm, almost the end.

The day would end in the batcave, with everyone enjoying each others’ presence for a few more minute before you’d go back to a “normal” life.

You’d talk about your favorite moment of the day, and how you always really liked “Alfred day”.

And then it’d be over. Alfred would retake his butler position, and the Batman would prowl the streets of Gotham once more.

You’d be their home support again, working the computer often, and you-

Ah. Yes. But not yet.

There were still a few minutes. And it sounded like the perfect time for you to finally talk about a certain news...

You see, Alfred was the one you went to to vent. You loved your family with all your heart... But anyone knowing them just à little bit knew they could be à handful. And Alfred, he was always there.

So it just seemed fitted for you, that you’d announce this news on that day. While everyone was around, and celebrating Alfred’s existence.

Because what you were about to say, was one of Alfred’s dearest hope...

12:28 pm, 2 minutes before the end.

You waited the very last minute, because you thought the effect would be even better.

And as your husband and kids were ready to leave, you said :

“Oh wait, I have one last thing to say on this very special day !”

They all stopped, and turned around, looking at you. You smiled. Nervous, but happy. You knew that you and Bruce wanted this anyway, so it would be fine. And you knew your kids...your kids would be happy. For sure.

But Alfred. Alfred would be over the moon. And so, without further ado, you said :

“I’m pregnant !”

Bruce’s eyes went wide, and his mouth opened dumbly. He froze on the spot, before smiling widely and starting to laugh stupidly. His first reaction was to go to Alfred, which you were expecting.

Your children all reacted at the same time, rushing you like a wave of noise and excited screams and...pfiouh they could be overwhelming.

Alfred was indeed over the moon.

And he was the one calming your children, tearing them off of you so he could hug you, and give you some space, too.

Because that’s what Alfred did. Take care of you. Of his family.

And Alfred day, this year, ended with him looking at you and Bruce hugging tightly, overjoyed by the news of a future new little addition to the family.

Up until next year, and this future baby’s first Alfred day...

_________________________________________________

Annnnd it’s 9:12 am, kept my promise to post something “today” haha. Probably not the best time to post. Buuuut...well, another sleepless night (or early morning, all about perspective really haha) of writing. I’m definitely back :). I hope you liked this story, I’m a little nervous after being gone for so long, I feel like I don’t know how to write anymore, and this is all very...mmmmbadhgezhe. I still do hope you liked it a little bit.

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3.

1K notes · View notes

catxsnow · 5 years ago

Text

TRUTH BE TOLD D.G & J.T.

Request: Alright homeslice hear me out: dick x reader x jason love triangle. And reader is so oblivious and doesn't realize it. One night they're fighting someone and reader gets hit with like a love/truth spell and BAM angst and fluff galore

Warning: Fluff, Angst, swears

A/N: I hate love triangles but I made an exception just this once. I’m sorry about this ending.

Also if you don’t know, Klarion is a bratty Witch Boy. Pretty much all you need to know for this lol. Also I love Zatanna, okay I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST HER it was just for the plot.

GIF not mine

Word count: 4.2k

Damian was tired. He was tired of seeing his brothers so ridiculously pine over you. First off, you were far too beautiful to stoop as low as them. Secondly, they continuously tried to gain your attention that has made them look like narcissistic idiots. Whether it was trying to show of their muscles with some sort of cool move or prove their intellect, they tried everything.

You didn't work with Batman full time until moving to Gotham. It was the occasional team up that got Dick and Jason absolutely infatuated with you. When they heard that you were moving to Gotham for good? Well, they were in the least to say, very, very excited. Even with Dick in Bludhaven most the time and Jason off fighting around the world, it was a hell of a lot easier to see you when they came home.

Much like Bruce and his family, you were just human. No powers, no magic, just someone who wants to see the world a better place. Maybe that was the reason that Batman trusted you so easily - well as much as he trusted anyone. Being human meant that you had weaknesses, a lot of them.

One of those weaknesses included being completely oblivious to people's feelings about you. Most of your life you were cut off from emotions. If you wanted to do a good job of cleaning up cities from crime, you couldn't be distracted by caring for others. Year after year you told yourself it was just part of the job.

Until you moved to Gotham. Becoming part of the Bat-team made you realize that it was okay to let people in, even just a little bit. If the great Batman himself cared for a select few of people, why couldn't you? Damian had become the annoying little brother to you, Tim as well. It was with Jason and Dick where things became more complicated.

The two men had obvious feelings for you - everyone was aware about it except for you. They were allured by your skills, beauty, talents, and genuine selflessness. Night after night they had an endless war of trying to see who you would choose. You hadn't noticed either of their attempts at this, to you they were just being friendly.

This was why Damian was tired of it. You didn't even know about their feelings and yet they still fought about it when you weren't around. Jason and Dick would yell at each other, trying to prove who deserved you more. Bruce and Alfred had to pull them apart before things got escalated nearly every time.

It had been going on for years, and even though they both had been in and out of relationships over the years, it seemed that the end goal was always you.

"I'm getting really fucking sick of this guy!"

It was supposed to be an easy mission, in and out before anyone could even see you. Of course, things had to go wrong. Klarion the Witch Boy had been hiding within the shadows and the second that he laid eyes on you, all hell broke loose.

Objects were thrown in your direction constantly and it was becoming a struggle to continue to dodge them all. There was no way that you could get a clear shot on him with his force field protecting him and his stupid cat. No matter how many explosives and sharp objects you threw his way, there was no chance of getting to him.

It was against your wish that you had to call in for back up. After being on your own for this mission, you were quick to realize that Klarion was far too powerful for you to take down on your own. Bruce and Damian arrived as fast as they could to help you, the others were unfortunately busy with missions and couldn't come to you even if they wished to.

Their entrance had distracted you for only a sliver of a second, but that time was all Klarion needed to cast the first spell he could think of off the top of his head. A red blast protruded from the palm of his hand and went straight towards you. It hit your right in the chest and the force of it pushed you painfully into the nearest wall.

Your head smacked against the cement and black spots covered your vision because of it. As you tried to push yourself up off the ground, you could see Klarion getting away. He wasn't prepared for a fight against Batman himself. Your arms collapsed from below you and you didn't have the energy to even sit up.

The last thing you saw was Robin running towards you with worry on his face.

You woke up to bright lights. The small med bay that Bruce had in the cave was always lit up and each time you were stuck there you always wished he'd get different lights that didn't hurt to look at. The groan that you admitted while sitting up caught the attention of those who had stuck around for you to wake up.

Jason, Dick, and Damian were all there waiting for you to recover from the spell that Klarion had cast upon you. They were still unsure what he had done to you, but if you didn't seem to be in any danger from it, at least nothing that would be permanent. They wouldn't know until you woke up.

The three boys hovered over you, watching your every movement. "The last thing someone wants to see waking up is your ugly faces," you joked. The three of them rolled their eyes nearly in sync as they gave you some space. "What happened?"

"Klarion hit you with a spell," Damian informed you. "How do you feel?"

"My headache feels worse than the time that I showed up hungover for patrol with Bruce. Also, I’ve got the weirdest craving for a PB and J," You blurted out. Your eyes were wide at your answer - you definitely didn't mean to say that out loud. "What the fuck. I didn't mean to say that. What did that Witch Rat do to me?"

"We don't know," Jason answered. He glanced between you and Dick. Both of them wanted to hold you in their arms, to make sure that you were safe with them. Neither of them made a move to do so, not when they didn't know what was wrong with you. "Do you feel any different?"

You shook your head. You felt fine. Your body wasn't that sore and you didn't feel sick in any sort of way. Hopefully, his spell was nothing but a distraction to get out of there and not something that would leave you suffering for the rest of your life.

"Maybe we should call Zatanna, she might be able to figure out what he did to you. What do you think?" Dick offered. If anyone could figure out a magic spell, it would be her. Your thoughts immediately went to the time that she and Dick had briefly dated and your mind went sour.

"Zatanna was never good enough for you Dick, you always deserved better than her. She's a liar, and a sneak," you said aloud. This time, your hands physically covered over your mouth from what had just come out of it. There was no way that you intended to say that out loud.

"Whoa, (Y/N)," Jason held his hands up in defense. You were never one to be snippy with other people. There were the time that you got annoyed and flipped on them, but never behind their backs like this. What the hell was going on with you? "Tell us how you really fell," he continued to joke around.

"I feel like sometimes I meant to be alone in this life. That I'll never be good enough to have someone love me because of the things that I've done, the people I've killed. It's come to the point where I don't feel like I deserve to wear this suit because of how aggressive I've become while in it."

You one again held your palm of your mouth. Where did this come from? Why did you just reveal your darkest insecurities to them? Insecurities that you could barely admit to yourself, much less someone else. Even if you did trust these boys with your life, you didn't always trust them with your feelings.

"What the fuck!" you screeched. Whatever Klarion had done to you, it was taking effect. You would never say anything like this, everyone knew that. You were reserved when it came to any emotions, maybe just as bad as Bruce himself. The surprised look on the boy's face had made you feel even more embarrassed for what you said.

The shock quickly turned to pity. They had no idea that you felt that way about yourself. Dick and Jason both wanted nothing more than to just tell you how they felt, to assure you that you were worthy of love. They might not have had the cleanest slates either, but you still deserved to have someone love you.

"Klarion put a truth spell on you," Bruce had joined the four of you. You hadn't even noticed him arrive and wondered how much of that he had heard. Bruce knew that you had killed before, but he also knew how it tore you up at night and that it wasn't something that you were proud of. "You're lucky he didn't kill you."

"Because you think I can't do things on my own, don't you?" You questioned with hostility in your voice. "I didn't mean that. Yes I did. Bruce! Fix this!" You had a turmoil within you. No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself from blurting out how you truly felt, you couldn't do it.

Bruce said nothing else, but nodded once before leaving. As soon as his father left, Damian gained a bit of an evil look in his eyes. Before you could even try to stop him, he had already started talking. Truth spell that you couldn’t resist answering? He was going to have a lot of fun with that.

"Did you eat the last slice of cake and blame it on Jason?" Damian asked. There was no way that he wasn't going to take advantage of this situation with you, but he wanted to start off with easy questions to see how powerful this spell really was. You should have known that he was going to do this.

The list of questions that any of them could ask you was horrendously long. The more you thought about it, the more you really did have to hide from them. You were pretty secretive and without being able to hold back the truth, they could find out everything from you if they wanted to.

"Yes," you told them. Jason's gained a look of hurt at your words. "Damian was holding a knife! What else was I supposed to say. He scares me." Damian looked content with your truth about him.

"When I lost my helmet a month ago, was it you that took it?" Jason narrowed his eyes. It had disappeared only for a day. When he checked the next time, it was in the exact same spot that he left it. For a while, he assumed that he had just been too sleep deprived but the more he thought about it, the more he knew that someone had to have taken it.

"Yes," You told him. "I wanted to see what the tech was like but then I kind of was having fun and didn't want to take it off. I also stole your sweater when I went over too, it's still in my room but I don't want to give it back. And I took the left overs in your fridge and left the note so you would think it was Roy."

Jason scoffed and shook his head at your answer. He wasn't expecting you to admit so much to one question but he was glad that he asked. The things he was dying to ask you, he knew that he couldn't with everyone else there as well. He had to restrain himself from asking, the answers that were just at the ready for him were so tempting.

"Why does Alfred the cat hate you?" Damian leaned his body closer to you. You felt intimidated under his stare but no matter how hard you bit your tongue you couldn't stop yourself from answering again.

"He wouldn't leave me alone so I threw him in the water fountain in the garden."

Dick and Jason couldn't help but laugh at that one. Damian looked furious at your answer but you had paid for your mistake. Cat scratched lined your arms for the next week.

“Do you sleep naked?” Jason raised an eyebrow. The questions were surely going to get a lot more personal and if they weren’t surrounding you, you already would have made your escape. Unfortunately, you felt too weak to push them away and there was no way you could outrun them.

“Sometimes,” you answered. The truth spell didn’t seem to be quite content enough with that answer and made you spew out more unforgettable words. “Yes, all the time.”

"Wait, wait," Dick stopped his brothers as they both opened their mouths to ask even more questions. Though there was so much that he wanted to ask you, he knew that it was wrong to do so. "This is mean, we can't take advantage of (Y/N) like this. She has the right to her own privacy."

"Thanks, Dick," you half smiled at him. You appreciated that someone stepped up to stop anything from happening that you would regret.

"But," Dick continued. Your eyes widened at what he was going to say next. You were sure that they could hear the rise in your heart rate and the see the beads of sweat form on your forehead. being unable to hide what you wanted to say made you more scared than half the missions ever did.

Dick wanted nothing more than to ask you the question they had all been thinking: Jason or Dick? He wanted to know once and for all who it was that you cared for more and which one of them had a real chance with you. This back and forth arguing with Jason was tiring him out. He didn't, it didn't seem right to ask you this question against your will.

"You hooked up with Roy when we were part of the Teen Titans didn't you?"

"After every mission."

Between Damian's disgusted face at you, along with Jason wondering how Roy ever managed to hook up with you, and Dick's disappointment, you could tell that this was not the answer that they were wanting to hear. They wanted to know why you had hooked up with Roy rather than either of them.

Truth was, they just never asked.

It had been days and the spell still hadn't worn off. Everyone in the manor kept forgetting about your truthfulness. It was the simple, mundane questions that they didn't expect you to be so open about.

How was your sleep? Who forgot to make coffee? Why is there no milk left? You had openly admitted to them that you were on your period and would much rather take a bullet to the chest than go through this every month.

The worst time had to be when Steph asked about her outfit. She simply wanted another woman's opinion and had completely forgot about your open honesty. After that morning she vowed never to ask about an outfit from you ever again. You felt terrible for saying such awful things to her.

Each question got a very snippy, very truthful answer which you felt bad about. Thankfully, no one teased you anymore about asking ridiculous questions about yourself that you weren't wanting to share. Bruce had scolded his kids for being rude to you - you were a guest in their home until all this was over.

Since you were staying there, that also meant that Dick and Jason had decided to hang around as well. Although you were worried they were still going to ask you certain questions, you were glad to have their company. It had been a while since you had spent time with them outside of missions.

The two heroes were starting to lose their patience with each other. Jason wanted to ask you how you felt about them, it was the perfect time in his eyes to ask. There was no way that you could lie about your feelings and they would finally know the truth after all these years. Whoever you picked, would put an end to this war.

Dick on the other hand, saw this as too much of an invasion to your privacy. If you were going to pick one of them you either would have said something already, or weren't ready to admit it. Forcing you to reveal your feelings seemed like something you would hold against them forever.

Which had brought on another fight between the men. They yelling had caught your attention from your room, but it was the loud crash that followed that made you run downstairs to see what the fuss was about.

Damian stood between Jason and Dick, both of which had a vicious look in their eyes. If there was nothing blocking them, you were sure that they would be right in the middle of a fist fight. Damian looked relieved to see you standing there.

"I'm tired of this useless nonsense," Damian scowled. "(L/N), if you were going to date either of them, which on of these imbeciles would you choose?"

That was a question you had been dreading to be asked. Both men played an important role in your life. They were your best friends, your family. Each of them supported you in their own ways and you would always be thankful for everything that that have done for you. But having to pick a favourite? You didn't want to have to do that.

Jason was the kind of person that would stand up for you no matter what. After everything that he went through with Bruce, he knew that he could be a hardass at times. Jason protected you from things that you didn't even realize you needed protecting from. He kept you sane in this crazy world that you lived in.

Dick managed to always brighten your day on the worst lows you had. He had his ups and down in life and he knew how hard it was to get out of those valleys just by yourself. Without him, you weren't sure what kind of endless pit of self-destruction you would be in. He was there for you when you needed him most.

"I..." you stuttered over your words. These past few days, you hadn't had the choice to think about what you wanted to say. Whatever you felt deep within your heart and mind was the only option that you were allowed to say out loud. Now, you felt a relief in your chest, the ability to say whatever you so choose, not the deep, hidden truth within.

"I don't have to answer that," you told the three of them. Jason and Dick had egarely been waiting for your answer, it was all that they wanted to know within the past few years. Who would you pick? You did you think would treat you better. The questions had been on the tip of their tongues all week and it was finally Damian who had caved. "I think the spell's worn off."

"What?" All three of them nearly screeched. This was the one question that they had been dying to ask you and now that they finally did it, they would never get the real truth out of you. They had missed their shot.

"No, there's no way," Dick argued. He looked panicked, Damian had admitted that the two fought over you and now that they got the chance to see what your choice really was, it was taken right from the palm of their hands. "What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you out on patrol?"

The tightness in your chest that you felt when you had been asked questions didn't appear. You didn't feel the need to blurt anything out either. The spell that Klarion cast on you was finally out of your system, and just in time too. You didn't want to know what would have happened if you had answered that question.

Truth be told, you didn't even know the answer.

You shrugged to answer Dick's question - of course you could remember the most embarrassing things that happened to you, it was engraved in your mind for the rest of your life. Without another word, you grabbed your mug of coffee and headed over to the three of them. You kissed the top of Damian's head - to which he grumbled about it.

Damian left the three of you - there was no way that he wanted to be part of whatever was going to happen next.

"(Y/N)..." Jason trailed off. He didn't even know what he wanted to tell you. He wanted to be honest, to tell you that he loved you since the day that you had told him off. He loved the way that you protected everyone no matter the cost but still ruthless against your foes. He loved everything about you.

How was he supposed to compete with someone like Dick? The golden child. Mr. Perfect. There was no way that you would ever pick him over Dick, so why did he keep getting his hopes up? Why had he fought for so many years for your affection? That was what love was all about, he just didn't know it.

"How long has this been going on?" You asked. For years, you had no idea that they had feelings for you. Dick was the biggest flirt you knew, you had just gotten used to it. Jason was always kind to you, you assumed that he was just being the protective friend over you. All these years you were oblivious to how they felt.

"Years," Dick answered briefly. Just like Jason, he wanted to tell you his true feelings. There was nothing more that he wanted than for you to pick him. But how was he supposed to compete with someone like Jason? You were more like his younger brother than you were ever like him, that was how he assumed that you guys got along so well.

Jason was always the person that you leaned on when things were getting rough. He knew how to make you feel better about the terrible things you had done because he had done just the same. Dick was never able to fully understand the difficulties that you went through, not like Jason. After all these years, why did he keep trying?

You sighed, followed by rubbing a hand down your face. That wasn't the answer that you wanted to hear. After knowing them for half your life, you felt like an idiot for not knowing that they were feeling this way. The answer that you gave them about Roy, their reaction to it, it finally made sense. They weren't disgusted, they were disappointed that it wasn't them.

Back then, when you felt like your heart couldn't be broken and that you would never break someone else's, you would have happily had put either of them in Roy's place. Now? Now, the three of you were adults, vulnerable to heartache and mistrust. You were glad that neither of them had gotten the chance.

"I would take a bullet for either of you - I have taken one," You sat down on one of the stools that sat at the kitchen island. Both of them stood before you, waiting for you answer. The anxiety in the room had never been so high before and for the first time in your life, you felt uncomfortable under their gaze.

"And you both know that I care about you, a lot. That's something that's never going to change," you continued on. "There is no one that I trust more with my life than the two of you... But I don't think I could ever trust either of you with my heart. I'm sorry."

You stood up from your spot on the chair. The heartbroken look on their faces nearly broke you. You didn't want either of them to hurt from your answer. The last last thing that you ever wanted to do was hurt them. You loved them both, it was just never the way that they wanted to be loved by you.

With as much delicacy as you could muster through your shaking hands and wobbling chin, you placed a kiss on each of their cheeks. The men leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce of you that they could get.

"You know that I love you both," You spoke once more just before exiting the room. Your back was facing them, turning around meant that you would have to put on a brave face and that wasn't something you were sure you were capable of. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks - whatever friendship you shared with them, it was going to be different now.

You were all adults, something like this shouldn’t change a friendship that had been lasting for years. Yet, if they had been arguing over you since they were young, you were sure that their teenage mentality of this whole situation would overpower their adult intuition.

"You deserve better than me, you deserve someone that's going to love you unconditionally. I want you both to be happy, without me."

Truth was, they never would be.

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years ago

Text

Right Hand Man (Loyal to the End) Pt. 4

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You were like Talia’s daughter. The only thing was that you weren’t and instead, you had grown up in the foster care system and at a young age were taken by and personally trained by Talia. Along the way, you meet Damian and the two of you start to work side by side and eventually, after some time become closer and closer. However, when disaster in the league strikes, you face balancing an old, forgotten life as a normal child and the burden of right hand to the demon heir.

Note: I know that this is long and that there are a good number of time skips, but I didn’t want to make this into a series and just wanted it as a long fic because .... well because I can lol Also, I didn’t want to have Damian so young in this so just go with it. I’m thinking maybe early 15 or almost 16 at the most. Idk I just don’t like writing for young Dami.

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, brief mentions of torture but not for long

Word Count: 2587

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

The sun shinned brightly overhead in the cloudless sky. It was a warm day, nothing unbearable however. A light breeze flew through the training ground as all seemed unusually calm. Everyone was focused on their training. You and Damian were well underway in sparring. You were on your highest guard. The ease of today was not going to throw you off your game. Trusting your instincts, you kept an eye out for anything that was off balance.

“The only thing besides your mission and daily tasks you should be concerned with, is the safety of my son, the heir to the League. There is no true telling information on what will happen so keep on your highest guard.” You thought about Talia’s words from a few weeks ago, repeating them in your mind, “General. That is the position you have been given. That is not however your only job. Your main, most important job is to be my son’s second hand. If something were to ever happen to myself or The Demon Head, I fully expect you to stay with Damian over everything. Do not make me regret my decision in picking you off the ground of that orphanage.”

“Is something on your mind?” Damian asked saying the last part softly enough so no one else would hear, “You’re more intense than usual today.”

“I am fine.” You answered knocking him to the ground before he kicked you down getting the upper hand.

“You don’t seem it General.”

You cocked a brow before getting in position to knock him off. The sound of something flying quickly for you caught your attention though. With wide eyes, you saw an arrow. Looking around there were hundreds. Going into a more intense version of a mission mindset, you rolled over taking Damian under you, moving in time as to not be hit by the arrow.

“Get behind me.” You demanded standing up.

“Get behind you?” Damian was in disbelief at the look on your face.

“That’s an order!” You quickly took the man coming for you down, stabbing him in his lower abdomen region before pulling your sword out and killing another assailant, blood splattering on your face much to Damian’s shock.

Damian looked to where his mother and grandfather was and stopped seeing his grandfather bleeding out on the floor. You saw this too. Kicking into high gear, the words of Talia played faster and louder in your mind taking over all of your thoughts. Everyone not in proper league attire was now a target and threat. You had your route in mind and took it.

“Fallen is the Ra’s al Ghul.” You said quietly in respect, “I stay till the end.”

Damian had seen you fight aggressively before. It was amazing to watch. This time though, there was a sense of something that he couldn’t quite pick up. Watching you, he saw you must have planned for this countless numbers of times.

You nodded at Talia who returned the signal before taking the bow and arrows of the man you just killed and shooting it at anyone who dared to come close, “Follow me.” You ordered

Running in front of Damian, you took the heavier side of the arrows. You were both in your armor which wouldn’t be susceptible to arrows that easily, you just weren’t taking the chance of it failing though. Once you were out of arrows, you threw the extras at anyone who was in your way. Damian would have found that amusing if you weren’t so serious.

You ran through the hallway and then down another. Damian didn’t know where you were going but from what he was seeing, it was to the pit. Once you were down the stairs and then hall that would take you to the pit, you stopped and looked around before opening up a hidden door in the wall’s decorative moulding.

“H-how did you-“

“No time for questions, get in.” You hissed pulling him in by his wrist before shutting the door

You pulled him into another room down the long and confusing hallway maze that was built to get people lost in case they followed this far.

“Don’t lose me al Ghul.” You commanded running into the middle of the maze before heading out of another secret passage.

“That’s not the plan General.”

Once entering the last room, Damian saw the jet that was in the middle of a new room that you’d come into.

“What is this place?” He asked once you were both in the jet waiting for Talia, “And why don’t I know about it and you do?”

There was an envelope that was a note from Talia to Bruce incase she died. It was to tell him about you and Damian. Apparently, there was something in there that would convince him that you two were legit. Though, you never asked. When it came to Talia and the birth of Damian, you didn’t ask questions.

“Answer me Y/N!” he demanded once you didn’t answer as you were busy at the controls.

“Do not raise your voice at me.” You said in a deep, ominous tone making him blink a few times, “Talia and I knew that one day there might be a time that the compound would be taken over or just attacked. We knew that the league depended on your survival. It was important to have a place that I could take you in case something did happen.” “If she doesn’t show in 10 minutes or we are attacked between that time, I am expected to fly to Gotham City and take you to your father.”

“You will take me to the Batman?” He almost stated instead of asking.

“Who else?” You remarked rolling your eyes a bit.

_______________________________________________________________________

The ten minutes had passed and Talia was flying the jet to Gotham. No one spoke for the first half of the flight. There was too much to think about for conversation. Damian sat in the back as you and Talia took to flying the jet. Night was falling upon the oncoming city. Talia had already contacted Bruce and you were expected shortly.

“I do not know when I will see you next.” Talia said addressing the both of you, “Stay with Bruce until I come back.”

In a dialect Damian didn’t understand, Talia spoke to you, “General, I will send updates on occasion. You know your mission.”

“Yes Talia.”

_______________________________________________________________________

You and Damian entered the building behind Talia. She was in front of him while you were behind. Damian knew that this was for a reason but he knew better than to say anything. The three of you headed into an elevator and then up a few floors. Talia was determined to be there before Bruce and have the two of you hidden away. Placing you two behind the curtain you stayed silent.

“You’ve got blood on your jawline.” Damian commented very quietly.

You looked at him for a second before trying to rub as much of it off as possible before braiding your hair over the spot so that it wouldn’t be seen. There was no reason to cause any more concern than what there would be. The two of you exchanged glances upon hearing Bruce’s voice. You heard Talia talk about her scans and Damian. Bruce obviously didn’t know that he existed. Knowing that that would bother Damian, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder for a second before the curtain was pulled back.

“This is your son, Damian and his right hand, Y/N L/N.” Talia said leaving Bruce shocked, “She is not your daughter, I found her in an orphanage when she was a small child. She is however a high general and will not leave Damian’s side.” Talia more demanded than informed the last part.

Damian walked to his father, “The great Batman... I imagined you taller.”

You almost rolled your eyes at that one, typical Damian.

More discussion between Talia and Bruce took place before Damian told her goodbye a last time. She turned to you not really expecting anything but a nod. Instead you repeated what you said on the training field.

“Fallen is the Ra’s al Ghul.” “I stay till the end.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Bruce wasn’t much of a talker, you didn’t mind until getting into the Batmoblie. That was going to be a bit more awkward.

“I’m taking you two back to the manor. I expect you to act civil while I’m on patrol.”

You nodded thinking Damian might possibly do the same.

“I’ll drive.” He instead said.

You tried not to facepalm, instead pinching the bridge of your nose for a second.

“No.” Batman replied.

“I know how!” He insisted.

“I don’t care.”

Damian got into the front seat with you in the back. You didn’t mind sitting back there if it wasn’t for the constant glares you were getting from Bruce at times. He didn’t trust you and you didn’t blame him. Maybe giving your title and position wasn’t a great idea on Talia’s part. You just weren’t sure anymore. After the entire talk of not killing and rules in the house, you just wanted to arrive and were beyond relived when you finally did. Damian of course asked the more condescending questions once he was in the cave. You found the tech impressive whether it was small or not compared to what you thought. It was very... on brand as some might say. You also didn’t mind just having the one Butler. It made you feel better just be able to be a bit normal and do things yourself.

Before Bruce was about to get back into the Batmobile you stopped him.

“I have direct orders from Talia to give this to you.” You passed him the envelope.

“Thank you.” He raised a brow, “I trust that you are loyal to your position?”

“I am not high general anymore.” You said making Bruce pause, “Not until or if I return to the league. My only mission now is protecting Damian. Where he goes, I go. Where he stays, I stay. Where he might die, I am prepared and expected to take his place. I am loyal to that.” “It has been this way since I was brought to the league and will stay this way for the rest of our lives.”

“I respect that.”

When Bruce left, Alfred took you and Damian up to your rooms. Alfred said little but did reply a “Yes Master Bruce.” Into a comm that he had in his ear. The rooms were right next to each other which was nice. You suspected that was on purpose. Maybe Bruce was going to respect your position. You only had your suit to sleep in. It was a bit ... bloody though. You cursed under your breath in Arabic looking in the mirror and seeing it. That must have been what you were getting looks for besides the intense glares you were given back. You were about to wash your face even if it was just with water and hand soap, as much as that made you cringe, before a knock at your door stopped you.

You walked to the bedroom door and opened the door revealing Alfred.

“For tonight, I have only this set of nightclothes from Miss. Barbra Gordon, a family friend. Tomorrow I shall have new clothes for you in a suitable fashion.” He passed you the neatly folded stack of clothes, “There are toiletries in the bathroom under the faucet.”

“Thank you. It is greatly appreciated.” You said taking the stack from him.

“You are welcome.” He paused, “If you would prefer, I may be able to arrange a trip with Miss. Gordon and Miss. Brown. They are both heavily involved with the family.” “I have also already informed the young Master Damian that there are three others here. Master Dick, the oldest, Master Jason, and Master Tim. I expect the best behavior from all of them.”

You knew what he meant by that which was intentional and nodded at his words.

“That would be suitable.”

Alfred wished you a goodnight you shut the door, before taking a shower and properly washing your face. The clothes that you were now in were very comfortable. You knew that they were second used but you were used to it. Right now, they reminded you of the nightclothes you wore when you were young and still moving from house to house. You never had proper attire until the league and then even then, that was far from normal. Only on some missions would you wear “normal clothes”.

_______________________________________________________________________

Once you were out of the shower, you had gotten into bed. The gold necklace from your parents that Talia had let you keep was still on. You didn’t really want to take it off tonight. While Damian had you, you only really had the necklace as a kind of good luck charm no matter how cliché that might sound to some. Before you could actually get into bed, there was a knock. You didn’t really know who to expect at this point but weren’t surprised to see Damian.

“Damian...” You stepped aside to let him inside.

“L/N, I must address something with you.” He said, “You kept a secret from me. Something that could have ended my life.” “Why?”

“I gave my word I would.” You answered honestly, “Talia told me-“

“I don’t care what my mother told you.” He raised his voice some, “You’ve known that this might happen for weeks and didn’t say a word. Grandfather could still be alive if you had said something.”

“It was on my word, of course I wasn’t going to say anything demon.” You were upset with him now.

“I don’t care about that! What if something had happened more? You and I both know that the league is probably in shambles right now and you did nothing!”

“I did everything I was supposed to Damian!” You said making him step back, “What you saw was years of training. Ra’s al Ghul wouldn’t be saved by my words. He knew. Talia knew. I knew that something was wrong. When I told you to keep on your highest guard, I meant it. I said nothing because if I did we’d be in a worse situation now. I take my commands, I take them and I follow through with them. I was not the second hand of your grandfather. I am your second hand. If I was anything different, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You may question as much as you want, however do not dare question my loyalties or actions.”

“When Talia picked me off of that floor of the orphanage, I gave her my word I’d follow through with anything she told me. I’ve been trained for the worst. I’ve been trained to die for you. So, don’t ever think that you even have any right to judge what I’m doing.” You glared at him waiting for him to speak.

“Y/N I didn’t know-“

“Just leave. I don’t want to continue this conversation anymore. If it is still a concern to you, we’ll talk in the morning.”

You watched him leave and shut the door behind him before falling back onto the bed and passing out from the sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. No one knew what tomorrow would bring. The only thing you knew was that it was coming like a train ready to run you right over if you weren’t careful.

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@idkmanicantenglish

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dyketectivecomics · 4 years ago

Note

wait i wanna hear the conversation about how cass processes her anger

(its been so long since i made the original tag, but i hope you like this verifiable essay zaed lmao) (and uh, LONG POST warning for everyone else. this is a good 3k of Cited/Summed-Up Issues and Meta about Cass’ Batgirl run)

The reason why Cass processes differently from Bruce is because their traumas have different origin points and therefore have manifested differently. While Bruce’s vigilante drive is in avenging those who have been wronged and bringing villains to justice (bc of his perceived ‘failure’ to save his parents/bring Chill to justice), Cass’ drive is all about her absolution (bc of her continuous guilt for taking a life & later for any other person she feels she ‘failed’ along the way). That being said, while Cass herself is not a typically angry character, the anger that she displays throughout Batgirl (2000) usually has one of three origin points; the vindictiveness towards criminals that she’s learned from Bruce, her unresolved anger towards her father & mother, or the special cases, often where her inhibitions have been selectively lowered due to outside forces. Given that Cass is never given many healthy options to channel this anger, however, is how she ends up emulating Bruce, and is what makes exploring her anger so fascinating.

With that, let’s dive through the canon & Cass’ journey in Batgirl (2000).

I - Learning Vindictiveness

Again, all things considered, Cass isn’t an angry character at the start of her series! In issue #1, wordless as most of it is, there is a very telling moment when both she and Bruce are fighting together, and when she chases a goon into an alley. She watches while Bruce is a little overzealous in taking said goon out. For first-time Cass readers who may not have read NML, this can be a very telling moment. Cass has seen Bruce work. More than that, she’s seen him work in what’s likely one of the most stressful disasters to plague Gotham. But this is one of the first times that she’s really seeing him, and starting to pick up on how and why Bruce operates the way that he does. Admittedly, this is an undertone that I didn’t quite pick up on, during my first readthrough! But I mention it here bc I think it’s something to keep in mind. Because in #4, when Bruce makes his infamous “she’s perfect” speech, he specifically mentions how she ‘holds back’ even for criminals who he wouldn’t care if she was a little harsher with. I think that this is a big moment for Bruce, realizing how he excuses vindictiveness. However, he quickly backtracks on this when in #6, when Cass becomes so incensed (one of the first times we really see full-fledged anger from her) by seeing a criminal shooting arbitrarily that she stops his heart for a few seconds. And Bruce, hypocrite that he is, berates her for taking things a Step Too Far there.

Okay, might be getting a little harsh on Bruce, so in his defense, he doesn’t like the road he sees her heading down. At this point, he’s in denial of the Evidence that Cain has sent him so far that Cass has killed in the past. He’s fearful for what it might mean that he’s putting faith and trust in a potential killer (or rather is in flatout denial that Cass The Perfect Fighter could Ever Have Possibly Killed when she CLEARLY exhibits so much control. Killers must be all or nothing things, after all, right? Once one, aways one? (you’re absolutely wrong bruce but OKAY))

The point still remains, that Cass didn’t show vindictiveness on this level prior to issue #6. And more importantly, prior to Bruce showing her his own vengeful side. And the wildest thing about this… is that he continues to nurture and reward that vengefulness.

Issue #14 is a follow-up to a story where Cass had saved a man while out of costume, and Bruce learns that he had been killed regardless. Hoping to intercede before she finds out on her own, he leads Cass directly to the killers and allows her to punish (read: beat the crap out of) them for the man they killed. Now, there was some significant lead-up to this issue, the biggest shake-up also being that Cass is officially moved out of the Clocktower and into her own Cave. (Promotion or Isolation, it’s tough to speculate which exactly Bruce had in mind, given Cass’ behavior leading to this moment. None of it, I would label as quite angry, however. More... moderately rebellious.) So this can be seen as a kind of turning point where Bruce is explicitly putting faith in her again.

From here we begin to see more and more instances of children being put in danger & Cass being more vindictive in turn. Most especially in #16 (when Cass realizes the mastermind behind a heist is the father of the boy who sent her after them & she’s harsher with him than with many of the other crooks), and #18 (where she and Tim team up and she breaks a kidnapper’s hands when he threatened to kill the girl he had hostage). By this point in the series, Cass has also been working more consistently with others, and it’s easy to see how this has become a learned behavior, and a poor outlet for her growing anger towards the criminal element.

Cass, for all of her heart and training that she’s poured into her vigilantism, at this point in the series had been working towards one goal, to be ready to die by Shiva’s hands. Now, I want to put a pin in Shiva since she comes more into play in Part II, but just know that their fight in #25 was a turning point for Cass’ character, where she begins to care much more about the work Bruce does outside of simply fighting criminals, she begins to care about truly helping victims and for solving cases.

#34, specifically, opens with Cass and Bruce investigating a crime scene, where Cass can tell that a child was hurt. She asks Bruce to allow her to help solve it, but he benches her, telling her she’s ‘not ready’ for detective work. The rest of the issue is interspersed with Cass training until her knuckles are bleeding, and does end with her helping Bruce take down the group responsible! When Bruce asks at the end, however, if putting away One Killer is enough for her, she responds ‘No’, and Bruce expresses his pride in that declaration.

For a long time by this point in the run and for quite a time after, Bruce has absolutely been molding Cass more and more into the same type of vigilante that he is. And Cass is perfectly fine with that! She sees Batman as something to aspire to, the symbol as something transformative and redemptive. And as long as she is channeling the anger that she feels at those who so clearly deserve that punishment, then she must be doing something right.

Because there certainly aren’t other outlets or alternatives that could be productive… could there?

II - Dad/Mom Issues

Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive is an extremely notable story arc, not only for the crossover event that it became, but for the impact and repercussions that it would have for Cass. While not expressing anger, per se, during this arc, Cass does show a lot of frustration towards both Dick and Barbara whenever they suggest theories of how/why Bruce may have actually committed the murder (which, spoiler, he was indeed framed for! By Cain, no less!). This is important to note because this arc highlights a few things; the faith and trust that Cass has put into Bruce that she’s willing to go to bat for him, the jealousy & proprietary nature that Cain displays over Cass, and finally the consequences that are had when that jealousy comes to light.

Another case opens up after this arc, and Cass is forced to confront Cain in #33 in an effort to gather intel on the criminal known as Alpha. When she goes in under the guise of a reporter and tries to interrogate him, she’s overcome with unresolved anger towards Cain, yelling “Who do you think you are?” and even breaking through the glass to get to him. This isn’t the first, nor the last time that Cass’ anger towards Cain is on display, but it’s certainly a prominent one, as while she makes physically aggressive moves towards him (and yeah, initially kicks him when breaking through the glass), she never outright lays a hand on him otherwise in this one. Threatens him, sure, but shows remarkable restraint given the high emotions.

Cass’ feelings about Cain and about the events of Murderer/Fugitive aren’t ever fully articulated, but given #37, I think we can draw some more definitive conclusions. This issue follows the thread given previously in #33, opening with Cain sending Cass a knife for her birthday. With it, she finally connects the dots that Cain is indeed her biological father, something that was speculated, but not fully confirmed before now. In her anger against everything he’s done to her, they close this issue with a rather dramatic shot of her doing everything possible to destroy the knife, leaving it unclear if she’s truly successful, however.

In later issues when Cass reminisces on her past and on those who have influenced her, Cain is always one of the shadows included. Unfortunate as it is, Cain will always be part of who Cass was, but from this point on in her series, she starts to let some of that anger go. Cain doesn’t decide her future. She does.

Juxtapose this idea, however, much later in #65, when Cass begins to suspect who her mother might be, but wants confirmation. This is what kicks off the final arc of her series, and effectively brings one of the longer running storylines to a close. Cass goes to Gotham to ask Bruce, who also has had his suspicions, but can’t confirm that Shiva is her mom. Since Cass is in town, she goes to train with Onyx (another former assassin-turned vigilante), and whether she’s doing it on purpose or because Shiva is on her mind, she begins to incorporate Shiva’s moves into her fighting, which Onyx points out. All this comes to a head when she confronts Cain for an answer, which he refuses (and we finally see her fully beat his ass lmao). Once again, she doesn’t express anger with Bruce or take out her frustrations on Onyx, but instead levels the blame entirely on Cain, and uses him as an outlet once she’s reached a breaking point.

Another moment to point out is in #67, when the Birds of Prey help Cass along in tracking down Shiva, and when Cass and Dinah train in the meantime. Dinah shows off her new moves (Shiva’s moves) to Cass, and Cass reacts badly, nearly choking Dinah out as she demands to know how Dinah learned those moves. She learns that Shiva’s been looking for a student/heir, and later on that she’s been working with the League of Assassins to help her to that end. I feel this moment highlights a growing trend, that feelings left bottled up will eventually spill over if they’re not properly acknowledged. Would Cass have otherwise reacted so poorly to Dinah showing her ‘new moves’ otherwise? But I digress.

Given that their first confrontation was in this same vein, of Shiva looking for one to either end her reign or take over her legacy, it’s kind of poetic for them to end on this note. The series concludes with Cass facing off against Shiva for the last time, Cass the unmitigated victor, with nothing left to prove to either of her parents or to herself. She’s finally at peace with her past, and that leaves her present a wide open mystery.

This, however, brings us to a topic that still bears exploration...

III - The Edge™

Because no matter how much Cass is able to hold back, even in her quest for justice. No matter the anger that she feels towards her parents. I would be remiss if I didn’t bring up the times that Cass has been pushed back to the worst possible edges.

The first, and most prominent of which, occurs in #15, when Cass is hit by a machine that causes her to hallucinate the Joker killing Bruce. The entire purpose of the machine was to push people into ‘deciding’ to kill others, and for most it would knock them out for a few minutes/hour before they would wake up and be compelled to commit a killing spree. For Cass, it was a matter of seconds that she ran through the scenario presented by her subconscious, and to make that ‘decision’. Cass is introspective at the end of the issue, and her concern for Bruce is made very clear. Her emotions towards that ‘decision’ however… is a lot less understood.

Now another issue I want to bring up is #19, a lot less for it being an issue where Cass’ outright anger is employed, but as another extreme case with high emotions. Cass hears that a man has been sentenced to die, and, believing that all life should be spared, actually goes to the trouble of breaking through the chamber where he’s being held and stops the process in its tracks. She truly does want to believe that anyone can be redeemed, and it’s an admirable part of her character. Ultimately, her efforts are for naught, the man is still sentenced to die and Cass is now forced to contend with a system she does not agree with. It’s an interesting idea to explore and highlights her idealism, but ultimately it’s not as fully understood or even really acknowledged, in my opinion, by the fandom at large. (Which is why I wish I had highlighted it in my previous meta, but I’m getting off topic again.)

Recalling that her ‘Perfect Year’ occurs during this next example, in #21 she almost kills the villain Shadowthief in her preparation for her first deathmatch with Shiva, and immediately regrets the lapse in judgement when she realizes what she had done. Stephanie was luckily nearby to help her resuscitate him, but it was nonetheless a very telling moment and lapse. It’s a harrowing reminder of what Cass IS capable of. Though she’s been preparing and training for a fight to the death, she’s still absolutely abhorred by the thought of taking another life. She’s not angry during this battle, she’s more playful than she’s been in a lot of issues leading up to this, actually. But the point remains, Cass will always be capable of taking another life, what she lacks is the willingness to knowingly do so, and now will always have a fear of the possibility.

With that we circle back around to two of the drug-induced cases, first in #46 where Cass accidentally ingests Soul. The stream of consciousness that materializes on the pages, shows that she HAS picked up on everything that everyone around her feels/sees in her, and that she’s internalized it to some degree. Cass does manage to fight through most of it and held her own against the drug runners she was fighting. Something to note, though, is that this incident is preceded by Cass learning that Babs and Dick are once again at odds, so once Babs sends Dick to check up on Cass, she responds (still in that drug-induced state mind you) by kicking Dick out a window on Babs’ behalf. Given that Cass has no previous history of turning on allies, (& won’t again until the incident with Dinah much later) even when frustrated or in disagreement with them, this moment certainly needs to be kept very carefully in context.

Following this issue, we see a slight personality change from Cass, where she’s becoming more reckless and frustrated. In #48 this culminates in her ignoring both Babs and Bruce’s calls, she ends up comprising his human trafficking investigation, and Bruce grounds her from being Batgirl in the meantime. #49 shows her going against Bruce’s wishes and operating in Babs’ old suit, something that angers Bruce when he discovers this.

This story arc finds its conclusion in #50, where both Cass and Bruce are gassed with Soul and they fight a pretty brutal battle while under its effects. They have their famous heart to heart after, where Bruce asks ‘once and for all’ where Cassandra’s loyalties lie. Bruce later posits that this fight was the ‘therapy’ that Cass needed bc “what other therapy will she understand?”.

While his heart may have been in the right place, this idea, that Cass can only respond to fighting and express herself through violence, is ultimately not a very healthy one. Cass’ default is already training and fighting, so any further strain that she puts on herself becomes something more akin to self-flagellation than anything near to a proper coping mechanism.

IV - Conclusion

And that’s where the parallel between Cass and Bruce really reaches an uncanny similarity for me. Because they pour everything they can into the mission, often to the detriment of their mental and emotional health. While Bruce’s degrees of self-awareness for his anger may vary by writer, Cass’ is fairly consistent across her Batgirl run. The outlets given to her were so few to begin with, and any effort to examine her emotions or to express herself through other outlets is… simply not given to her for all too long over the course of her series. It’s a rather tragic, and ultimately heartbreaking thing, because so soon after her series ends… DC seemed to decide the best thing to do with her, was to turn her into a villain.

I said at the beginning that Cass is not a naturally angry character, but it does need to be acknowledged that she’s absolutely capable of anger, and that that anger is often not expressed in the healthiest of ways. Whether this development is seen and acknowledged by the fandom at large, however, well… while that’s looking less and less likely by mainstream batfam stans, I am hopeful that Cass fans continue to highlight this aspect of her character in the content they create. And that I, too, can remember to acknowledge this in future fan content that I make as well.

#cassandra cain #randywritesmeta #asked and answered #jaccsonhyde #zaed tag #bruce wayne #*jazz hands* ITS AN ESSAY SOOO YKNOW #keep that in mind!!#hope yall like this ahhh #long post #(JUST in case tunglr acts weird!!)

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wizardnuke · 5 years ago

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tagged by @natasharxmanov thank u I love this

1. Which avenger would you recruit to help you plan your birthday?

NOT tony he'd get overexcited. uh I'd say clint or natasha because clint knows how to have fun without like setting off fireworks and paying beyonce to show up or something and natasha just has good planning skills

2. Which avenger would you switch suits with for a day?

tony please GOD I wanna wear the iron man armor SO BAD guys

3. Which avenger would you want to train with?

steve! I bet he's a really good teacher

4. Oh No, you need help! Which avenger would you call if you’re in trouble

it highkey depends on the type of trouble, if I was like locked out of my house I'd call natasha because she'd pick the lock, but if I got like arrested I'd probably call tony bc bail money yknow

5. Uh oh, you got arrested, which avenger were you with?

yeah speaking of getting arrested. 100% steve. we got arrested for some sort of aggressive protesting shit. destroying hostile architecture. punching a politician. barfights. steve call me anytime let's go

6. The Avengers are playing basketball, which avenger would you pick first to be on your team?

natasha bc while she doesn't have the height she has the ability to climb tall people very very quickly and also she's like really fast

7. You’re trying to make your ex jealous, which avenger do you pretend to date?

hm. hmm. much 2 think about. we're polyam so like. hm. very hard to make her jealous. but in the end I'd say natasha bc she's kinda like natasha in terms of personality and she'd notice so nat's like my ex 2.0 and she'd realize I got a fuckin UPGRADE jk we're on good terms, she's great, danae if you're out t

8. You’re out for a good time, and need a wing man/woman, which avenger do you pick for the job?

clint is absolutely a fantastic wingman

9. You woke up with a hangover, which avenger were you drunk with?

I challenged thor to a drinking contest in a fit of disillusioned self confidence and pride and got horribly drunk after one shot. im 94 pounds

10. You’re going on a road trip, which avenger do you ride with?

tony! he's the funniest avenger (it's one of his superpowers) and I feel like a lot of the avengers would plan the trip pretty strictly, but he wouldn't

11. No way! You slept with one of the avengers. Which avenger did you wake up next to?

this took some thinking but in the end I have decided that I had a threesome with steve and natasha. thanks for coming to my ted talk

12. Your favorite band is having a concert, which avenger goes with you?

STEVE so I can sit on his shoulders I'm v small

13. You’re going shopping, and need second opinions, which avenger do you trust to help you pick out outfits?

tony 100% the man may be a fucking disaster but he knows fashion

14. Your parents want to meet one of your new friends, which avenger do you take to meet your parents?

steve, but only if it's before our arrest. if it's after said arrest and my mom knows he's willing to do crimes with me then I'd pick sam, no he's not one of the og6, I don't Care, he's the best at social interaction

15. You get injured on a mission, which avenger would you trust to be in charge of your care?

bruce is the classic choice and after all this is a 2012 avengers blog Only so it'd prob be him, also he's like the calmest of all of them and really nice and I will readily admit I'm kinda grumpy when I don't feel good so yeah

16. Your room is a mess, which avenger do you pick to be your butler, and clean your room?

bdjdnfknfkfn uh I would feel so bad doing that I don't even wanna think about it but I bet bruce is the tidiest out of all of them so it'd be him. sorry bruce I wouldn't make u do that

17. You wanna play a prank on the team, but need help. Which avenger do you pick to help you prank the rest of the team?

CLINT he's. so chaotic. this is a 2012 era and matt fraction clint stan blog. OR tony because he's very very creative and would come up with something fuckin wild

18. Time to buy Christmas presents, which avenger is the easiest for you to buy for?

thor! I'd buy him something thats like humanity exclusive. moon shoes. a snuggie. or oh my god a fushigi he would lose his MIND do they even make those anymore

19. You’re going on a mission but only one other person can go. Which member of the team do you choose to go with you?

steve. he's durable. intimidating. somewhat capable of stealth. brilliant strategist. hot as fuck

tagging @antifaironman @daredeviil @oluka @in-a-cave-with @lovelyirony and anyone else that wants to do it!

#tag game

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incoherentbabblings · 5 years ago

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Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (1/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer's work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

Ao3 link here!

Hey, @thatblondeperson @our-happygirl500-fan the odyssey begins, huh? Thank you both for your help with this, I imagine I will keep bugging you with questions and pictures of pretty dresses going forward.

“No way.”

“Batgirl.”

“No! Are you serious? Look, I did the trip to England – even though I have a life here and didn’t want to – because it was like only for a semester and it was to help people… but this? No.”

“I agree.” Red Robin chimed, bolstering Batgirl against Batman. He pulled back his cowl, revealing the tired young man underneath. He didn’t look wholly invested in anything Bruce had to say. “Can’t you fake it? With Selina or… I don’t know. Zatanna or…” Tim shrugged uselessly. “I’ve already had a fake engagement! One’s enough, thank you.”

“No-one is going to believe Bruce Wayne’s engagement… They know it will all fall through.” Dick chimed up. He was sat at the batcomputer, feet up on the keyboard, eating chunks of mango and watermelon and looking completely indifferent to the outraged faces around him. He looked briefly at Bruce. “No offense.”

“Well you do it then!” Stephanie argued. “You’re a…fully grown adult. No-one would blink an eye if you and Babs got engaged! Everyone knows you’re sweet on each other.”

Dick slowed the chewing of his fruit. Looking Steph straight in the eye, he spat out seeds over the edge of the ground down in the depths of the cave. Tim watched out of the corner of his eye as Bruce folded his arms, exasperated. Finally, after a tense stare off, Dick grinned.

“Can’t. Going off world on Friday. Can’t get married if you’re not on Earth. And this case really needs to be closed asap.”

It was a shit eating grin, one that made Steph want to instinctively slap it off his face as she felt increasingly crowded into a corner. Tim meanwhile screwed up his lips.

“You seriously think the designer has something to do with it?”

“Two murders at a wedding in two months. Both bride and groom.”

“No such thing as a coincidence?” Asked Stephanie. She tugged off her cape, hair getting caught as she did so. After a brief fight with the cowl, she tossed both aside and spun back to look at Batman.

“No. Not in these instances.”

“But what’s the connection?”

“Both brides were wearing the same designer.”

Tim nodded, catching on. “So… someone either has it out for the designer and wants her life to collapse… or she’s a wedding dress designer who hates happy couples.”

“Potentially.” Bruce walked towards Tim, seeing he was less aggressively opposed then Stephanie. “All you have to do is pretend. Hire her for the dress, plan the wedding. I’ll find the truth.”

Stephanie was not moved. “Using us as decoys? Really? And with what spare time am I supposed to plan a wedding? This is my final year of college… I can’t drop it all for the sake of a lie.” She looked to Tim, hoping to implore him to side with her. Bruce couldn’t make them both agree, surely.

To her growing distress, Tim was frowning off to the side, pulling his usual thinking face when he was musing something over.

“We’d seriously have to go through with it? Like from engagement, planning…wedding. All of it?” Something sparked in Tim’s eyes, and Stephanie’s stomach dropped.

She shook her head at him, unable to beg out loud. Bruce’s large chest heaved up and down with an exaggerated breath.

“It would have to be public. We’ll be making you targets. Big ones.”

If anything, this seemed to further motivate Tim, rather than placing the pressing guilt that had formed in Stephanie’s lungs. He looked to Bruce, expression serious and earnest.

“But we’d be potentially redirecting it from innocent people.”

Dick blinked, his somewhat sadistic enjoyment of their discomfort shifting as he too noticed Tim’s expression. A sort of desperation that Stephanie recognized in a way that made her breath short.

Panic went through her then, and she blurted out a, “What if I say no?” She tried to put her foot down, but instead it came out quiet and pleading.

“Then I won’t do it either.” Tim said, looking her in the eye for the first time since the idea was brought up. “I don’t want to. Not without her.”

Dick’s expression morphed into what only could have been described as pity. Tim and Stephanie were not dating, hadn’t been for years, but everyone knew from watching that they still knew each other inside and out, better than most anyone else. For all Tim had been drifting in and out of closeness with Bruce and Dick the past three years, it seemed he had only relocated positions within the family. Always to Cassandra first, his sister in every way that counted, and, despite his initial reservations, also to Stephanie, who had taken every effort to move past the worst of their adolescence with open arms.

They had grown closer (still not close enough in Tim’s opinion) but a level of shyness, of fragility remained. One wrong step and the false peace they had put together the past few years would crumble and reveal structural faults that neither could fix.

For all Tim wanted a partner to ensure that his loneliness would depart from him permanently; for all Tim wanted Stephanie to be that partner – Stephanie in all her hard fought and earned independence – Tim knew he couldn’t force her to do anything. Neither could Bruce. Not anymore. That lesson, they had both learned a long time ago.

He had been treading on eggshells for some time now, desperate to not upset her, even if it came at the cost of his own happiness.

Stephanie knew all of this. She had watched him argue with himself and twitch in a way that indicated he wanted to move closer, and she had watched him refuse to verbalise any of it.

He wouldn’t speak; therefore, she wouldn’t speak. Ergo, their relationship was at a dead end.

Unless he could get her to agree to lie with him.

Which would make her miserable. Because he wouldn’t be talking to her. Not truly.

And the uroboros of a Catch-22 situation would continue to eat its tail.

Bruce watched the naked relief play out on Stephanie’s face that she had Tim’s conditional support. He gave another sigh, and Dick watched from his seat, knowing that Bruce was about to play dirty.

“I do not trust anyone else to follow this through.”

Tim groaned, and hung his head down, and Dick knew Bruce had won. Stephanie meanwhile, for a lack of a better term, flipped out.

“No.” She said, and she began to tear off her uniform until she was only in her black tank top and leggings, stomping barefooted back up the stairs.

Trying to not take it personally, Tim rushed to the changing area to get into his shirt and jeans and socks. Maybe if he just caught her…

Dick watched the pair go, chewing loudly on a crunchy piece of fruit.

“Sometimes you’re really cruel.”

“…I know.”

Stephanie rushed into one of the drawing rooms, grabbing her bag she had left resting on a seat to pull out her shoes, collapsing to the expensive rug. Her little purple car was parked out front, so she could make a quick getaway.

Tim practically fell into the room, having thrown on a checked shirt and jeans that made his butt look good.

Stupid Tim.

“Steph.” He breathlessly plead. She tied her shoelaces, ignoring his tone. Finding the expensive cream rug much more interesting, she aggressively tied knots in her shoes.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“We could end up saving a lot of people down the line and –”

“You know that throwing yourself in front of a bullet isn’t going to make daddy love you any better, right?”

Tim stopped breathing, and she knew instantly she had crossed a line. She slumped forward, head banging against her knees. Tim watched her shoulders heave with silent sobs. Instantly he moved to be level with her, curled up on the floor, hidden out of sight from Alfred, or Bruce, or anyone.

His hand hovered, wanting to stroke her hair, but instead he settled for her bare forearm. He felt her muscle spasm under his cold fingers and watched as goosebumps appeared on her arm. She was looking paler than normal.

“Steph I won’t... I won’t force you to do it. But, if we can make ourselves targets then we could be saving someone else, and if Bruce closes the case before we even get to the alter… It doesn’t have to be serious...” He murmured the last part, trying to hide the paranoid part of him that believed Stephanie was reacting so strongly to the idea of being tied to him again – even temporarily.

“Tim, if this were five years ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. And not just because there’s no-one else I’d rather do this with...”

Tim smiled, despite the general mood of the room. Stephanie, with her head pressed to her knees, did not see.

“But I’m not going to be fake marrying a nice boy from down the road.”

“What do you mean?”

She finally looked up at him, and her eyes were dry and clear.

“Your name, Tim. Bruce’s name.”

He blinked, still not comprehending. Her fingers crept forward, absently stroking the fabric of his shirt.

“If you were me... If you were just an average Gothamite, and you saw that one of the richest and most handsome guys in Gotham, the one who spends his life in the public eye... If you saw he was marrying a girl who has a father on death row, and a mother who has a history of drug abuse. A girl who he hasn’t publicly associated with before outside of days where his sister was present... A girl who got pregnant at fifteen... How would that look? A two-month engagement?”

“I’d think it was none of my business.”

“And then the marriage breaks off after a month. Or they don’t even make it to the marriage stage. What do you think happens to that girl? How do you think her life is going to be afterwards?”

Tim couldn’t help it, with his free hand he reached for one of hers. Tangling their fingers together, he felt her trembling. She squeezed back tightly, their fingers turning a little purple.

“Bruce and I wouldn’t let anything like that happen.” Tim swore.

“You can’t promise that.”

Still so jaded, under all that optimism. Still so doubtful of how kind the world actually was.

“Yes, I can. I can.”

“God Tim, you’re so naïve!”

She tried to pull away, but Tim held tight, not letting her leave. She stared at him outraged, as he tried to convince her.

“Please Steph. Bruce doesn’t make mistakes about this sort of thing. More people are going to die unless we do something.”

Pale blue eyes stared into indigo, and a long moment passed in silence, the clock on the mantle providing the only noise. Some garden birds chirped outside, and the fluttering of their wings past the window made Stephanie flinch out of the moment. She breathed unsteadily. Tim tugged their conjoined hands closer to his chest.

“You’d honestly rather do it with no-one else?” He asked, smiling crookedly.

She blinked, unable to stand the vulnerability anymore, frowned and looked out the window. “You said the same thing downstairs.”

He blushed, and she tugged her hands finally free. Tim tried not to grimace at the feeling. Steph was always warm, a beacon of tanned skin and golden hair. Without her, his fingers quickly grew cold.

He had run home once, on a cold Gotham day, when he and his dad had spent an afternoon playing catch outside. His parents had been home for two months that time, and he had run in to find his mother and beg for a hot chocolate. He had been only six, and Janet had been sat in front of the computer, dark red hair piled up in a messy bun. Tim remembered her always looking well put together, even in her messier more relaxed moments.

“Mom, mom!” He had cried, cheeks flushed red from the temperature. His mother’s stress lines had disappeared when she spied him coming her way, and she held out her arms to catch him. She had been in a good mood that day. Ready to indulge him.

She pulled him up onto her lap, and Tim had laughed.

“Feel my hands!” And he had put his frozen fingers on her cheeks, causing her to gasp exaggeratedly.

“Frozen solid!” And she had kissed and kissed and kissed him and with each kiss he felt warmer and warmer. “Cold hands mean a warm heart though Tim. That’s the most important bit.”

And his father had entered the room, and the smile had slipped from Janet’s face, and the soft moment with his mother had been over. The warmth fled him, her and the house.

Fifteen years later, Tim wasn’t sure he believed Janet’s little saying anymore. Steph was just plain warm. From her head to her toes, her golden skin gave off warmth like she had been laying in the sun all day. Like she held the sun in her chest, and her hair was the yellow rays escaping. His mother and father’s warmth had come and gone with their moods. Stephanie’s was ever present. Even when she was angry, even when she was being cruel, she seemed incapable of being cold whilst being so.

Tim blinked, realising he had completely drifted off and away from the present moment, and was daydreaming again. Stephanie sat with her legs splayed out, still upset but more reserved than before.

"I’m going to go home.” She declared. “And I am going to think it over. Give me a day.”

“You gonna talk to your mom?”

“If I do go through with it, she’ll need to know.” Stephanie shifted, putting on her other shoe. “You’re already on thin ice with her you know. Have been for years.”

Tim was going to tease her and ask why it mattered what her mother thought of him, but like Steph said, he was treading on thin ice. Even getting her to consider it was a victory in his eyes.

She said her goodbye and got up, Tim remaining sat on the floor. Impulsively, she tugged at his hair playfully. Tim may have imagined it, but he felt her hand stroke his hair, like she used to when he’d rest his head on her stomach. It had started when she had pulled him down in her room, on her little bed, to see if he could hear or feel her baby move. It had continued long after the baby had been given up for adoption. She had said his hair was nice to play with.

Stephanie paused, looking down on him.

“You really won’t do it with someone else? Just me?”

“Promise.”

She sighed and went to go. She stopped, blond hair swinging round her shoulders, and looked like she was going to say something else. She thought better of it, and gave a half-hearted wave.

“See you tomorrow.” She uttered, then she was gone.

Tim remained sat on the floor long after she left. He heard her car switch on and roll off, and he remained on the carpet. His mind was racing.

Bruce eventually found him. Out of costume, in a white t-shirt and black trousers, he sat on the loveseat by Tim.

Keeping his head down, Tim spoke.

“She said… she wanted the day to think about it.”

“Okay.”

Tim stared off, knowing Bruce was waiting for him to ask the burning question.

“Why us?”

Tim heard the frame of the seat creak as Bruce shifted. Neither man was looking at the other.

“As I said. I trust you two will do a good job.”

“And no-one else.”

“You work well together.”

“Do we?”

“Tim…”

“She said that she was afraid of how people would react. Poor girl and a rich boy get hitched quickly and all that.”

Bruce’s response was firm and immediate. “I won’t let people think of her that way.”

Tim tilted his head to look at his father, comforted by the protective nature in his tone. “That’s what I said. She didn’t believe me.”

“Hnn.” Bruce placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, and squeezed reassuringly. “She’ll help. She won’t turn away from people in need. I’ll leave you to deal with the… nitty gritty of it all.”

He got up to leave, allowing Tim to brood alone on the floor.

“Bruce?”

Bruce turned, looking at him expectantly. Tim swallowed.

“You honestly think we work well together?”

Bruce chewed his tongue, thinking of how best to respond. “I remember, how happy you made each other, and I trust her with you. You’ll both do well in this.”

And that was all. Tim stared at the now empty doorframe, unsure of what to make of Bruce’s statement. His fingers twitched, craving the warmth of Stephanie’s grip once more.

He couldn’t decide if he was being selfish or not for wanting her to agree to such a silly idea. A silly idea that could save several people down the line. Maybe. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to spend time with her outside of the costume. Only if she wanted it though. He wasn’t that cruel. Falling forward to the floor, butt up in the air, Tim grumbled to himself about how lovesick he was.

Stephanie meanwhile had to pull over halfway home, so emotional that she needed to catch her breath.

This was what was going to bring Tim and her together once more? Another lie?

She couldn’t bare it. To have to pretend to be happy and in love when really what she would be was miserable. But still in love.

She’d never stopped. She still craved his eyes on her (and only her), to hear him say how proud he was.

No.

No, she was past that. That was the point. The point of Batgirl, the point of returning to Gotham.

She rubbed aggressively at her eyes, sat on the layby of the road, and called her mother, unable to wait until she reached home. She put on the speaker, and set the phone on the dashboard.

Her mother had the next three days off, so with some luck she would catch her.

“Hiya Stephie.” She answered. “All good?”

“Yeah. Just driving back.”

“Then why’d you call?”

“I… mom… I’ve been asked to do something. For work.” She clarified. Her mother would understand. “And I’m not sure I should.”

“Why?”

Something in Stephanie snapped, and three years of grief came pouring out. Her mother listened, saying nothing. Stephanie knew that her mother was wary of Tim, of Batgirl, of the whole thing, but she was also the one who could give a somewhat neutral response. As she ranted, Stephanie grew more distressed. She knew from the outside she must have looked like a mad woman, arms flailing and legs kicking. As she drew to a close, Stephanie rested her forehead on the wheel of her car.

“...But I want to help people. And I want to be with him. And I don’t know if that makes me weak.”

“It makes you lovesick.”

Her mother’s tone was soft, sad, and empathetic. Stephanie didn’t know which emotion was comforting and which was upsetting. She sniffed loudly, pressing the heel of the palms of her hands so tightly to her eyes that she saw stars. Crystal was silent, letting her daughter think her rant through. A minute passed, and Stephanie lowered her hands from her eyes, feelings slowly clicking into place.

“Thanks mom.”

“You made your mind up?”

“Yeah.”

Turning her engine back on, she picked up the phone once more. “Gonna be a bit longer until I get back. We need anything from the shops?”

“Another two cartons of milk wouldn’t hurt.”

“’Kay.” She buckled her seatbelt on. “Love you. Bye.”

“Love you too, Stephie. Glutton for punishment that you are.”

Stephanie laughed, then hung up. The smile quickly faded, and she stared at her home screen. Closing her eyes, taking a breath, and flicking her indicator on, she got back on the main road, looking for a place to do a u-turn.

Alfred opened the door to find Stephanie hopping up the steps to the front door, having let her back through the front gates. She smiled bashfully at the butler.

“I’ll inform Master Bruce that you’ve returned.” He said, ushering her inside.

“And Tim?”

“Of course. Make your way to the kitchen, Miss Stephanie. There are some baked goods cooling. You can take some home for you and your mother.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Alfred.”

She perched herself on one of the breakfast bar stools, staring at the banana muffins on the cooling rack. They smelled very good.

Tim arrived first, Bruce following behind. Both men looked expectant.

There was a brief pause as Stephanie collected her words.

“I’ll do it.” Bruce nodded, and Tim, betraying himself utterly, smiled broadly. It made something in her gut jerk, and she continued despite herself. “Only to help you solve the case. You promise to protect me from bad press?”

Bruce’s eyes tightened. “We’ll need a lot of publicity to ensure we capture their attention.”

“Good publicity.”

“Yes.” Stephanie’s eyes flittered to Tim as he moved closer to her, only partially listening to Bruce. “You’ll both have the family clout behind you. Use it.”

“Fine.” She nodded one last time. Tim opened his mouth to say something, but Stephanie turned away to grab one of Alfred’s muffins. Sensing the mood of the room, Bruce left, passing ownership of the task to the two young adults.

Tim moved closer than she would have preferred, close enough to feel his warm breath move her hair, but she still couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Stephanie…”

Taking a large bite, she inspected the granite worktops, finding the little silver glimmers fascinating. Tim saw she was going to be unresponsive. Hating himself a little, he began to dictate their plan going forward.

“We’ll go on a few dates first. People have seen you, me and Cassandra hanging out, so it won’t be a total shock. When do you next have a spare afternoon?”

She bristled at being told what to do in the manner Tim had slipped into, but she answered quietly.

“Thursday.”

“I’ll pick you up from campus. We’ll go to Robinson Park.” Colour rose to Tim’s cheeks as he got lost in his own head. Stephanie continued not to look at him, finding Alfred’s baking less upsetting. He was looking at her longingly. She knew that look well enough that she could sense it on him.

“Sounds good.” She said around a mouthful of muffin.

“You still want me to teach you how to ride my skateboard?”

That got her to look at him. She shook her head, trying not to give in to his puppy dog eyes.

“Tim, not like that. Not with everyone watching.”

This is what she had been dreading. Things she wanted, things she craved, but built on a foundation of lies. She and Tim weren’t going on a real date, so why should she do something she wanted for real? She was fine with lying, she did it every day of her life, but not for this. Not when half-truths were thrown in with Tim.

Tim seemed confused. “You said it just the other day. This is a good as reason as any.” He pushed his way closer into her personal space. Frustratingly, she wasn’t unnerved by it. “Steph… It gets easier. Those guys being around taking photos... Bruce has so much hold over them they don’t come near any of us.”

“Frightened of the big bad bat?”

“More like the billionaire with a big pocket for legal fees.” Tim snorted. “Honest. You’ll forget they’re there.” His tone turned a bit more serious, a bit more somber. “I know the whole thing is…less than ideal. So, let’s try and have some fun, yeah?”

Tim thought he knew that Steph knew that he still loved her. He’d said as much. But that was years ago. He’d also tried to kiss her. But that was also years ago.

Okay, so maybe being forced to get engaged and married wasn’t the best foundation to start a genuine courtship, but Tim could make it work.

So he smiled at her, and Stephanie smiled back. It was genuine.

He could make her happy.

“Okay.” She picked up two muffins to take home. “I’ll see you Thursday then.”

Tim’s smile widened as he watched her go. Mind racing, he twirled around in the kitchen, smacking his hands repeatedly off the counter.

“So… you’re going to tell her that you want to pursue a genuine relationship once this is all over or…?”

Dick’s voice drifted over from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, one foot resting on his other ankle. His body language was casual, but his expression was deadly serious. Tim dismissed his concerns.

“Won’t need to. I will…show her that I am emotionally ready to get back in a relationship with her, and I know she still loves me so… by the end, the lie can be over, and she can ask me.”

“She has to ask you?”

Dick sounded so unapproving that Tim’s hackles rose. He walked around to the other side of the counter, further separating him from his elder brother.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Tim shook his head, baffled. “Because I’m the one doing all the work.”

Dick tilted his head, frustrated with Tim. “Define ‘work’? Buying her a nice dinner counts as work?”

“No! But I… She’s frightened. I’ll prove she doesn’t need to be.”

Dick’s eyes tightened. Like Stephanie, he thought Tim was being awfully naïve. Tim grumbled to himself.

“Just… go do your space adventure. When you come back in two months… you’ll see. We’ll catch the bad guy, innocent people will be saved, the press will love Steph as much as I do, and we’ll be on our merry way to getting out all the bad air between us.”

“By…not talking about the bad air.”

“We’ll talk! She… she has to start it. ‘Cause I did all the talking in the past. It’s her turn now. That’s all.”

Dick chewed on the inside of his cheek. Tim picked up a muffin and threw it at his brother, unable to bear the condescension. “You have no room to judge. I’ve loved her for half my life. I’m not going to have a mission be another nail in the coffin.”

Dick caught the muffin, ripping the top off and inspecting the inside. He turned to go, knowing he would get nowhere with Tim. Once the boy had made his mind up, it took a plan exploding in his face to realise he’d done wrong.

“No,” Dick said, nibbling as he walked away. “You want a lie to be the kiss of life.”

Tim stood in the kitchen, his loneliness creeping up on him. Looking desperately around, he grabbed his own baked good, then rushed downstairs to take his car back to his apartment.

He could make this work.

#dc #TimSteph #Tim Drake #Stephanie Brown #my fic tag #sorry for posting this twice i think i prefer this format for people

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northoftheroad · 6 years ago

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All about Alfred

I’ve come to realize I’ve got some mixed feelings about Alfred. One one hand, I love reading (and writing) his dry snark as much as the next person.

Nightwing vol 2 # 86. By Devin Grayson, art Patrick Zircher, Andy Owens and Sean Parsons.

Nightwing # 141. By Peter J. Tomasi, art Rags Morales and Michael Bair.

Throwing away an empty dish to make a point to Bruce. Priceless. I mean, who can not love this chap?

Batman/TMNT Adventures # 1. By Matthew Manning, art Jon Sommariva.

On the other hand, I think he gets far too much credit. Especially in fanfic. For one thing, it is not humanly possible for one person to take care of the Manor, the cave and everyone in it and, on top of that, bake cookies every day. (Anyone who has ever had an old house knows they are a lot of work, and the Manor and the cave are huge!)

More importantly, if Alfred had been an okay caretaker for Bruce, there wouldn’t be a Batman.

Initially, of course, Alfred (then Beagle) came to the Wayne household after Dick. This was retconned after Crisis on Infinite Earths (1985–1986). Since then, Alfred Pennyworth has raised Bruce after the murder of his parents. And clearly, failed at helping the boy to heal mentally.

Dark Victory has a nice panel where it’s clear he feels he failed Bruce when he was a child, and that he want to do better with Dick.

Dark Victory. By Jeph Loeb, art Tim Sale.

It should also be noted that Alfred originally was nothing like the competent and sassy character we know today. He was more of a blundering, comical figure and when he managed to solve a crime, it was down to pure luck.

To be fair, Alfred has, at times, questioned Bruce.

Nightwing vol 2 # 53. By Devin Grayson, art Rick Burchett and Rodney Ramos.

Batman Chronicles: The Gauntlet. By Bruce Canwell, art Lee Weeks.

But what Alfred mostly does is enabling Bruce, and his taking children into the war on crime. He can be passive-aggressive all he wants, as long as he tidies up the Manor and the cave and cooks and takes the kids to school, he is still making it possible for Bruce to spend his life as Batman – with sidekicks – fighting crime in tights.

Detective Comics # 523. By Gerry Conway, art Gene Colan and Tony DeZuniga.

Batman # 340. By Gerry Conway and Roy Thomas, art Gene Colan and Adrian Gonzales.

Batman vol 3 # 58. By Tom King, art Mikel Janín.

Once, Alfred actually had enough and left Bruce. Not because he kicked Dick out and told him to leave the key, not when he let younger teenager Jason become Robin shortly after he deemed the position too dangerous for Dick, not when Jason was killed, not when he fired Tim and made Stephanie a very temporary Robin, or any other time when Bruce has been an ass to one of his fellow humans.

No, the tipping point for Alfred is when Bruce does not take care of himself.

In Batman # 440, when Bruce is shattered after Jason’s death and is careless and gets hurt a lot, Alfred threatens to leave. ”I do not intend to spend the rest of my life playing nurse.”

Batman # 440. By Marv Wolfman and George Pérez, art Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo.

Now, we all know that Tim turns up and becomes Robin, and Batman needs a Robin, so things look up for a period. However, Alfred finally carries out his threat to leave during Knightfall. Once again, the reason is that he thinks Bruce is self-destructive. After Bane broke his back, Bruce and Alfred travel to the Caribbean and England to search for Jack Drake and Shondra Kinsolving, Bruce’s physical therapist and current love interest. Finally, while in England, Alfred has had it with Bruce’s refusal to rest and recuperate; he resigns.

Shadow of the Bat # 31. By Alan Grant, art Bret Blevins.

Incidentally, you didn’t think that Bruce actually would search out Alfred and have a heart-to-heart about this, did you? Didn’t think so. (In Dick’s words, Bruce has too much respect for Alfred even to try to find out where Alfred went. Not unlike how Bruce wants to respect Dick’s wishes to have nothing to do with the family after he was shot in the head, recently. Now, you can discuss if this is respect or emotional cowardice. But that is another story.)

Of course, it’s Dick who goes to London and talks to Alfred. Possibly Dick wants him back because he doesn’t want to be stuck cooking, washing, and taking care of the Manor again, as he did when he and Tim were Batman and Robin in Knightfall Prodigal…

Batman # 513. By Doug Moench, art Mike Gustovich and Romeo Tanghal.

Anyway, the Alfred and Dick duo averts an anti-European Union terrorist attack and a military coup in the United Kingdom. In the end, Alfred goes back to Gotham.

Nightwing: Alfred’s Return. By Alan Grant, art Dick Giordano.

Alfred also leaves Wayne Manor another time, this time on Bruce’s order, to live with Tim at his boarding school Brentwood Academy. He leaves Tim and returns to Gotham when Bruce is accused of murder in ”Bruce Wayne: Murderer”.

Robin # 98. By Chuck Dixon, art Pete Woods and Andrew Pepoy.

Now, I’m not saying that he didn’t have his priorities right, in this instance. But Bruce always comes first, second, third and fourth for Alfred. The Manor probably takes a measly fifth place.

This boils down to that Alfred is a flawed character. Which is good, right? It makes him more relatable and interesting. He can be cool and sassy and still have done a poor job of helping Bruce to heal after his parents’ murder, and he lets Bruce get away with far too much in his relationship with the family. I still have a lot of love for Alfred. I’m just a teeny bit annoyed when he is put on a pedestal.

And damn it, Bruce. Get some more hired help to take care of Wayne Manor. At least hire a few gardeners and take in some cleaning staff. Alfred isn’t getting any younger, you know...

This blog post is dedicated to Lightsider, who has written some of my favourite Batman/Young Justice the tv version-fics (do give them a try, you’ll find them on fanfic.net and AO3). It was exchanging comments about one of them that I got the idea to write this.

#Alfred Pennyworth #Batman #Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Nightwing #Robin #Tim Drake

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spooder-moon · 7 years ago

Text

Becoming - Part Four Jason Todd x Bat!Reader

Summary: You had been best friends with Jason Todd for as long as you could remember, things changed when he became Robin for sure, but they changed even more when he became the Red Hood.

A/N: Hey Guys! Sorry to anyone whose been waiting for this part, I went overseas for a few weeks and didn't take my laptop with me so I wasn’t able to write anything! Also sorry that this chapter is so fkn long, I got carried away. Also first time writing smut so please give feedback. Enjoy!! xxx

Word Count: 4.5k (I'm sorry)

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (as promised)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six

*3 years later*

Gotham was a mess, when was it not. Crime bosses were thriving more than ever, the Black Mask in control of it all. And then there was this Red Hood guy who had decided to show up and take matters into his own hands.

Batman and Nightwing had just come back from a mission at the docks, you had been told to stay back at the batcave, Batman wanted to go solo on this one but needed you for intel. However, Dick had decided to come back to Gotham for a month, and he barely follows Bruce’s orders anymore, let alone yours.

“That Red Hood is a pain in my ass, literally. And seriously, what the fuck does one do with a weapon like that?” Dick said, announcing his arrival. He was talking about an Android that had the ability to absorb other heroes super powers, and it would have kicked his butt if batman hadn’t blown it’s head off.

“I mean, I’m guessing use it to try and take down Batman,” you replied, turning around in your chair to face him.

“Ok smart-ass, don’t get smug with me. I would’ve loved to see you try take it down.”

“Bet I could have done a better job than you.” You grinned, the playful banter between you two always lightening your mood.

Dick came up and gave you a big bear hug, “It’s good to see you Y/N.” You stood up to hug him back.

“Yeah yeah, you too.” You hadn’t seen him in about 3 months, you missed him you had to admit - but you’d never tell him that.

“Hey Alfred!” You heard Dick say to the man behind you as you pulled away from the hug.

“Good to see you Master Richard.”

“Great, now that everyone has said hello, Y/N tell me what you know about the Red Hood.” Bruce said gruffly.

Sitting back down in your seat you got up some footage of what had just happened at the docks.

“There’s no trace of him anywhere, every diagnostic I’ve run has come up blank. The interesting part though is that when he took out his men to stop them from talking he could have easily shot you both right there. Instead he let the android have it’s fun. He’s clearly skilled and well trained, those sniper shots were from about 3 blocks away, so it doesn’t make sense as to why he wouldn’t just kill you. Maybe he’s an old enemy from the past? Someone you put in Arkham that wants revenge? I’m not sure but he’s clearly playing a game here.” You told them everything you knew about him which, if you’re being honest, wasn’t much at all. “From what I can tell from his antics with Gotham’s underground, he’s wanting to take out the black mask. Honestly it’s hard to tell who’s side he’s on. He’s stopped drug trading for minors but takes 40% of all other proceeds.”

Bruce grunted, “If he kills he’s not on our side. We’re done for the night, tomorrow you can keep looking for clues as to who he is and what he wants.”

You nodded, shutting down the bat cave computer.

…

The next night you were listening for the bug that Bruce had planted in the Black Masks office.

“Batman, there’s a trade tonight that the black mask is operating. I don’t doubt that the Red Hood will be there to take it down. If you want to catch him this is your chance.” You said over the intercom that Bruce and Dick were on the other side of.

“We’re on our way now, I need you to come out and tale us from a distance in case we lose him. Make sure he doesn’t know you’re there until you can catch him.”

Following Bruce’s orders you quickly got into your costume, grabbing your throwing knives - which you preferred to batarangs - and any other weapons you think you’ll need. You say a quick goodbye to Alfred as he takes over your place at the computer, before hoping on your bike and speeding out of the cave.

You followed Batman and Nightwing from the ground as they chased the Red Hood over rooftops, all the while keeping your distance, sticking to alleyways and always being at least 3 moves behind. It wasn’t until you saw the train station explode that you jumped into action.

You heard Bruce cough through the intercom, “Redwing, we’ve lost him and Nightwing is injured. I need you to-“

“I’m already on it, he’s in my sights.” You interrupted Bruce as you started the chase. You knew better than to be obvious when trying to chase him. Contrary to Bruce’s tactics you preferred to be sneaky and catch when they least expected it.

Tracking his path you took the opposite one, as he turned down a thin alleyway you were there to cut him off before he could make it all the way through. Quickly, you threw a knife at his front tire, countering it and causing Red Hood to fly over the front of his bike with an “Oh shit” which you managed to catch.

Hoping off your own bike you were quick to knock him down with a hard hit to his chest before he could start running again. As he landed on his back winded you caught Batman’s attention through the intercom. “Batman, I’ve got hi- ah.”

Red Hood had kicked your legs out from underneath you and started to scale up the fire escapes on the side of the apartment building you were next too. “Nevermind,” you groaned to Bruce as you got up ready for a chase. Grabbing your grappling hook you followed him up the side of the building, arriving at the top at the same time he did. It surprised you when he didn’t run like you were expecting. Instead he stood facing you, his body ready to fight but not as tense as it had been while he had been fighting Batman and Nightwing earlier. You took the first swing, you knew hitting his helmet would probably hurt your hand more than it did his head so, you aimed at his side. You managed to hit him but he moved away before the force could do any damage. Red Hood continued to block all your attacks but seemed to never hit first. It confused you, frustrated you, made you more aggressive even. This wasn’t anything new, you often found that some crooks would go easier on you because you were a woman, thinking they didn’t need as much force to take you down. You made a point to always prove them wrong, you were just as dangerous as Nightwing, if not more when it came to your apparent anger issues. The men who went easy on you always lived to regret it.

“Redwing, what’s going on?” You heard Bruce through the intercom. “Kind of in the middle of something here Bats.” You grunted as you blocked a punch coming your way. Finally, you thought, he decided to play fair. Something about the way he fought was familiar to you, as if you’d seen him in action before. And it was clear that he had been trained by someone of immense skill.

You didn’t see the fist coming from your right until it was too late and it smacked your jaw. Ouch, he’s gonna regret that. Recovering quickly you jumped and landed a round-house kick on his chest, it was enough force for him to stumble closer to the wall behind him. Without even thinking you grabbed one of your knives and launched it at him. It lodged itself through his shoulder and into the wall behind him, pinning him to it.

You heard him grunt in pain. “Oh you play dirty, I bet old Bats doesn’t like that.” You could hear the smugness in his voice, you frowned as you walked closer to him.

“Game over Red Hood, how does jail sound to you? Cosy?” You were inches apart now, oh how badly you wanted you take off that helmet and see who was underneath. But you let your guard down, Red Hood ripped the blade our of his shoulder and pushed you against the wall instead, you stopped moving when you felt your own knife pressing into your neck. The Red Hood starting to say some snarky reply but paused when you turned to look at him properly.

“Y/N?” He questioned in disbelief. You’re heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t because he knew your name, although that was alarming, but no, it was the way he said it. That voice, it was so eerily familiar, it was a voice that you knew you had heard before, but this time it was deeper.

“How do you know my name?” You questioned in a whisper.

He ignored your question, “Seriously?! You’re working for the fucking Bat now? Of all the people, he recruited you?” He seemed shocked and angry through you weren’t sure at who.

You repeated your question, this time louder and harsher, “How do you know my name?”

He laughed, “Oh Y/N, I know more than just your name. I know you better than you know yourself, or at least, I used you.”

“WHO ARE YOU?” You were angry now, and curious. Who the fuck was this guy?

“Nuh-uh-uh, not yet. This is way too much fun.” The amusement in his voice was irritating. You struggled in his hold trying to get free but stopped when you felt the knife pressing harder into your skin. “I’m going to let you go now and then I’m going to disappear and you’re not going to follow me, OK?” You grunted in agreement.

“Great, before I go, I need you to do one last thing for me.”

The way he said that made you tense up, it was too familiar, you felt bile rising in your throat at the thought of what he was going to say next. You stared at him, eyes blazing and begging him not to do it.

“Kiss me.”

Jason.

…

You blacked out after that. You weren’t sure if he’d hit you on the head or if it was just from shock, but you woke up in your bed at the manor with Dick staring over you. Before you could finish sitting up you felt the bile rising at the back of your throat again and you sprinted to the bathroom. You felt Dick come in and hold your hair back and you started to cry thinking of tonights events. It couldn’t possibly be true, Jason is gone, dead is dead.

“Y/N, what happened out there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Him and Bruce had obviously heard it through the intercom and come to find you after you stopped responding.

“He knew my name Dick, how did he know my name?” You muttered out, cleaning yourself up at the sink. He said he used to know me, recognised me even with my mask on, and what he said to me. Only one person has ever said that to me, and that person is dead.” He knew you were talking about Jason, he could see it in your eyes. You got the same look every time you spoke about him, it was as if the life in you momentarily drained from your body, and suddenly you were back to that girl who almost killed herself 3 and a half years ago.

You shook the thought from your mind. “It’s not him, it can’t be him. Jason is gone, dead is dead.” You found yourself saying this over and over, as if trying to make yourself believe it was true.

“It wasn’t him Y/N, someone was just messing with you, it couldn’t have been him.” Dick spent the night reassuring you until you fell asleep from exhaustion.

…

The next night Dick went back to Blüdhaven to recover from his injuries. You had ventured down to the batcave just in time to catch Batman sneaking out. “Where are you going? Should I put my suit on?” You questioned Bruce, it wasn’t an unusual thing for him to leave on a mission without telling anyone, he still has ideals about working alone.

“Nowhere, no, just stay here.” His voice was stern.

You looked at the computer, seeing that whatever he had planned for tonight was still up there. He had received a calling from the Red Hood. “You’re going to see him? Why can’t I come?”

“I know what happened last night, and I have my suspicions too but you’re too close to this. You’re letting you’re feelings cloud you’re judgement.”

You looked at Bruce in disbelief, “I’m letting my feelings cloud my judgement?! You’re the one about to go help him fight off the Black Mask’s men!” You were outraged by how hypocritical he was being.

“This isn’t up for discussion, stay here or else.” With that he hopped into his Batmobile and sped off, leaving you in the dust. He should know that you weren’t going to listen to him, not when it came to this. With a huff you went to get changed into your costume, waiting 10 minutes before following him with the GPS tracker you had on him.

As you arrived at the scene of the fight Batman and Red Hood were already well engaged in battle. You watched from the rooftops as Batman jumped through a car thrown at him. Ok, that was pretty cool. You couldn’t help but admire the way Batman fought, you always had. But watching the Red Hood work was enchanting almost, he was fluid in his motions and not as aggressive as Batman, it almost calmed you in a sense.

You were distracted from your thoughts when the Red Hood blew up one guys head, you had to move out of the way as to not get sprayed with blood. You listened to them talk, how Batman tried to reason with the Red Hood but he wasn’t having any of it, instead launching a smoke bomb and disappearing into the night. You were quick to see where he went and even quicker to follow his movements. You almost didn’t see Batman pick up the blade that had sliced the Red Hood’s arm.

You followed Red Hood through the streets of Gotham, making sure to be quiet and kept unseen, from what you could tell he hadn’t noticed you following him yet. He parked his bike in an alleyway behind your old apartment building. What was he doing here? You thought as you observed from across the road. You lost him when he went inside the complex.

It was now or never, you were going to confront him. You took a chance by climbing up the fire escape to your old apartment. If he was who you thought he was, he’d be there. You were quiet to sneak through the window of your old living room, you froze as you saw him standing with his back to you at the other end of the room. You saw him lift his head up and his shoulders square, he knew you were there.

“You’re not as sneaky as you think.” The Red Hood said without turning around, his voice still muffled by the helmet he wore.

“Why let me follow you here then?” You asked quietly.

“You could say I’m particularly fond of my memories here, there’s a specific one that draws me here.” He was talking about your first kiss with Jason.

“Who are you?” You questioned.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” he was right, you just didn’t want to admit it.

“Take off your helmet.” Your voice was firm, it wasn’t a request, it was a demand.

He chuckled but obliged your order. His hands rose to the back of his head as he released the mechanism keeping the helmet together. Taking off the helmet to reveal the jet black hair you knew all too well, he placed it on the kitchen bench in front of him.

“Turn around.”

He did, slowly. Even though he still wore a domino mask you recognised him instantly. He was just as beautiful as you had remembered him, only now more rugged, older, his jawline sharper, he was absolutely stunning.

“Your turn,” he gestured to your domino mask which you pulled off gently after a moment of hesitation. You heard his breath hitch, “You’re even more beautiful than I remember Y/N.”

You walked up to him slowly until you were chest to chest. Gently, you reached your hands up to take off his own mask which he let you. When you finally saw his whole face and saw his stunning blue eyes up close you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your cheek.

“Jason.” You breathed. “How is this even possible? How are you al-.”

You were cut off by his lips pressing harshly onto yours, you froze for a second, shocked by the abruptness of it, but the warmth that spread through you made you melt into him. As soon as he felt you kiss back Jason’s hands where clasped tightly onto your hips, drawing you closer every second. Your arms circled around his neck, one hand playing with the thick black locks you loved so much, and the other leaving light scratches on his upper back.

The kiss became harsh, desperate, the need you two had for each other so undeniably strong. Your head was fuzzy as millions of questions ran through it. Has he been alive all this time? If so, why has he only just surfaced? Your thoughts were interrupted when Jason drew your hips together, and lightly grinded against you, testing new waters. You gasped at the action and Jason took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours in a battle for dominance which he eventually won.

You both pulled away slowly, gasping for air and cheeks flushed in a warm glow. As you looked Jason in the eyes you saw a vulnerability you’d never seen before.

“Please, I need you. Let me have you.” His voice was just above a whisper. So many conflicting thoughts ran through your mind in that moment. You knew it was wrong, you didn’t even know if he was the same person, you didn’t know what he had done these past years. But you thought about all the pain it had caused you when he died and you realised you would do anything for just one night with him. You would deal with the consequences tomorrow.

Without saying anything in response you crashed your lips back to his, this time more feverish and needy than before. When he realised you were his for the taking Jason lifted your legs around his waist and backed you into a nearby wall, you crashed against it hard but you barely registered the pain - too focused on Jason. Your chests were flush against one another as your hips started to grind in sync. Jason let out a low groan which instantly shot right to your core. He pulled away from your lips and looked you in the eyes, asking one last time for permission. His eyes were clouded with lust and something else, you were sure yours looked the same when you nodded in consent. His lips dove to your jawline kissing and sucking harshly down your neck until your suit got in the way. Jasons hand snuck up to your neck line and gently began to pull down the zipper of your suit, until it stopped at your utility belt. With both hands he pushed the suit over your shoulders and down your arms leaving you in your bra with the bottom half of the suit still on. You were quick to respond by pushing his leather jacket off of his shoulders and letting it drop to the ground behind him. He began taking off his armoured top as you undid your utility belt and threw it across the room blindly. As his top came off the first thing you noticed was the scars that littered his torso, your eyes narrowed in on the fresh was you had given him just days prior. You leaned forward to kiss it gently, receiving a sharp intake of breath from him.

“Sorry about that,” and you were, although you couldn’t help the slight smirk that appeared when you thought about it.

He grunted, “You could have hit my heart you know.”

Your lips started trailing up his neck and his breathing became shallower. “I have great aim.”

You connected your lips again, you felt Jason move you away from the wall and start walking towards the bedroom. He gently placed you down on your old bed. Hovering over you he started to leave open mouth kisses down your body until he reached the end of your zipper, looking up at you he started to pull the rest of your costume from your body, with your help you were left in your bra and panties lying before him. Jason took a moment to admire your womanly body and how perfect you were to him. He lay between your legs as he began kissing up your thighs to where you needed him most. As he got closer, your breathing became more ragged with every kiss until a gentle kiss over your clothed core elicited a low moan from you. Without teasing any further Jason ripped the panties from your body and dove his tongue into your wet core, earning a loud gasp of pleasure in return. As Jason lapped at your folds you arched your back to rid yourself of your bra. One hand found itself locked in Jason’s hair, and the other massaging your breast and playing with your nipple. You couldn’t help the loud moan that escaped your lips when Jason suddenly slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping roughly and sucking on your clit. As you tugged his hair harshly he moaned, the vibrations adding to the tight coil quickly building in you.

“Fuck, Jay, I’m gonna-.” Just as you were about to hit your high Jason pulled away from you entirely. You looked up with hooded lids to see him hastily ridding himself of his pants and his boxers, his impressive length slapped against his stomach and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him. Jason moved to hover over you and you felt him brush against you just slightly, making you sigh.

Jason smashed his lips back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as you reached your arm down to grab his length, you pumped him a few times earning a loud groan from the back of his throat. Not being able to wait any longer you guided him to your entrance and he slowly pushed in, stretching you out as you winced slightly before sighing in pleasure. Jason moaned against you as he pushed all the way in before halting. He pulled away from your lips to look at you.

“Are you ok?” He mumbled, voice laced with ecstasy.

“I’m perfect,” you moaned out. That was all he needed to start moving.

As he slowly started to move in and out of you his head fell to the crook of your neck where his lips sucked at your skin. Your face contorted into one of pleasure, a light frown on your forehead and lips parted slightly, occasionally letting small whimpers and moans slip past them.

“Faster Jay, please, faster.” Your words came out breathless, you didn’t even know if he’d be able to hear them but when he started to pick up the pace you knew he had.

Your body started to rock back and forth, your hips moving to meet his in perfect sync. Everything felt perfect, like this is how it was meant to be, like you two were made for each other.

Without pulling away from each other you rolled until you were on top. Your hands planted firmly on his chest and his gripping your waist, guiding your hips up and down onto him. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his eyes were closed tight and lips were parted to allow to shallow irregular breathing. The sight of him below you was so breathtakingly sexy it almost had you reaching your high right there. You continued to pick up the pace, you both of you were quickly starting to become undone. Jason quickly rolled the two of you over again, taking control once more to start slamming into you. You felt the heat building in your abdomen, it was like nothing you had experienced before, never this intense.

Your walls started to clench around him and your nails left deep scratches in his shoulders, he let out a loud groan at the new feeling. “Jay I’m close. Fuck, don’t stop,” you managed to whimper out in your dazed state.

“Fuck Baby, I know, me too.” Hearing him call you baby sent you over the edge a few hard and long thrusts later, screaming his name you reached your high and your walls clenched tight around him. Jason came soon after, grunting your name and biting into your shoulder as he spilled inside of you.

He continued to thrust sloppily, bringing you both down from your highs. You winced slightly as he pulled out of your overly sensitive warmth before he collapsed on top of you, your bodies slick with sweat and smelling of sex. You ran your hands through his hair as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, lightly kissing and nipping at the skin there.

As you lay there in silence, chests heaving together the questions rushed back. Your mind was going crazy thinking about what had just happened but more importantly what would happen next. Would you wake up in the morning to find him gone, or would you leave first? Does this mean you two can finally be together after all these years? Was Jason even the same person? Did this actually mean anything? Would things change completely now or just stay the same?

As if sensing that your thoughts were racing Jason lifted his head to hover above yours. His eyes searched every detail of your face as if finally seeing you after all this time, and yours did the same. You moved your hands to cradle his face, your right thumb stroking his cheek. Jason closed his eyes at the soft caress before leaning down to connect his lips to yours once more. This kiss was so much different from the rest, it wasn’t rushed or desperate, it wasn’t filled with the need to be as physically close as possible. No. This kiss was soft and slow and filled with hope. A hope you needed so badly in that moment.

Tag list:

@allithewriter @batboys-and-other-messes @probsjosh @sleep-depiravation @yoursturelys

#red hood #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood imagine #Jason Todd #jason todd smut #jason todd imagines #jason todd x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagines #nightwing #nightwing x reader #the dark knight #batman #batman imagine #batboys #batboy imagines #arkham knight

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sassycassie-s-writing · 6 years ago

Text

He’s Alive

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood feat. Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Rating: PG-11/T- (minor violence)

Original Idea: Arkham Knight audio files

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I don’t really know or care about the correctness of the difference between referring to Batman as Batman or The Batman, but sometimes Star Beam is just annoying to be annoying. @welovegroot @batboys-and-other-messes

^^^^^

I woke up tied to a chair.

I wish I could say it was an uncommon experience.

Or even the first time that happened.

But I couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t.

I grunted in displeasure and vague boredom as my eyes adjusted to the light. And by light I mean the dim incandescent lightbulb hanging bare from a cord on the ceiling. I blinked a few times until my eyes no longer burned from the light.

“Good morning, Star Beam,” an eerie voice said from the shadows. “Do I call you Miss Beam? Miss Star? Do you have a preference?”

“Fight me,” I snarled, struggling against the chains holding me to the chair.

“Oh, you’ll find that’s quite impossible. Those chains are fitted with a dampener chip that suppresses your metahuman powers, Miss Beam,” the same eerie voice informed me condescendingly. The face that belonged to the voice loomed from the shadows.

Or rather, the mask.

Scarecrow.

Great. This guy again. I’d already wiped the floor with that ugly burlap mask used to scare people on three separate occasions in the last year alone and I was really getting tired of him.

He was like that one guy in the friendzone who kept trying to escape it but he wasn’t actually in the friendzone, he was just in the Oh my WORD, go away dude zone. Almost every girl knows a guy like that eventually. And probably some guys know too—but I don’t really know since I’ve never asked.

“What do you want, Crane?” I demanded. “What was so important that you decided to invest in expensive power-dampeners to get fifteen minutes with me?”

Scarecrow scoffed. “You think that’s how long this is going to last?”

“Yup,” I said, popping the p just to be annoying.

“Nope,” Scarecrow retorted, also popping the p. “Miss Beam, you’re going to be here for ages, until such a time as I deem it right to release you.”

Like that’s going to happen, I thought while rolling my eyes.

Scarecrow got really up-close-and-personal in my face. “Now, tell me, Miss Star Beam, who is the Batman?”

“Okay, I’m gonna correct you there. He is not the Batman. He’s just Batman, got it?” I snapped. “Honestly, it drives me crazy that everyone’s always like, ‘the Batman.’ It makes him sound like he’s half-bat half-human. Which is ridiculous and false.” I struggled against the chains again, trying to remember the escapology Bruce had showed me. I hadn’t paid very good attention back then because I’d thought I’d always have my powers so I could use them to pick locks and such.

I’d need to run a refresher course when I got back to the cave.

IF you get back to the cave, idiot, a snide voice of self-doubt hissed in the back of my mind.

Shut up, I retorted.

Well whose fault was it that you ended up captured in the first place?

Zip it.

“You didn’t answer my question, Star Beam. Who. Is. Batman?” Scarecrow pressed.

I arched my back and squirmed, trying to stretch out. I was stiff from being lashed to the chair. “Why do you assume I even know? You really think Batman would have a security risk like that running around?” I was rambling. Stalling for time. If I didn’t report back to Alfred every half-hour, he’d send Batman after the chip in my suit—which I was still wearing. Thank the heavens this wasn’t one of the times I woke up tied to a chair in my underwear and sports bra. “Like, seriously. One of the best detective minds in the world who’s just gonna be like, ‘Oh yeah, this little girl with weird powers can totally know who I am under this mask. I’m sure that won’t be a problem,’” I growled in my best Batman voice.

Okay, so my Batman impression wasn’t stellar, but it wasn’t terrible either.

Scarecrow stared at me. I wondered vaguely what his expression looked like underneath the mask. Was he irritated? Angry? I couldn’t tell.

He sighed finally. “Shame. I was so hoping my preferred method wasn’t going to be necessary. That you’d give up the information willingly. Though, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. The Batman somehow manages to instill a strange sense of loyalty in his followers.”

“You say that like he’s an internet personality,” I remarked.

Scarecrow revealed one of the syringes on his hand—the kind that would inject me with a concentrated dose of his fear toxin that would probably nearly kill me. “Enough of your silly little games, Star Beam,” he snapped. “You’re going to tell me who Batman is, and you’re going to do it now.” He lifted the syringe and held it toward me.

The door was kicked open. “Get the H*&% away from her!” a voice ordered.

The newcomer was tall. Not quite as tall as Bruce, but only shorter by a couple inches. He was also absolutely ripped—to the point where I thought it looked uncomfortable.

But I couldn’t describe his face because I couldn’t see it. He wore a scarlet helmet over his entire head. Frustrating, not to know who was under there. I supposed that was how a lot of people felt about Batman. Hmm.

Scarecrow snickered and backed away. “As you wish, Red Hood.”

“Let me talk to her. Alone. See if I can get it out of her in a different way,” Red Hood said.

Scarecrow moved to leave. “Alright. But when she proves uncooperative, we’ll do this my way.” He slid out and slammed the metal door behind him.

Red Hood sat opposite me on another metal chair, lounging on it casually. He tsked. “Oh Star Beam. You’ve really gotten yourself in a pickle this time, haven’t you?”

I wriggled and leaned my head back away from him. “Uh… I guess?” I said.

He sighed and shook his head, looking down. “No, no. You’re doing it wrong. You’re supposed to keep me talking. Or talk yourself. That’s what Bruce taught you to do right? Bide your time till he shows up to get you.”

I blinked. “B-Bruce?” I stammered.

Red Hood snickered. “Yeah. Scarecrow doesn’t know that I know. Let’s just keep it our little secret, okay?” he asked.

I cleared my throat. “Who are you?” I asked.

I heard an exhale that could have counted as a snort of amusement. “You don’t even recognize my voice anymore. I suppose that’s okay. It’s been a long time since the last time you heard it. I was just a teenager back then.”

Red Hood pressed the side of his helmet. The mask at the front opened up.

I gasped and lurched backward, the legs of my chair screeching on the concrete floor. “J-Jason?”

A leather-gloved hand reached up and stroked my face, pausing with fingertips at the seam where my mask met skin. I really hoped he wasn’t going to remove it. That wouldn’t be good. “Hey Star Beam,” he greeted, voice soft and gentle but with an underlying hostility and aggression I didn’t trust at all.

“You’re… you’re supposed to be dead,” I breathed, unable to think of anything else to say.

Jason shrugged. “Didn’t take,” he said. “Listen, don’t count on Batman to come save you. I thought he’d save me too but that didn’t turn out so well. Figure out how to get out on your own.”

“I’m trying. There’s a power-dampener on the chains. I can’t pick the lock with my telekinesis.”

“Well try harder. I don’t want Scarecrow to have you in here.”

“Oh, so just because it’s me you want to help.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“For my survival, yes. But what if it was Dick? Or some random civilian? Would you be encouraging them to escape?”

“Unknown, Star Beam. Because they’re not here and you are.” He reached forward and pulled the bobby pin out of my hair and slid it down my arm and into my hand where it was tied behind my back. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I still love you.”

“Don’t want to hear that my boyfriend from when I was fifteen still loves me even though he’s allied himself with one of my enemies. Hmm,” I said.

“Pick the lock, escape the dampener, and then you high-tail it out of here, you hear? My alliance with Scarecrow is necessary. You don’t know what happened to me when I was brought back to life. I’d been hollowed out. Still am. The only thing that’s left of who I was is my love for you. Somehow that survived.” He kissed my forehead. “Now go.” He straightened up, shut his helmet, and left the room. “Give her a few minutes to stew over my threat in solitude, she’ll come around,” Jason said to Scarecrow. The metal door slammed with a heavy thunk!

I fiddled with the bobby pin, breaking it to use as a lock-pick. Lucky for me picking locks was about feeling and not seeing because I couldn’t see what I was doing. Just had to feel for the tumblers.

The locks released. I sighed in relief and quietly slid out of the chains, trying to make them clink as little as possible.

I rolled my wrists, stretching them out and calling on my powers. Silver-white light danced around my fingers. I grinned. “I’m back,” I whispered.

I stole over to the window. The bars were too narrow for me to slip through and the glass appeared to be ballistic glass—bulletproof.

I smirked. “Good thing my powers have nothing to do with bullets,” I mused.

I bent my knees and made a telekinetic shield in front of me.

With a single shove of my hands in which I touched nothing, I tore the bars and glass out of the window. There was a horrible wrenching and crashing noise as the bars and glass broke free. The rubble ricocheted off my shield.

The door burst open behind me. The shield swung around to protect my back. “Get her!” Scarecrow shouted. “This is why telekinetics are cheaters, Hood!”

I laughed and launched myself out the window. I didn’t even care where I was or how high up. I was getting out. “Woooooo-Hoooooo!” I called as I fell through the air. A cushion of silver-white telekinetic energy pillowed my landing, but I tuck-and-rolled anyway for the sake of my knees and the fact that I was really stiff from sitting in that chair for too long.

Bullets followed after me as I took cover with an, “Eeep!” and threw up another shield.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” I heard Jason shout. The bullets ceased. “Anyone hurts her and they’re gonna deal with me!”

I did a quick stretch and took off running. “GO AFTER HER!” Scarecrow shrieked.

“But don’t you dare shoot her!” Red Hood added.

I leapt over a busy street of cars with the help of my powers and kept running. I had to get out of the city. Into the woods… if I could make it up into the branches of the canopy they’d have a harder time tracking me… get back to the Batcave.

I careened around a corner—

Only to be grabbed, a hand wrapping around my mouth to muffle my shriek and throwing me against a wall.

A familiar figure towered over me, holding me still and keeping my mouth shut. There was a smile on his face and a blue domino mask over his eyes—which were blue underneath. His hair was black. He was about five-ten and slender—fluid lines and lean muscle. Not bulky and jacked like Jason.

I pushed his hand off my mouth. “Dick?!” I scream-whispered.

“Hey Star Beam. Who’re you running from?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you that scared since the first time you sparred with B on Beast Mode.”

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop panting. “I’m running… from… Jason,” I got out through my heavy breathing. “Because… y’know… no one bothered to tell me that he’s still alive.” Dick took a step back, letting me go completely.

“Well, technically, he’s not ‘still’ alive. He did actually die. But then he got brought back. Long story. Quick version: reality got a little altered which brought him back to life and then he took a dip in the Lazarus Pit to heal,” Dick explained. I blinked. This was a lot to process. I wasn’t feeling too hot anyway, but this was a lot. I leaned against the wall and put my hand on the bricks behind me, looking for solidarity.

I took another deep breath. “Okay…” I breathed. “And no one thought to tell me this… why?!” It took all my self-control not to lose my cool. Not to scream at him and shout. But we were still hiding from Scarecrow and Jason’s goons.

“I, uh, I’ll have to let B explain that one. C’mon. Let’s get out of here. You good to keep moving?”

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Okay great. Let’s move.”

I followed him up the fire escape of the building he’d pinned me to. We leapt over rooftops and across alleys with agility—and telekinesis in my case—before coming to a stop in Crime Alley. Below us, in an alley, was the Batmobile. Dick took the fire escape down. I just jumped and used my powers to cushion my fall.

“Now what?” I asked, upon finding the Batmobile was empty.

“We wait for approximately fifteen seconds,” Dick said.

One. Two. Three…

Jason was alive. What was I supposed to be thinking?

Four. Five. Six…

More than just alive—working with Scarecrow as the Red Hood.

Seven. Eight. Nine…

He’d had guns strapped to his thighs. Guns. Jason hadn’t been taught how to fight with guns. What was going on?

Ten. Eleven. Twelve…

I was too overwhelmed for any of this. I needed to go home and get some sleep.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen…

“Okay. It’s been fifteen seconds and he’s still not here,” I said to Dick. “Now what?”

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eight—

“Nightwing. Star Beam. What are you doing here?” a deep voice said. I whirled around to see Batman looming in the darkness of the alley.

Dick leaned against the Batmobile, spinning one eskrima stick around his hand casually. “Hey B. Guess who just found out your son is alive?”

Batman looked at me. “Are you going to lash out or are you going to let me explain?” he asked.

“Both?” I suggested.

“Alright. Let’s get somewhere safe first. Pile in, you two.”

#He's Alive #Jason Todd #Jason Todd Imagine #Jason Todd FanFiction #Red Hood #Red Hood Imagine #Red Hood FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction #featuring #Dick Grayson #Nightwing

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rivanwarrioress · 7 years ago

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Revelations (Part 2) (Jason Todd x Reader)

SUMMARY: Sequel to Welcome to Gotham. A quiet night alone leads to unexpected revelations about Jason’s history and nighttime activities. Read Part 1 of Revelations first please, otherwise this might not make sense.

WORD COUNT: 2,607

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything, recognizable characters and places are the property of their creators

Unable to bring yourself to even attempt sleep, you scrubbed the floors of your apartment, getting rid of the bloodstains as best you could. Then, incapable of stopping yourself, you pulled on one of Jason’s leather jackets, and went up the stairs to the roof access of your apartment building. Few people ever went up here, although on numerous occasions, during the summer, you and Jason had often made an easy to transport dinner, and then gone up to the roof together, and had a picnic. Those nights had been among your favorite of your dates with Jason.

Now, you sat up there alone, Jason’s jacket wrapped around you, as tears leaked from your eyes, oblivious to the rain that fell around you, drenching your hair and seeping into your clothing, the dampness soon soaking through your pants. Your phone, at least, was marginally protected, tucked in a pocket of Jason’s jacket, with your hand wrapped around it, just in case somebody rang to update you on how Jason was doing.

There was a part of you that wondered if you would ever see Jason again. You remembered the bat on the front of Jason’s armor, and knew after living in Gotham for over a year, that The Red Hood was a member of “team Batman,” so you figured that Batman and his associates would look after Jason, but you were scared that even Batman wouldn’t be able to save him, that Jason was too badly hurt, and he’d lost too much blood. Would the superheroes take him away and deal with his body in their own, secretive way, or would you be allowed to be there when they buried him, or cremated him, or whatever it was they did with their dead?

You didn’t know what Jason’s wishes were. The one time you had brought up the topic of cemeteries you had taken one look at Jason’s face, and swiftly changed the topic. You wondered now if Jason’s reaction that day had been related to his history as the Red Hood.

You had guessed that Jason had gone through a traumatic past. On the few nights when he’d slept at your apartment he’d woken up with nightmares every single time. Even when he was awake sometimes you would say something, or he would see something, and he would space out, sometimes for a few seconds, but occasionally it was a minute or longer. A few months ago the circus had come through town, and your boss had invited you both along, but Jason had declined, admitting that night, when it was just the two of you, that he was scared of clowns. After everything you had heard since moving to Gotham about the Joker, you weren’t surprised. Fear of clowns was actually quite common in Gotham, you late found out, thanks to the internet.

Sitting on the roof of your building, you looked at the skyline of the city, the sirens and traffic noise drifting upwards from the streets below. How the hell had you not realized that Jason was a Vigilante…a superhero? It was so obvious in hindsight.

“Please…please be ok, Jason,” you whispered into the night.

Bruce rubbed his hand wearily over his face as he looked at Jason, sleeping soundly in the med bay of the Batcave. Bruce was sitting in the chair positioned by Jason’s bed, watching over his second eldest son as he slept, the younger man attached to a bag of blood to replenish what was lost. It was the second bag Jason had gone through since Bruce had carried him into the med bay and lowered him to the bed. A tube was still down Jason’s throat, helping Jason breathe by pretty much doing all the work for him.

In addition to the stab wound to his stomach, they’d also found a bullet wound to Jason’s upper chest, just below his right collarbone, although the billet itself had passed the whole way through Jason’s body. An x-ray revealed cracked and broken ribs, one of which had left a small puncture in Jason’s lung.

It, by far, wasn’t the worse injury Jason had received (Bruce was actively not trying to think about that), but the injuries were still life threatening, and Jason had stopped breathing not long after arriving at the cave. That had been when they’d intubated him to get him breathing again. Not long after that his blood pressure had dropped dramatically, and Bruce had been mentally preparing himself to start CPR, and Alfred had started prepping the defibrillator, and even had the pads positioned on Jason’s chest. Luckily, it hadn’t been needed, and they’d managed to keep him stabilized until Dr. Leslie Thompkins could arrive at perform the surgery that Jason’s needed, to patch him up.

That had been a few hours ago, and Leslie had gone upstairs for a cup of tea with Alfred. Dick had finally been persuaded to go upstairs to get some sleep, as had Tim (well, who knew if Tim was actually sleeping or not) and Damian.

Batman had made a point of knowing where Jason’s safe houses were, as well as his apartment. He had a feeling Jason knew this, or at least suspected, but it never came up in conversation. None of them were close to where they’d found Jason, and Jason wouldn’t have been in any condition to get himself that far. Of course, Jason still had his comms, and his phone, and could have called them directly for help, but that still would have left him waiting to be picked up in an alleyway, and that was a dangerous place to be, especially injured and vulnerable and unable to defend yourself. Batman was proud that Jason, notoriously untrusting towards others, had sought out a friend of his, seeking the safety of her apartment, rather than staying on the streets or rooftops. Bruce felt a shudder go down his spine at the thought of what might have happened if Jason hadn’t gone to his friend.

Jason would probably be dead, again. Lying alone until somebody came across him and raised the alarm. At the mere thought Bruce reached out and wrapped his hand around Jason’s.

“I’ve already lost you once, I can’t lose you again, Jay.”

“Bruce?”

Bruce sighed, having not heard Dick’s cat like footsteps approaching.

“I thought you were going to try and sleep.”

“I couldn’t,” Dick admitted, drawing level with Bruce and looking down at Jayson, “I kept thinking of him lying there, on his girlfriend’s floor.”

“You think she was involved?”

“No, no way, she was too cut up about it to have done it. Besides, she would have had more blood on her, and the only blood on the floor was around him, and a couple of drops around the window.”

Bruce nodded in agreement, having never suspected Jason’s apparent girlfriend in the attack.

“So…did you know? About Jason’s girlfriend, I mean?” Dick asked curiously. Bruce looked up at Dick with raised eyebrows.

“I am the least likely person that Jason would ever tell about a personal matter like that.”

Dick cringed, ‘Yeah, good point”

“I might have noticed a few years ago, when I kept a closer eye on him, but since he’s stopped killing I’ve kept more of a distance,” Bruce added.

“I wondered,” Dick admitted, “he…he seemed happier, this past year. I mean, he still kept things to himself, but…he seemed more relaxed and less…aggressive. I wondered if he’d made some new friends…or a romantic partner, but at the same time I thought it might have just been time related, you know, him healing after…everything.”

Bruce nodded, but said nothing. Dick was right, Jason had seemed happier and less…angry…with the world this last year, but Bruce hadn’t really taken much notice…another way he’d failed Jason.

“Do…do you think he’ll introduce us, at some point.”

Bruce sighed, “We did meet her, tonight” he told his oldest.

Dick rolled his eyes, “You know that doesn’t count. You were in protective Bat Dad mode over Jason. Do you even know what her name is, because she never actually told you guys?”

“I was going to look it up from her apartment,” Bruce admitted. Dick sighed and held out the piece of paper that you had written your name and phone number on.

“Meet, Y/N, Jason’s mystery girlfriend.”

Bruce lifted his eyebrow curiously, and Dick jerked the piece of paper back.

“Seriously…You think I would try and hit on Jay’s girlfriend while he was, you know, bleeding out all over the place? I would never do that to him. I told her I would keep her up to date on how he was going.”

Wearily Bruce leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hand over his face. It was something that Dick would do. Bruce himself had been too focused on Jason to worry about the girl who had, apparently, been in a relationship with his second eldest son.

“He’ll be ok, won’t he?” Dick asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. Bruce blinked and looked up at Dick. The look on Dick’s face betrayed his emotions, and Bruce was reminded of how broken Dick had been when he’d learned of Jason’s death.

“You heard Dr. Tompkins,” Bruce reminded Dick gently, “he’s strong, he’ll recover.”

Dick visibly relaxed leaning against the wall of the med bay, “I don’t want to have to tell her that he’s gone.”

Bruce remained thoughtfully silent. While it wasn’t the first time one of the boys had gotten involved with someone romantically, it had been a long time since a civilian had been involved and he’d had to worry about a situation like this.

“You can tell her how he’s going, she already knows who he is,” he told Dick, although he knew that Dick would have done it, even if Bruce had said no. Dick was far better at dealing with people than Bruce had ever been.

“Bruce…what happened to him wasn’t your fault, you know that. Things are getting better between us and him, but he’s an adult now, he does do his own thing. You can’t protect him every minute of every day, if you tried it would only drive him away.”

Bruce sighed and nodded, bowing his head and continuing his vigil at Jason’s bedside. Dick watched him, before he backed away, leaving Bruce to his brooding. The only thing that would snap Bruce out of his funk would be Jason waking up, and that needed time.

You jolted awake as the shrill ringing of your phone dragged you from your sleep. You had gone back indoors just as the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, and you had been shivering from the freezing cold that came from being outside in the snow for an extended period of time. A quick phone call to your boss had given you the day off, as you knew that you would be virtually useless at work after a night of no sleep.

Seeing no point in coming up with a lie, you had told your boss a part of the truth…that Jason had been attacked while coming home from work, and you had been up all night worrying about him. You hadn’t talked about how Jason had been attacked, nor the fact that he was wearing his Red Hood costume at the time. Your boss, however, hadn’t asked questions and had instead given you the week off to look after Jason, and had passed on their best wishes to him.

It had made a weak smile cross your face as you remembered how much your boss liked Jason, and had been the one to introduce the pair of you.

After the conversation with your boss, you had tried to warm up with a hot shower, and then collapsed into bed, burrowing under the warm covers, and wishing that Jason was there to wrap his arms around you. You must have dozed off, because the next thing you knew your phone was ringing loudly beside your head, where you had placed it, and a few hours had passed.

You fumbled for your phone, swiping at the screen and lifting it to you ear without looking at who it was.

“Hello?” you asked urgently.

“Hi, Y/N?” a male voice replied, and you recognized the voice as Nightwing’s from the previous night.

“Yes,”

“It’s Nightwing,” Nightwing confirmed your suspicions, “I’m just ringing to update you on Jason’s condition.”

“Is he ok?” you asked, your heart in your throat.

“Yeah… he’s still sleeping, but his vital signs look really good. Just after we got him back to the cave his blood pressure dropped really low, but we managed to get him stabilized, and then a doctor friend of ours patched him up really well.”

“And…and he’ll be ok?” you questioned anxiously.

“Yeah, give him a week or two and he’ll be back to normal. He heals fast, he has for a long time.”

“Can...Can I see him?”

Nightwing sighed, “I can’t make any promises on that one, Y/N, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll have a word with the big guy.”

“Thank you” you replied, not knowing what else to say.

“Hey, we’ll work something out, don’t worry,” Nightwing told you reassuringly, “and even if it going to be a little while before he’s well enough to move or that it looks like you won’t be able to come and see him I promise that once he wakes up you guys will be able to talk on the phone, or even video call each other.”

You nodded, tears rolling down your face and you weren’t able to hold in the small sniffles you were making.

“Hey, it’s ok, don’t cry,” Nightwing soothed, “he’ll be up and about in no time. Why don’t you tell me a little about what you two lovebirds have been up to? Jason’s never really been one for romance, I want to know what shenanigans you two kids have been getting into since getting together.”

The next time you looked at the clock you were alarmed to realize that over an hour had passed since you had begun to tell Nightwing about the things you and Jason had done together since you had begun dating, the places that he had taken you to, the things he had made you, the little moments the pair of you had shared. Nightwing had patiently listened throughout it all, sometimes sounding emotional himself as he had asked you questions and encouraged you to continue talking about things.

“I, um, should probably let you keep going, I hadn’t realized it was getting so late,” you told Nightwing. There was a pause before Nightwing spoke again, and you wondered if Nightwing was checking to see what the time was.

‘Ah, yeah…sorry about that, Y/N, I didn’t mean to keep you talking for so long. I’ll give you a call alter on to update you on how Jason’s going. He might have woken up by then, so you guys might be able to talk.

“I’d like that,” you replied, already missing the sound of Jason’s voice.

“I’ll see what I can do, don’t worry Y/N, Jason’s is going to be fine. Bye.” Nightwing told you optimistically.

“Bye” you replied, before hanging up. While you were still worried about Jason, you were a little calmer now. He was still alive, and from what Nightwing had said it looked like he was going to make a full recovery. Still, you wished you could have seen Jason, or at least heard his voice.

Maybe later on, when Nightwing called again…

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x reader #fanfiction #rivan warrioress #rivanwarrioress #batfamily #Bat Family

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thatawesomenerdygirl · 7 years ago

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not everything can be saved || Batfamily

I was actually ranting about supernatural but I won’t put it here because it’s too long.

yes, this is a crossover!

Requested on wattpad!

Prompt 1; Hunter reader(supernatural) x Jason Todd Prompt 2; Yay!!!!!!!! So I was thinking like a batfamily supernatural cross over Sam and dean come to goth because of some strange deaths that have happened that has even the batfam on edge more than usual I'll let you pick the monster and of course cas has to be there but the boys and batfam run into problems with they have to work together because of how Sam and dean what to handle a monster by killing it in the bat family except for Jason and Damien don't want to do that because they think there might be a better way only to seee there isn't and Sam and dean kill the creature

The reader is from Gotham, an old friend of Jason and Bruce.

"Gotham city?" Dean's voice ringed throughout the library, you were sitting down across from him and flipped the page of the thick book you were reading, barely lifting your head to look at the older Winchester.

"Apparently, random civilians started going nuts in there." Sam butted in, walking over to the table and leaned his lower back against it.

"So? It doesn't mean that it's our gig!" Dean leaned back against his seat, closing the laptop shut with a loud thud earning himself a glare from Sam, Dean held his hands up in a mock surrender and continued, "is nobody gonna question that friggin' Gotham exists!?"

After deciding it was enough to hear Dean's rambling, you sighed, closing your book. "Dean calm down."

"Gotham City!? I mean---really!?"

You shrugged as Sam showed Dean a recent newspaper.

"That means Batman is real!" Dean stood up abruptly from his chair, slamming his palms on the wooden surface of the table after he was done reading the news.

"And Superman too," Sam paused, "...maybe."

"Well, what makes it our gig?" You asked, trying to get them back on track.

Their attention soon went back to you, Sam cleared his throat and show you another newspaper. It was probably a week old since the paper a little crumpled, probably Sam kept on flipping it when he was researching about a suspicious thing before finally come up with the one in Gotham.

Sam pointed at a certain paragraph, "here."

"Missing people?" You read the article with your head slightly tilted, lists of names of the people that were missing was there. You soon take the newest newspaper and compared the lists with the new ones, where people were sent to the Asylum, Jail and those who killed themselves. You spotted a few similar names, "well, it is weird, but they could be tortured when they were kidnapped and traumatized so they sent them there."

"Exactly, traumatized, not aggressive." Sam pointed out as he waved a hand in front of Dean's face to get him out of his trance, "you remember the people who lost their soul back then? Including me. Get into their nerves, you're dead meat."

Dean who was staring into nothing slumped back into his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he licked his suddenly dry lips, "I can't believe this, I thought I've seen everything."

Your phone soon ringed, it was from your past friend, Dean wouldn't stop shaking and rambling if he knew where you came from. "Hello?"

"Hey, I need your help."

You drove the Impala to Gotham, yes, Dean allowed you since he didn't know the way. For once you were sitting in the front seat with Sam while Dean sitting in the backseat, he leaned forward so he could see the way and lectured you to be careful with Baby.

You arrived at night, you should've looked for a motel but you had a very much better idea. You pulled up the car in front of an apartment before leading them into an alleyway near there.

"Dean, call your boyfriend. We might need his help." You pondered loudly as you stopped walking and rested your back against the wall.

"B--boyfriend?" He stuttered, looking at you with his bitch face.

"She means Cas, Dean." Sam snickered.

Dean grumbled something under his breath as he prayed for Castiel to get his feathery ass down and help all of you, soon enough a rustle of feathers was heard and Castiel appeared behind him, making the older Winchester jump in surprise.

"Damn it, Cas!"

"Sorry, Dean."

You waited for a few more minutes, the boys slowly getting impatient since they were starting to pace around, well it was Dean who paced around while Sam and Cas stayed calm.

"What are we waiting for?"

"Me."

You felt a hand resting on your shoulder, you looked up to see a man in a red helmet with a red bat symbol on his chest, "took you long enough."

Dean's head whipped around, a questioning look appeared on his handsome features but he wasn't the one who asked a question, it was Cas, "I thought the man of bat wears all black?"

"He does," The tall man beside you spoke, his voice sound just slightly muffled by the helmet he wore so you still could recognize who he was just by his voice, "Because I'm no Batman, I ain't going to be one."

A grin spread across your face, "you upgraded?" the words were meant to tease but he didn't seem bothered by it.

"It's a long story, I don't think if I tell you, you will believe me."

A scoff came from you as a response, you crossed your arms as you stared up at him in a challenging manner. "Try me, Red."

"Let's go to my safehouse first for some privacy, I don't think the old man is ready for some--Ghostbusters going into his cave before we explain everything to him."

"These Ghostbusters are here to save your bacon." Dean rolled his green eyes just before Redhood disappears up to the roof after giving you a coordinate to his safehouse.

"Who was that?" Castiel asked again, being a curious baby in a trenchcoat that he was, with his adorable head tilt that had never failed to make you breathed out an aww without getting embarrassed to which you just did.

"That was my old friend."

"Old friend?" Sam asked curiously while you answered with a curt nod.

"Let's go and I'll tell you everything when all of us are gathered."

The two families gathered around in Jason's safehouse, it was so crowded but you were still a little grateful that you could breathe without struggling. You were practically squeezed between Sam and Dean, Cas sat on the arm couch by Dean. Oh, how much you wanted to shove Cas into Dean's lap.

"So, you were dead?" You asked Jason a little too casually, who could blame you really.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Oh."

Then silence.

"Oh?" Robin a.k.a Damian Wayne slash little Bruce Wayne a.k.a not-so-literally Demon Spawn spoke up (they thought it was no use to wear their masks since Dean, Sam and Cas already know Bruce's identity), amused with your and the boys' reply.

"Well..." You shook your head, "nevermind that, let's just get back on track. Tim, can you show Sam the correct lists of the people who went missing?"

"Yes, come on." Tim gestured to another room, Sam following. Tim looked

"Cas, bring Damian and Dick (yes he was there) to the GCPD and see the vics." Your voice was stern and full of authority, you could see Damian frowned, you knew he was about to protest but said nothing. "Bruce, you go with Dean to the asylum."

"Awesome, the Batmobile." The older Winchester visibly grinned with glee as he followed Bruce out of the safehouse.

On the other hand, Dick walked over to Cas and gave him a mask, "here, we can't risk them to see your face."

Cas tilted his head curiously, "why?"

"Secret identity thingy," Dick explained simply and helped him put on his mask before Castiel put his hands on Dick's and Damian's shoulders then disappeared with a flap of his wings.

Jason looked at the spot where his brothers and Castiel once stood with his mouth open ajar, "he--- what? How?"

You let out a sigh and began to explain everything to him, from how you met the Winchesters and Castiel, how you became a hunter after watching your friend got killed by a werewolf. You didn't tell him everything though, it was a story for another time. You fill him up with everything and vice versa.

"No wonder you didn't bat an eyelash when I told you I came back from the dead." Jason crossed his arms across his chest as he sat down beside you while you did some researching yourself to get the case over with as fast as possible.

"Yeah, in my world there are so many deaths I'm so fed up with it, I'm glad you came back though," you flipped a page of the book you brought from the bunker, "that explains why you didn't contact me for a long time."

Jason peeked at the book over your shoulder after he scooted closer to you, he didn't understand anything that was written in the book. Mostly about monsters. The only monsters he knew where the Joker and his nightmares.

"This is your job?" Jason asked as he read the part about demons.

"Yeah, I do road trips with those boys, sometimes I stay in the Bunker to do the research."

"You have a Bunker?"

"The Winchesters are Legacy, as they put it, and I won't call it a Bunker though, it's more like home than Bunker to me."

A hum rumbled in Jason's throat while you changed the book and began to read before you finally stopped to blink your slowly drying eyes.

"Geez, they took longer than I thought they would."

As if on cue, Sam came out from the room he was in earlier with Tim as they chatted.

"God, don't tell me your friend is a nerd too." Jason groused as he looked up at his younger brother, arms still crossed over his toned chest.

"Sammy is a nerd, a hot nerd." You corrected confidently, giving the tall Winchester a wink. Sam rolled his eyes in reply to your teasing while you chuckled as you unconsciously leaned slightly against Jason, "what you got?"

"So, get this...the victims had a cut on a part of their bodies, it was random though, whoever it was seemed not to care about where they cut his victims," Sam showed you a picture of the recent victim, "this one is in the neck."

"What kind of psychopath is that?" Tim piped in.

"It couldn't be the Joker," Jason shuddered when his torturer's name rolled off his tongue, still traumatized with the memory, you placed a hand on his arm to comfort the ravenette emitting a sigh from him, "then who?"

Castiel soon came back with Dick and Damian who were holding their heads in their hands, Dick let out a groan, clutching his dark hair in his hands tighter.

"Ugh, this is worse than getting punched in the gut." Dick protested, "I think I'm gonna throw up."

You watched the poor male ran towards the toilet to puke out his dinner, Damian though, he clutched his stomach as he slumped down to his knees. Groaning to hold back his own sickness.

"Buckle up, Robin." Jason jostled.

"The victims have no soul," Castiel informed you, you weren't surprised but Jason did.

"Wait, literally soulless?" Asked Jason.

"Yes," Castiel responded.

"Is there a way to get the victims soul back?"

"It depends." You answered Tim's question for Sam and Castiel, sighing in frustration soon after. The only hope you got was Bruce and Dean's information and all you had to do was to wait for a little longer. Taking the remaining time to rest.

After Dean and Bruce came back from the asylum, they told you about a victim that managed to escape from her captor. They explained everything about her captor, they also mentioned that the victim said that she was a hot man making you breathing out a laugh but then again explains how he got his preys.

"She also mentioned that he used an Angel Blade." Dean finished, the sun had risen and the rest had changed out of their suits.

"What kind of monster that has an Angel Blade?" Castiel wondered out loud.

You were laying down on the couch, legs draped over Jason's lap while Jason himself had his green eyes closed, still tired from last night yet somehow managing to listen to everything.

"If it is a monster," you tiredly speak up, all of them raised an eyebrow at you at the same time but you were too tired to laugh. The only word that came out from your mouth was, "Grigori."

Castiel growled, his fists clenching, "Abomination."

Bruce and his sons, except for Jason who went to sleep again, stared at each other, clearly didn't understand anything you or Castiel were talking about.

Sam fixed his hair by tucking the stranded locks behind his ears and began explaining. "Grigori once was a squad of elite angels, they were watchers of the earth until some of them began feeding human souls."

"How do we catch it?" Bruce inquired after being silent for a long time, he looked frustrated with the situation. It wasn't logical but then nothing is, he could accept aliens being real...some monsters are made, but angels? No, it was maybe a little too much for the main Wayne.

Dean shook his head, he knew about Bruce 'no killing' rule which was an exact opposite from his usual ways to get his cases over with.

The Grigori had hurt a lot of people and his victims couldn't be saved anymore.

"Sorry to break it to you man, the only thing that could stop them is to kill them." Dean sat down on a chair near the couch you were laying on, "your no-kill rule doesn't work in my kind of job."

"Is there really no other way?" Bruce tried to argue, exasperated with the thought of killing a human being.

"I'm sorry," you shook your head sadly, sitting up before fixing your bed hair with your fingers, looking at the slowly waking up Jason. He gave you a sleepy smirk as he fixed his own messy hair. "There's no other way, he killed a lot of people and he's no human."

Tim and Dick looked at each other sadly, they also didn't like the idea. They say nothing to protest though. Meanwhile Damian, who was used to the word death and kill, just stared at the rest tiredly. He also got no sleep. Poor kid.

"I'm really sorry Bruce." You apologized sympathetically, looking up into his saddened sky blue eyes. "Not everything can be saved."

Bruce slowly nodded and declared to finish the problem at night, he couldn't believe himself for agreeing to kill. He knew whoever or whatever they were, were not human, not anymore at least. The thought made it easier to do the job.

The day passed, you spent the entire day by sleeping and eating, occasionally talking with Jason and helped him with his gun. Dean, Sam, and Cas went out to explore Gotham before getting some sleep themselves and the rest went back to the manor to get their own business done.

When the night comes, all of you were ready with the plan. You were the bait since the Grigori seemed only interested in women because they were an easy prey.

Jason, being a good friend that he was, protested with the idea. He didn't like it, of course you had explained that you were used to it, you knew the risks and consequences but Jason was stubborn, he ended up joining you---well, watching you from afar, his gun that was filled with bullets that were made from Angel Blade was ready in his grasp, blocking it from other people's view with his leather jacket as the other hid somewhere out of everybody's eyes, their weapons were ready in their hands.

It wasn't long for the Grigori to show up, he was a good-looking man really. You had to act as if you were enchanted with his words and agreed to go out from the bar after an hour-long sitting in there.

He led you to a car, probably his or maybe stolen, you could care less about it, he opened the passenger seat for you, motioning you to get in which you did. Faking a smile to make it less suspicious.

The street was almost empty, only one or two car passed. No people walking by either.

The man joined to sit on the driver seat before he looked at you with a smug smirk, "does anybody ever told you how pretty you are?" He started, leaning closer to you.

You slowly backing up but reaching your hand up to cup his stubbly cheek, giving him a coy smile as you answered, "I think you just did."

You heard him chuckle, his lips were so close to yours. His hand went to rest against the car window behind you as the other rummaged his pocket, "did I?"

You had to let out a fake shriek as you dodged when a bullet went through the man's head, then another and another. The man groans loudly, he gave you a glare before he finally screamed painfully as a blinding light went out of his mouth and eyes, as an instinct you covered your eyes with your hands.

You didn't realize the car door was opened until Jason's voice run reached your ear.

"Hey!"

You moved your hands from your eyes, looking at Jason who had half of his torso inside the car to move the corpse to the backseat before he went into the driver's seat.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Where are the others?"

"They left first to free some of his victims." He motioned to the corpse behind you as he turns the key before driving down the street, "what we should do next?"

"Burn the body."

"That sounds so psychopathic," Jason tried to joke as he kept his eyes on the street while you laughed at his bad attempt, there was a silence between you two but he broke it. "When are you going to come back?"

"Tonight."

"Oh."

"But I can stay."

"Really?" He inquired, glancing at you from time to time.

"Yeah, let me give the boys a call." You started to fiddle with your phone before bringing it up against your ear.

"Good because I want to bring you somewhere."

You chuckled, Castiel was the one who picked up the call since he still had his phone. He told you that he and the Winchesters would stay for another few days. You smiled at the thought spending the last next few days with them and Jason.

#spnfamily #crossover #batfamily #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd x reader #dc #dcu #supernatural crossover #dc crossover

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