#Figure out how to write Talia.

[aingeal98]

WFA continues to be absolutely hilarious to me because it really seems that with every Bruce and Batboy emotional moment they're just... Kind of phoning it in like they take the quick and easy conflict resolution a 1k fanfic trying to do hurt/comfort that addresses all the batfams trauma would. Jason's had a whole arc this season and none of it has clicked with me because it feels entirely like a fanfic version of him.

And then with Babs and Cass there's such a shift like you can feel the love the writers have for the characters every time they so much as reference them it's so good and so fucking funny. Here's Bruce and the boys talking about their feelings and comforting each other when they feel sad ANYWAY did you know that Babs as Oracle is her best self, fully autonomous and a peer to Bruce even if he's often blinded to that fact and mistakenly treats her like one of his young proteges? Did you know that if Bruce is going to fight his family his main concern would be how to beat Cass? Did you know that's because of the unique way she can read people which also leads to her feeling Different from everyone else? Shit we're losing them hey look Alfred and Bruce are having a conversation! Anyway back to Barbara and her father because we have a lot to cover here-

[the-inkwell-variable]

AITA Tag Game!

Thanks so much for the tag, @leahnardo-da-veggie!

RULES: Make an Am I the Asshole post for an OC!

AITA for sending my nieces and nephew away?

I (27f) am currently living with my sister (31f) and her nieces and nephew. It's tight quarters, and we're pretty much living off her child support and my mediocre income, but what can you do? It's cozy and it works for us.

There's this new virus going around - you've probably heard of it on the news by now. And I'm pretty sure my sister has it. We thought it was just the normal flu at first, but it's been two weeks now and I'm almost certain she has it.

The thing is, none of the kids have it, and neither do I. Schools are closed for quarantine, but I can't afford to take time off to babysit, and I sure as hell can't afford a babysitter. I asked the oldest niece (f17) if she would help out, and she flat out refused, so that's out the window.

I'm pretty desperate. I can't just leave these kids at home with their sick mom - what if they get sick too? What if one of the weirdos breaks in? What if they leave the house unsupervised and get in trouble, or god forbid get hurt? I can't take the risk, so I sent the kids to live with their dad in Kansas City until their mom is feeling better.

My sister is FURIOUS. Even though it should only be a few days, a week at most, she is livid that I made that decision without even asking her (even though she's spent the past two weeks practically in a coma so I don't know when I would have had the chance to ask her at all). She's threatening to kick me out and call the cops on me for child endangerment (ETA: her ex is a jerk but AFAIK he's never hurt her or the kids).

I'm convinced I made the right decision. The kids are out of the quarantine and are safe with their dad, and I can focus on taking care of my sister and my job. But everyone I ask says that I'm TA for doing it without my sister's input. What do you guys think?

Thanks so much for this fun little game! I'm curious to see what you guys think of Ashlee's decision. If you have more questions about Ashlee and her wip, Dauntless, shoot me an ask!

Tagging @radiowrites - @i-can-even-burn-salad - @space-writes - anyone who wants to take part!

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

at present, i have 43 ideas on my long fic to write list and i just want to yap about all of them lmao

does someone want to pay me to stay home and write fics all day?

[mkarchin713]

Jazz decides the safest place for the both of them is with the man her mother lovingly referred to as her Step-Father, Batman.

Now the thing you have to know is that Batman met Maddie while he was training with the league, and since Talia was dating both of them ….

Long story short, when Jazz commandeers the Bat Signal and tells Batman that she is Maddie’s daughter, the BatFam comes to the very logical conclusion that Jazz is Bruce’s daughter.

Jazz isn't the biological daughter of Jack.

It was before their marriage. Back in her league days, Maddie was simply the best of the best. She was the demon's daughter second in command, heading her call any moment and her most loyal subject.

That's how it was, to the people.

Behind closed doors she and the demon daughter were more.

But those are old times, after she betrayed the league, fled and created plans to continue living in relative peace.

That was how it was supposed to be.

That was not how it played out.

During her 3rd year with a man called Jack Fenton, did she receive news of a child, a daughter of her own with Talia. One she created in a lab, trained to follow their footsteps and ran from the league at the perfect time and needed to hide.

So maddie took in her daughter, trained her, and showed the ropes of a civilian life.

Jack loved her as if she were his own. It led them to finally marry and later on have Danny.

Jazz knew of the pits, of the meaning they had, and how much knowledge the leader of the league possessed.

Now she is 17, recently orphaned with her 15 year old brother and on the run because Danny is currently the only living person in this world who knows more of the pits than the current user.

And Ra's really wants that knowledge.

[rin-may-1103]

The Master Post.

someone asked for a master post so here we are.

Tag List? yes, there is a tag list. If you'd like to be Added, please leave a comment on the Stories Linked Post. If the tags aren't working for some reason, then you can either Follow this post by clicking the bell (or the three dots) or follow the Story's Post the same way. I'll update both Relevant Posts when there is a New Part.

Unfortunately, I can't keep up with all the people asking to be added to the tag list in all the different posts, so to make it easier, please follow the instructions above. if you don't I'll most likely miss your comment and therefore not add you to the tag list. (if you're not sure if you're tagged or not, you can check out the Tag List Here, please follow the instructions in the comments)

Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.

I hope y'all keep enjoying the stories as much as I enjoy writing them.

Stories and Summaries:

The Wrong Robin Au (DP x DC):

Tim Drake saw Danny do a quadruple somersault, which resulted in him believing Danny was the first Robin for years. He still figured out Bruce but thinks Dick is in the dark. Now with the second Robin dead, and Batman quickly reaching the end of his sanity, Tim takes it upon himself to get Robin to come back. Danny is very confused when this random kid tries to blackmail him into becoming Robin.

Badger Day Au (DP x DC):

Danny is stuck in a Groundhog Day kinda situation and he would like to be let out now, please. The league is very worried.

Delilah's language (DP x DC):

Bruce Wayne approaches the Fentons because Damian is a big fan of Danny for his work in the conservation of the purpleback gorilla. So now Danny is going to the birthday of this random kid so he can teach him gorilla sign language so he can talk to the purple-back gorilla as well.

Just a Bite (DP x DC):

Danny's homeless on the streets of Gotham, when he gets a terrible idea from some passerby. Three weeks after living with the Waynes, they still haven't noticed he's not supposed to be there.

72 hours (DP x DC):

During a battle with the rest of the league, John Constantine is accidentally sent into the palace of Pariah Dark, Tyrant of the Dead, and Bane of the Living. Danny just wanted to have a simple spa day.

Biggest Regret (DP x DC):

Danny Had been optimistic when he created The Email. Three days, that's what he gave himself. Three days to fix or get out of whatever problem he was dealing with and open his laptop to restart the timer. Three days. Past him had thought that If he ever got caught they'd just kill him; it's what they said they would do this whole time, so why wouldn't he think otherwise? It's been more than three days, and at this point, he's just glad someone could fulfill his last wish.

The Disappointment (DP x DC):

Ra's has stated his disapproval of one of the twins, now Talia is rushing to get them out of there and to Bruce to be safe. Danny has other ideas.

Black Retrievers and Golden Cats (DP x DC):

He remembered how it took two hours for his mind to catch up to what he had done, two hours for him to realize he had just killed his brother. It took another two days to realize his brother was never coming back, that the pits had not worked. Damian stared at the camera footage infront of him, his family's voices buzzing with theories and analyzing everything they could. He remembered his brother's bright carefree smile just minutes before Damian had killed him. So, why? Why was he seeing it again?

College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row. (DP X DC):

Tim doesn't understand how he's losing at university to a toddler. Danny's not having a great time, but it's fine because now he can terrorize Red Robin.

The Willpower of Space (DP X DC):

A faulty green lantern ring wakes from it's accidental eon long sleep due to how powerful Danny's willpower is. It decides that Danny is a worthy wielder and grants Danny the ability to use it. There's just one problem; Danny keeps dying. and the ring doesn't understand what's going on. Oa is very concerned.

The Weeping Boy Au (DP X DC):

I'll think of a summary later, for now, it's an expansion of this post.

The Eyes of Death Au (DP X DC):

In an attempt to prevent a cult from causing problems, Danny accidentally convinces the Justice League and Co. that he's possessing himself. Damian is not happy that his boyfriend is apparently the new June Moone.

[mikeo56]

I watched the uncensored video of US airman Aaron Bushnell self-immolating in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington while screaming “Free Palestine”. I hesitated to watch it because I knew once I put it into my mind it’s there for the rest of my life, but I figured I owe him that much. 

I feel like I’ve been picked up and shaken, which I suppose was pretty much what Bushnell was going for. Something to shake the world awake to the reality of what’s happening. Something to snap us out of the brainwashed and distracted stupor of western dystopia and turn our gaze to Gaza.

The sounds stay with you more than the sights. The sound of his gentle, youthful, Michael Cera-like voice as he walked toward the embassy. The sound of the round metal container he stored the accelerant in getting louder as it rolls toward the camera. The sound of Bushnell saying “Free Palestine”, then screaming it, then switching to wordless screams when the pain became too overwhelming, then forcing out one more “Free Palestine” before losing his words for good. The sound of the cop screaming at him to get on the ground over and over again. The sound of a first responder telling police to stop pointing guns at Bushnell’s burning body and go get fire extinguishers.

He remained standing for an unbelievable amount of time while he was burning. I don’t know where he got the strength to do it. He remained standing long after he’d stopped vocalizing.

Bushnell was taken to the hospital, where independent reporter Talia Jane reports that he has died. It was about as horrific a death as a human being can experience, and it was designed to be. 

Shortly before his final act in this world, Bushnell posted the following message on Facebook:

“Many of us like to ask ourselves, ‘What would I do if I was alive during slavery? Or the Jim Crow South? Or apartheid? What would I do if my country was committing genocide?’ “The answer is, you’re doing it. Right now.”

Aaron Bushnell has provided his own answer to this challenge. We’re all providing our own right now.

I would never do what Bushnell did, and I would never recommend anyone else does either. That said, I also can’t deny that his action is having its intended effect: drawing attention to the horrors that are happening in Gaza.

I know this is true because everywhere I see Aaron Bushnell being discussed online I see a massive deluge of pro-Israel trolls frantically swarming the comments in a mad rush to manipulate the narrative. They all understand how destructive it is to US and Israeli information interests for people to be seeing an international news story about a member of the US Air Force self-immolating on camera while screaming “Free Palestine”, and they are doing everything they can to mitigate that damage.

As I write this, there are with absolute certainty people digging through Bushnell’s history searching for dirt that can be spun as evidence that he was a bad person, that he was mentally ill, that he was steered astray by pro-Palestine activists and dissident media — whatever they can make stick. If they find something, literally anything, the smearmeisters and propagandists will run with it as far as they can.

That’s what they’re choosing to do at this point in history. That’s what they would have done during slavery, or the Jim Crow south, or apartheid. That’s what they’re doing while their country commits genocide right now. People are showing what they would have done with their response to Gaza, and they’re showing what they would have done with their response to the self-immolation of Aaron Bushnell.

I’m not going to link to the video here; watching it is a personal decision on which you should probably do your own legwork to make sure it’s really what you want. Whether you watch it or not, it happened, just like the incineration of Gaza is happening right now. We each own our personal response to that reality. This is who we are.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Demon Children Are Multiplying

This idea is still stuck in my head, and I might even end up writing something out of it, but for now, I just thought of something equally really, really stupid and really, really funny.

What if I combine that idea with Al Ghul Twins. I don't know how. Maybe Talia was cautious about Ra's not wanting to keep two kids for a position of Heir, or maybe she staged Danny's death, or maybe something else entirely happened. But anyway, Danny is Damian's twin.

Then, Dani is the same age as Danny in this AU. And Dan is de-aged to be the same age as both of them.

Now behold an absolute train wreck of a situation where Bruce attends a Gala hosted by Vladimir Masters. Together with Damian, of course, and maybe other batkids are there too. They all part their ways to make their rounds or whatnot. And they all keep seeing Damian wherever they go. Just everywhere.

Dick is talking to someone, and Damian walks past him, not paying him any attention. Which is not surprising, but a little rude, and, wait, wasn't he wearing a red tie? When did he change it to green one?

Tim is just going on the top floor to greet a lady he recognizes from some other event, and Damian all but storms in the opposite direction, only letting Tim catch a glimpse of his face. But when Tim turns around, he is really confused: the person running down the stairs is clearly a girl, albeit she is wearing a suit. Her long hair is up in a complicated braid. Why did he even mistake her for Damian?

But the ultimate confusion happens when Bruce is talking to Vladimir Masters, and a very familiar voice calls, "Father". Because both he and Vladimir turn to face the boy and ask, "Yes?" at the same time.

Damian is standing there, looking between Bruce and Vlad. He looks a little off somehow, but before Bruce can figure out why, the boy blinks and focuses on Vlad.

"We've been looking for you," he tells the man, and, wait, when was Damian looking for Masters? Furthermore, who is we?

But then another child comes closer. And-

That's Damian.

That's two Damians.

Wait, no, none of them are Damians.

"What is it?" Vladimir raises an eyebrow, not paying too much attention to Bruce's blanched expression.

A third child comes towards them, and this one also looks like Damian, only this one is a girl.

"Template's duplicate is here," she says, and Vlad frowns, turning to the Damian lookalike in the middle.

"Have you had another incident that I don't know of?"

Whatever answer the boy wanted to give is cut off by a n o t h e r child who looks like- no, this is real Damian, thank God, Bruce had started to wonder if the champagne was spiked with hallucinogens.

"Father-" he stops in his tracks as the three other children turn to him, and the four of them just stare at each other for a long moment. Then the one in the middle takes a sharp breath in and stage-whispers:

"Quick, do the meme!"

And all three not-Damians start pointing at each other.

Bruce is going to have an aneurysm. Judging by Vladimir's face, he is also not far from one.

Just my ramblings under the cut

I think you all know what meme I'm talking about, but I'm still gonna add it

This is so fucking hilarious to me, I'm sorry, I just can't

Danny is not missing this opportunity of a lifetime, even though Vlad specifically asked all three of them not to cause a scene. And yes, they all call Vlad "father" just for the spite of it or for shits and giggles. I'm going with Bad Fentons idea here, although I'm not sure to which degree they are bad, but anyway, Vlad is their legal guardian, and he is redeemed.

Yes, Dick took a picture. Yes, it's already in the group chat. Yes, other batkids are going wild.

Damian is greatly confused because, first, he thought there was a clone of him at the gala, but apparently, there were three of them, and second, why are they pointing at each other? Should he join them? He is under the assumption his brother is dead (he's not exactly wrong on that account), or he doesn't even know he existed.

This is as far as I got now, feel free to add anything!

[i-yap]

Can I get your thoughts on a gn reader who’s dating Grayson and is like a parent figure or older sibling to Damien, so they have a soft spot for him ( so does Damien ) ?

Dick grayson x gn!y/n x platonic!Damian

this is my first time writing a gn reader so like I'm sorry if I write something stupid or offensive, just comment it and ill fix it.

if you are dating dick then damian will stalk you extensively at first. Dick is his favorite sibling ( in most comics) and if dick is serious about you, stalking is just how the batfam shows love.

He will be rude , he will be mean and sarcastic but dick warned you and you understand where dami's coming from. So you kindly and patiently deal with him and dick obviously doesn't let Dami cross the line when it comes to you.

One night dick had to rush out for a really scary mission and told you to stay at the manor because its the safest place to be.

Damian was the only other person that was left behind since the mission required everyone else on the team and bruce did not think damian was ready for such a high risk mission just yet.

so damian was really frustrated and also worried for the rest of the family. you walk past Dami's room to see him staring off in the distance while fidgeting or biting his nails. You ask alfred for a chess set ( or any other board/card game) and bring it to dami's room. While playing , he opens up about his frustrations and you patiently listen . Not a lot of people in his family are as warm and caring as you are ( maybe dick but even he is really busy)

After that night the roles are reversed. Now damian thinks dick is undeserving of you and his snarky comments are directed to him. You just find it funny while dick is left confused. "I thought he liked me more man, why the sudden switch?" " he got enlightened dickie boy muhahah" " you are mind controlling him arent you"

One-on-one time in the manor- haha dick wishes. So he tries only calling you when dami is at school or training or patrol. ofc you and dami catch on soon which means you and dami chasing him with katanas.

talking about katanas, dami loves showing you his art and his pets and if you share an interest in either of them he gets even more excited.

you and dick become dami's honorary parents. might as well adopt him since bruce and talia are obviously not doing a very good job ( in most comics) .

whenever dami is mad at bruce or simply upset or bored he comes to you and dick's apartment. You and dick are the fun warm loving couple that spend the night playing board games and watching stupid movies . you introduce him to all the major pop culture shows and movies and dick teaches him how to just dance randomly. your apartment is so different from the gloomy , filled with blood stains, fights and training manor. its filled with music and love and warm lights cooking together in funny pjs and dancing badly to pop songs.

it is watching you and dick that dami realizes what love is supposed to look like. and what a normal household looks like( sort of normal) and it affects the way he grows up. I wont be surprised if he comes to you for parents teacher meeting days or to sign his field trips or for advice on normal things

and the canon where dami is being bullied in school, while you go full on protective mode ,dick tries teaching him how to be better in social situations.

overall dami is just counting down days dick marries you and you'all unofficially adopt him.

[battymommastuff]

Tw: you don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable but could you do the bat boys with a reader with sh scars maybe on their thighs. You really don’t have to though! Also I love your writing!! Have a good day/night!

Perfect Imperfections

Batmom x Batfamily

TW: Mentions of miscarraige, self harm, and depression!!

Masterlist

Why was she so patient? Why was she so insistent? These questions kept replaying in Damian's head as he angrily paced the empty batcave. He'd been living at Wayne manor for nearly a year now, and he wasn't having the best time adjusting. His new home life was a struggle. He wouldn't admit it, but he hated having to share his father with his step mother. He also hated how kind you were to him. Talia never treated him with such kindness, so why are you doing the same? Being the mother figure in the house, you should be strict...and harsh with him. 

Instead you were the opposite, and it made him so angry. The second thing he was struggling to adjust to was his school. He was heavily encouraged by his "siblings" to make friends, but no one seemed to want to be friends with him. Instead he was met with judgemental looks, and hushed whispers. Damian hated his new life, and he wanted to go back to his old one. At least he had some respect there. 

All of this led to today's event. You were walking through the manor in search of Damian. Bonding with him had been more of a struggle than any of your other children. You wanted to get to know him and find some connection between then two of you. You found him sitting on his bed crying softly, "Damian?" You called out, startling the boy. He turned towards you with puffy eyes, and a runny nose, "What's wrong?" You asked and reached out to hug him. 

Damian jumped up and put as much distance between the two of you as he could in his room, "It's nothing! Just leave me alone!" He snapped before running from the room. Now he was angrily pacing the Batcave. This sadness and loneliness that he felt made him want to vomit. He constantly felt like a weight was on his chest, and he couldn't get it to go away. Damian wanted to scream...cry...destroy things. He didn't understand what was wrong with him. 

What he didn't know was that you related to him in that way. He didn't figure it out until a week later. It was movie night at the Wayne Manor. Instead of being on patrol, everyone crammed into the living room with their popcorn and drinks. You were the last one to arrive, and you were wearing pajama shorts with a Superman nightshirt on. That causes your husband to pout for a while. Damian noticed several scars on your thighs. They went from the top of your knee and disappeared under your shorts. He could tell that they weren't from battle. No one else seemed to notice or question them. 

All throughout the movie, Damian's focus was on your scars. What did that to you? Was it self-inflicted? Impossible! You always seemed so happy to do something like that to yourself. He then looked back at your face. Did you feel the same things that he felt? 

><><><><><><><><><><

"Y/n?" You looked up from your book to see Damian standing in front of you, "The other night...when we were watching the movie. I noticed the scars on your legs." You looked down to your legs which were covered by your pants. You'd completely forgotten that Damian hadn't ever seen them before, "How did you get them? Was it from a fight?" He asked nervously, and felt guilty for even asking in the first place. 

You let out a shaky breath as you set your book down, "I gave them to myself. It was several years ago..." You felt sick to your stomach as you remembered that time. The mental hell you had been in, and was still fighting to this day, "Your father, and I had found out that I was pregnant. I was two months in when I lost it." A tear slipped from your eye as you remembered the pain you felt that night, "After that night, I couldn't eat...I couldn't sleep. All I could do was cry and cry until I felt numb..." Damian moved closer to you, and sat down on the couch with you, "So numb that I wanted to feel something, some feeling that made me feel alive. So I cut myself...over and over." You wiped another tear from your face and sniffled. 

"What made you stop?" 

"It was about a year after adopting Dick. He was such a happy little boy, and he wanted to show me his report card. He didn't know it was the anniversary of us losing the baby, and I didn't know that he was coming home early. He walked in on me cutting my thighs." Damian felt his eyes start to water. He didn't know what came over him, but he launched himself onto you. A hug so tight, it might be choking you. You hugged him back and couldn't help but cry with him once you felt his tears soak into your shirt. You finished telling him the story. About how you started seeing a therapist, and taking medicine to help. Also about how you started getting better despite the several setbacks you had along the way. 

He then opened up to you about how he felt, and you along with the rest of his family helped him get better as they did for you. Four years later, he was walking towards the back of the manor with a bouquet of flowers in his arm. He stopped at a small headstone with other flowers surrounding it. The headstone for the unborn Wayne child. His potential older sibling. Damian set the flowers down before he crouched down in front of the stone, "I learned that there are an infinite number of universes out there, and I know there's one where we got to meet you. This universe never got the chance to, but Ummi told me that you sent us all to her. If that's true, then thank you. For giving me the best mother, and supporter I could ever want."

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 6.7k words

warnings: explicit language, lots of fluff, smut (18+), fingering, protected piv sex, a bit of praise kink, mentions of reader’s strained relationship with her parents, alcohol consumption (drunk!reader and drunk!steve moment)

summary: the semester comes to an end

a/n: this turned out so much longer than expected wow but last chapter! wooo!!! (simultaneously happy and sad woo) epilogue coming next week !!

CHAPTER NINETEEN | ❝𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖❞

Fall Semester 2017

“I’m gonna come over here all of the time.”

“When we actually get a couch, feel free to be our honorary fifth roommate anytime you want, Munson,” Robin said, which made you laugh as you also nodded in agreement. 

It was the first night in the apartment and it definitely showed— there were boxes everywhere, lifeless walls, and nothing in the living room aside from said boxes and a TV (courtesy of Vickie’s mom) on the floor that you all were currently surrounding. Your bedroom was also nothing but a mess, and so was everyone else’s, which was the main reason why camping out in the living room for the night became the immediate consensus. 

At first, you expected it to be a night of watching bad movies and ordering takeout, but Talia— now deemed as one of the coolest people you’d ever met— was adamant about making an actual meal for you all. She said something about how nice it would be to have a real meal on your first night, and who were all of you to deny an actual home-cooked meal? 

Eddie came over right when you mentioned spaghetti to him over the phone. His own shared apartment was also in a state of disarray, but he was fine with setting unpacking to the side for the time being. 

“Okay, the food’s done, but I’m so sad that I forgot to get garlic bread,” Talia said. “Next time, though.” 

“I can’t believe you’re already thinking about next time. You’re way too good to us,” Vickie said and the rest of you hummed in agreement. 

Talia only laughed in response as you all joined her in the kitchen to grab some food and then once again settled on the living room floor. Eddie left afterward, but promised not to “eat and run” next time; none of you were entirely sure if you actually believed him. 

The rest of the night felt equivalent to the kinds of sleepovers you imagine you would’ve had if you had close enough friends when you were younger. There was a mass of blankets and pillows on the floor and you were watching probably one of the cheesiest romcoms to ever exist.

The four of you already felt like a little family. And perhaps it only already felt that way because you’d been craving a feeling like that for the past few years, maybe even for as long as you could remember. In your eyes, it was somehow so easy to immediately call the apartment your home. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Anyone else would’ve deemed it as horrible timing— it was the middle of finals and all that should’ve been on both of your minds was studying— but neither you nor Steve saw it that way. You two had been through worse timings, you figured. 

It was hard for both of you to focus on what needed to be focused on, but you and him made it work. Mostly. 

You could admit that there were probably too many moments where you were in the middle of working on an essay and you stopped to text him a random thought that came to mind, and then there were other moments where he was calling you when you knew that he was supposed to be studying for one of his many tests. 

Even in this instance, it probably wasn’t the best idea to be at Steve’s apartment instead of in your own space, and yet here you were anyway— “writing” an essay that was due by midnight, the last one you had to do actually, as he “studied” for the last test he had that was tomorrow. 

“Okay, we should really get serious,” You said when you pulled away from Steve, maneuvering off of his lap and settling back on your side of the couch. 

“What? We were just taking a quick break.”

“Yeah, and five minutes turned into fifteen,” You responded, and then proceeded to say the words that you really didn’t want to say. “I think I should go.”

Steve frowned; it was probably the cutest thing you’d ever seen. “No. Stay.”

“We’re just gonna keep distracting each other.”

He considered your words for a second. There was no way that he could deny them; you two were inadvertently distracting each other and had been for the past hour that you’d been at his place. 

“Okay, what if you stayed out here and worked on your essay, and I went to my room to study. We wouldn’t be able to distract each other then.”

It was endearing how adamant he was about you staying that you were nodding along to his suggestion instead of saying how kind of silly it was, like you were little kids that needed to be separated in school; but maybe that was actually a pretty accurate description of you two in this moment. 

“Okay, yeah, that works,” You told him, biting back your amused smile.

“Okay,” He nodded and smiled, giving you a quick kiss before he stood up from the couch and gathered his stuff off of the coffee table. “See you in a few hours.” 

You managed to finish your essay in what felt like record time, and you hadn’t even been trying to rush through it. You proofread it two times before you submitted it and it was only a little after eleven when you closed your laptop, placed it on the coffee table, and then headed over to Steve’s room to see how he was doing with studying. 

“I’m done.”

You gave him a skeptical look because the timing seemed a little too perfect. “You sure?”

“Yup, you can even test me if you want,” He said, giving you a teasing smile. 

You laughed a bit as you nodded and went to sit across from him on his bed, crossing your legs under yourself. He handed over his notebook and you spent the next fifteen minutes “testing” him and, much to your happy surprise, he knew everything. 

“You are, in fact, ready for this final, Harrington,” You smiled at him. “I see an A+ in your future.”  

“Thank you,” He said, smiling back as he reached out to pull you into his lap and the notebook became discarded to the side.

You rested your hands on his shoulders and his settled on your hips. 

“I’ve missed you,” You told him before you thought about what you were saying, and then you were quickly shaking your head at yourself. “Sorry, I know that probably sounds so dumb to say because, before this, the last time we saw each other was only three days ago, and it’s not like we didn’t text and stuff… But, I don’t know—”

He cut off your rambling with a quick kiss. “It’s not dumb. I’ve missed you too. I’m so glad finals are gonna be over tomorrow.” 

“Me too,” You said and then thought about something. “Well, I’m technically already done with everything, but you’re gonna ace your test tomorrow. What time is it at?”

“One.” 

You nodded at that and then looked over at the digital clock on his nightstand and took note of the time; it was only a few minutes past eleven-thirty right then. 

“Okay, good, so you don’t have to kick me out yet?”

He immediately shook his head at your question. “I’d never kick you out. Even if the test was at eight in the morning.” 

There was a playful tilt to his words, but you could also hear how true they were, which warmed something inside of you. You kissed him instead of saying anything else in response. 

Your hands settled in the hair at the nape of his neck as you pushed yourself closer to him, getting rid of the little bit of space between you two. 

It wasn’t the first time you two had been in this position— you in his lap or just simply being this close to one another. However, this was the first time that it finally felt right to do more, and you suddenly really wanted to do more. 

Other times, you and him had been at your place and things were noisy and it felt as if you two could be interrupted at any given moment, so you always slowed things down instead of pushing them forward. This time, though, you didn’t want to keep things slow or ease away from him. There was no need to— no potential interruption a few feet away, or random noises that carried through thin walls. 

You had never cherished the quiet as much as you did in this moment in Steve’s bedroom. 

Slowly, you moved yourself against him, searching for any sort of friction, and the soft groan you received from him in response made you smile and do it again and again. You could feel him growing hard beneath you with every teasing stir, straining against his sweatpants. 

“Shit,” Steve’s hands immediately went to your hips again and gave them a quick squeeze as you continued your slow movements. 

“Is that okay?” You had a feeling that you knew what his answer was going to be, but you still asked it anyway and tried to sound as innocent and normal as ever. 

He let out a contented sound. “Much more than just okay.”

“Good,” You responded and then leaned into his ear as you softly said your next words. “I want you, Steve.”

He gave your hips another squeeze. “Yeah?”

He was sort of guiding you at this point, controlling your movements; making you move a little quicker and then slowing you down again. It was subtle but so fucking hot and you could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. You desperately wanted to slip out of the simple pair of leggings you were wearing so that there could be one less layer between you two. 

“Mhm, yeah,” You answered his one-word barely heard question and then pulled back to meet his eyes. “Please.”

Steve didn’t need to be told twice. 

He shifted things with ease— switching positions so that you were pressed back into the bed and he was settled between your now parted legs. 

His fingers teased the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing, and you expected him to push it up and off of you, but he instead slipped beneath your shirt and found the waistband of your leggings so that he could pull them off of you. 

The cool air hitting your now bare legs sent a chill through your body and your eyes slipped shut for a moment. When they opened again, you expected to immediately meet Steve’s eyes, but he was instead focused solely on the wet spot on your underwear. 

“You’re soaked, aren’t you?” He asked as he started stroking your inner thigh, another action that sent something equivalent to a chill through your entire body. 

You nodded shyly, closing your eyes again. “Yeah…”

You felt his hands find the bottom of your t-shirt again and that time he guided it off of you, leaving you in just your black bra. He leaned down to kiss you; it was slow and sweet like you two had all of the time in the world and it genuinely felt that way. “What do you want?”

“Mmm,” It was hard to answer when your brain could barely form any coherent sentences. You could feel his hand traveling upward, getting closer and closer to where you needed him to be, but it was too hard to verbalize that right then. “Fuck…”

“Go on, pretty girl, use your words,” Steve said, and the sweet term of endearment made your heart flutter wildly in your chest. 

His middle finger ghosted over your clit through your soaked underwear and your hips bucked upward, but he pulled his hand away before you could feel anything and you suddenly felt so close to crying. “Fingers— Your fingers, Steve. Please.”

“Mhm,” He hummed softly and your eyes were shut but you could tell he was smirking. You were close to playfully calling him an asshole for all of his teasing but your brain was still practically running on autopilot, and then he was speaking again, anyway. “Anything for you.”

Your underwear was pulled off of you in one slow movement and you whimpered when you felt Steve’s middle finger trace through your soaked folds, gathering your slick and leisurely circling your clit. His other hand came up to firmly squeeze one of your breasts through the thin material of your bra that was the last piece of clothing left on your body. 

“Take this off for me, honey,” He told you and you listened almost embarrassingly fast; bra gone and tossed somewhere on his floor in a matter of seconds. 

“Good,” His finger continued teasing your clit, and the thumb of his free hand moved to rub your now exposed nipple. “Good girl.”

You barely had time to process the soft praise and what exactly it did to you before two of his fingers finally entered you and you sucked in the sharpest breath, all thoughts suddenly gone again. 

“Steve…” Was all you could manage to say in the quietest voice as your eyes slipped shut and you focused on the feel of his fingers inside of you, somehow quickly finding and hitting the most perfect spots. 

“You look so good like this,” Steve whispered, fingers slowly picking up speed and making you softly whine at every movement. “Spread out for me and squeezing my fingers so tight. Fuck.”

A part of you wanted to say something back— match his words and tell him how fucking perfect all of this was, how perfect he was— but your brain was effectively mush and all you could do was moan and whimper and mewl in response to him. Lucky for you, that all sounded like music to his ears.  

He added another finger and his thumb found your clit, which made your body jerk harshly off of the bed.

“Steve, fuck. Right… Right there, yeah.”

The rough strokes against your clit pushed you so close to the edge, you could feel the pressure starting to build in your lower stomach. You turned your head, burying your face into his pillow and trying your hardest to hold back the scream you wanted to let out.

“Shit,” He said. “You gonna come, honey?” 

You quickly nodded. “Yes, yeah.”

“Go ahead,” He told you, voice low. “Come for me.”

Your eyes opened and you met his gaze as you did. He looked completely enamored by you, which only made your orgasm hit you a thousand times harder. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears as Steve continued fingering you through your orgasm, trying to prolong it for as long as possible. He withdrew his fingers when he could tell that the overstimulation was becoming too much for you. 

“You’re so good for me,” He said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “That was so fast.”

Finally, your brain was able to form coherent sentences. “You’re so cocky.”

Steve let out the softest laugh. “Mm, but you love it.”

He was a thousand percent right, but you still shook your head. “Hate it, actually.”

“Doesn’t feel that way,” He said as he pressed the most featherlight touch against your sensitive clit and all you could do was softly whine at the feeling. 

He was smiling as he lay down next to you and pulled you close to him, the side of your head pressing against his chest and one leg tangling with his. It was quiet as your breathing continued to return back to normal and your mind became clearer. After the briefest moment, your hand moved to dip beneath his sweatpants and boxers. 

Steve let out a low groan when your hand found his hard cock before he softly said, “We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” You told him and then moved so that you were straddling his lap again. Your arousal was practically dripping down your thighs and making the hottest mess against his sweatpants. “I need you inside of me.”

“Fuck,” His eyes slipped shut for a brief second as if imagining what was about to happen. “You sure?”

“Very sure. Really sure. Super sure,” You answered, smiling at him. 

Your hands went to grab at the ends of his t-shirt, pushing it upward, and he got the hint and quickly pulled it off. You then lifted your hips so that he could push down his sweatpants and boxers, and when his cock sprang free you let out a soft sound that slightly resembled a gasp. Your hand seemed to take on a mind of its own as it reached out to wrap around his hard length again and your thumb brushed against the tip.  

He let out a strangled noise. “Shit, shit.”

“Is this good?” You asked softly as you slowly started moving your hand. 

“So good. So fucking good.” 

It was nice seeing him become a mess due to your teasing like you’d been because of him a few minutes ago.

After barely a minute, he placed a hand on your wrist to stop your movements. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but then he was leaning over to his nightstand and rummaging through the top drawer to pull out a condom. You quickly grabbed it from him and did all of the work of slipping it on his cock, which he immediately thought was the hottest thing he’d ever seen and he was close to cumming right then and there, but he somehow managed to hold back. 

He so badly wanted to let his eyes fall shut as you slowly lowered onto him, but he kept his gaze on you and he promptly decided that that was probably one of the best decisions he ever made. There was nothing else that felt more like heaven to him than watching you throw your head back and let out the loudest moan as you took him inside of you completely. 

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” Steve groaned, still not taking his eyes off of you, and you could only nod in response. 

You didn’t move for a few moments. Instead, you savored and got used to the feeling of being so full of him. When you did finally start moving, lifting yourself ever so slightly and then sinking right back down onto Seve’s length, you let out a string of curses that morphed into soft moans.

Your hands became lost in his hair at some point and he had a near-bruising grip on your hips as he guided your movements, helping you ride him. 

He flipped you two over when he couldn’t take it anymore, hand finding your hip as he pushed deep inside of you. 

“Fuck, Steve!” 

The thrusts were rough and quick but surprisingly didn’t feel as such.

“You feel so good,” He told you. “You’re so fucking perfect for me.”

You could feel yourself clenching around him when he said his words and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second.  

“You gonna come?” You mumbled, brain barely about to form a coherent sentence, but Steve nodded wildly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, honey, so close.”

You mewled. “Mm, me too.” 

Upon hearing that, he let one of his hands slip between your bodies to find your clit. He started circling the sensitive nub, bringing you closer and closer to that edge with him. You clenched around his cock again and your back arched off the bed, hard nipples brushing against his chest. 

You came when his lips abruptly found yours in the messiest kiss; it was a mix of tongues and teeth that was perfect and pushed you over the cliff. You cried out his name again and again and again as your orgasm abruptly hit you, it almost sounded as if you were saying some sort of prayer. Steve followed suit moments after, spilling into the condom with a loud groan after a particularly hard thrust.  

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest and it barely felt like it was slowing down, but eventually it did. Steve’s weight crushed you in the most soothing way possible and he buried his face in your neck, placing soft kisses against the skin. 

You had no idea what time it was and you felt too exhausted to turn your head and look at his nightstand. 

“Do you have to kick me out now?” You asked, mostly joking with your question. 

Steve pulled away from your neck then, eyes meeting yours. “You’re staying the night.”

You were too tired to play into your joke further so you nodded your head at his words and simply tilted your head up to kiss him instead. You two fell asleep just like that for the time being, exhausted bodies and tangled limbs.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You smiled when Steve opened the door and you fought the urge to greet him with a hug and kiss like you normally did because in this instance you were holding something behind your back. “Hi.”

“Hi,” He smiled back before giving you a curious look when he noticed that you were hiding something. “What do you got there?”

“A surprise,” You answered as you stepped inside his apartment. “A very important surprise, actually.” 

“Really?”

“Mhm,” You nodded and he looked at you expectantly but you let a silence linger for a few beats to make things more dramatic. After what felt like way too long of a pause, you showed him what you were holding, which at first didn’t look like anything special since all he saw was a gray plastic bag, but then you pulled out the package inside. “They’re curtains for your living room!” 

Steve smiled at you immediately and you could tell he was trying to hold back a laugh. “Finally.” 

“Do I get the ‘best girlfriend ever’ award now?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh a little then as he reached out to pull you into his arms and then he pressed a kiss against the top of your head. “Yes, a thousand percent.”

“And they’re black too so they’ll block out the sun perfectly in the morning,” You told him as you returned the embrace for a brief second and then pulled back. “Come on, let’s put them up now.” 

It took an hour to put the curtains up— the directions were a lot more confusing and meticulous than expected— but once it was done they looked great.  

“Now we can fall asleep out here whenever we want,” You said when you and Steve were settled on his couch.

His hand mindlessly stroked one of your legs that were resting in his lap. “I think I’d much rather be in my bed with you.”

You looked at him, a teasing smile on your lips. “We haven’t had sex on the couch yet, though, and now it’s a possibility because we don’t have to worry about the people across the street looking in.” 

“That’s a great idea,” Steve said, smiling back as his hand moved up to slip beneath your shirt and rest on your waist.

You were slightly tempted to lean into his touch, but you shook your head instead.

“Wait, no, let’s save that for later. We have other important things to do right now,” You said, and when he gave you a confused look, you leaned over to lightly poke his side. “You said you were gonna show me your favorite movie. That was the reason why I came over. Aside from gifting you your curtains, of course.”  

“Oh, yeah,” He nodded as he leaned over to grab the TV remote off of the coffee table. “I haven’t seen this movie in a long time, probably since I was a kid, but for some reason it was the first thing that came to mind when I was thinking about movies I really like.” 

Seconds later, he was pulling up Big Fat Liar, which you didn’t at all expect, but it was the best surprise. The smallest part of you had thought that he was going to out himself as a film bro and force you to watch some Martin Scorcese movie with him. This outcome was a thousand times better. 

“I love this movie,” You told him, smiling. You also hadn’t seen it in forever, but in your eyes, it was still a classic. “It was one of the three that would play on repeat in my house when I was a kid; the other ones were Mulan and the second Spy Kids movie. At one point, my parents hid the DVDs away from me since I played them so much. I did manage to find them, though.” 

Steve gave you an amused smile. “Now I’m imagining a five-year-old you ruining your entire house to find the movies.”

You let out a laugh. “Whatever image you’re coming up with is probably very accurate.” 

“Hey, since we’re on the parent topic, I feel like I need to talk to yours.” 

You immediately laughed again, assuming he was joking, but when he didn’t join in on your laughter or give you a playful smile, you stopped. “Oh, you’re being serious.” 

“As your real boyfriend this time around, I think I should probably meet your parents before we go to a different country again,” He said, playfully smiling at you, but you were certain that he was actually being serious. If it weren’t for his abrupt mention of your parents, you would’ve happily smiled at him bringing up your and his plans for the summer; plans that actually managed to come together pretty fast. 

The day that Steve finished his last final, he came over to your place and you two spent hours upon hours figuring out your plans for the summer; the places you both wanted to go, specific things to do and spots to eat in said places, where to spend the most time and where to spend the least, etc. All of the research was exhausting— you had ended up falling asleep around three in the morning with your head on Steve’s shoulder and your computer opened up in your lap— but it was the good kind of exhausting if that was even possible. The entire thing was impulsive and abrupt, two factors that could’ve easily made the whole thing be deemed as a bad idea, but you truly felt like it wouldn’t be. 

You were quiet for a few moments, processing Steve’s previous words, and then you gave him a quick nod. “Okay, yeah, um, sure.”

He was easily able to pick up that something was at least a little wrong. “Yeah?”

“Yup,” You nodded again, looking away from him then and focusing on the TV. You were about to shift the conversation back to talking about the movie, but he started talking before you could.

“If you don’t want them to meet me yet, that’s okay.” 

“No, no, you’re right. It would make sense if you met them. Like, if we did a quick phone call or whatever,” You said and then let out a sigh. You got quiet again and tried to figure out the best way to say what you really didn’t want to; talking about your parents was a hard feat. You had barely gotten to the point where you felt like you could easily do it with Eddie or Robin or anyone else.

Your eyes were still on the TV when you spoke again and decided to be entirely honest with Steve. “It’s just… It’s really hard talking to them sometimes. Like, talking about myself with them. Life stuff. It always feels like they won’t care.”

Steve’s hand found yours, intertwining them and giving a light squeeze. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“You’d be surprised,” You told him and then finally met his eyes again. There was a soft look on his face that you wanted to get rid of, so you quickly tried to make things lighthearted and a lot less serious and sad. “You don’t need to talk to them. The only parental approval you need is from Robin, which you have, so everything’s fine.”

Steve nodded and didn’t push you further on everything, even though you could tell he kind of wanted to. Weird and strained parent relationships weren’t foreign to him, but you could tell that he was wondering if it really was only just about that. It was a thought that you quickly wanted to shut down.

“And I promise this really isn’t about you. It’s completely about them. If I had actual good parents, I would love to tell them about you and how much I adore you, and how I can’t wait to spend the summer with you. And I’d probably go into an annoyingly deep amount of detail about what all of our plans are,” You rambled and the smile he gave you warmed your heart. “But, I don’t have good parents, so we don’t need to worry about telling them anything.”

“So, if they randomly call when we’re in London, that’s when you’ll break the news?” His question was playful and lighthearted and just what you wanted to hear right then.

“Yes, exactly, that sounds like perfect timing,” You answered, laughing a little. “Y’know this whole parent conversation is making me realize that your parents are probably gonna hate when you tell them that we’re together, or I guess, “back” together. Your mom really didn’t like me.” 

It was a weird set of circumstances that you weren’t entirely sure how it would be solved. Even before Steve told them that you two had broken up because you “cheated,” you could tell that his mom wasn’t at all a fan of you and wanted Steve to be with anyone else. Probably a girl handpicked from a specific list. 

“Remember when you told me that it’s my life, and I should do what I want because I have to live it?” He asked, and you nodded, the smallest smile on your face.

“I’m what you want?” It was a question that you were certain of the answer to, but you still had the urge to ask it. 

Steve nodded as he pulled your intertwined hands up so that he could press a quick kiss to the back of yours. “Always. You just got the ‘best girlfriend ever’ award, remember?”

You smiled wider as you nodded back. “Ah yes, you can never break up with me, no matter what your parents say, because of the curtains.”

“Exactly.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The party had been an idea since mid-March. Robin randomly suggested it to you and Vickie one night— “How fucking cool would it be if we threw a graduation party for Talia?”— and you both immediately agreed. 

And now, a month and a half later, here it was. Over thirty people were crammed into your guys’ apartment, but everyone was having fun— especially Talia, which was all that really mattered— so it made the mess that you’d all have to clean up in the morning worth it. 

It was pretty safe to say that you were drunk. It was actually a statement that could’ve been said just an hour into the party, but it was even more certain now as the second hour moved into the third. 

You currently lingered by Eddie who, right at the start of the party, had appointed himself as the one in charge of the music, which didn’t surprise any of you. He was sitting with your laptop that was connected to the speakers set up in the living room. Every few minutes you jokingly suggested songs for him to play and he kept playfully shooing you away and vetoed all of your suggestions. When he actually did play the Pitbull song you requested, you laughed for what felt like five minutes straight. 

Eddie shook his head at you, but there was a smile on his face, like he wanted to laugh at your current antics. “You’re so drunk right now.” 

You had enough self-awareness to know that you couldn’t argue with his words, so you simply stuck your tongue out at him instead. 

He couldn’t hold back his laugh that time. “And that confirms it.” 

You started walking away then and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up when he told you to “Stay safe!” as you wandered off. You headed into the kitchen for no particular reason— a part of you wanted another drink, but you could also recognize how bad of an idea that would be. You considered grabbing some food; a room-temperature slice of pizza didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world right then. 

A pair of hands abruptly grabbing your waist made you jump and yelp. The touch didn’t feel entirely unfamiliar, though, so when you turned and saw Steve in front of you, you were quick to smile at him even though your heart was still racing.  

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him tonight, and you also couldn’t remember how exactly you two had gotten split up in the first place. 

“Sorry for scaring you.” 

That was suddenly the last thing on your drunken mind. 

“Hi,” You said, practically jumping into his arms. “Where’ve you been?”

He laughed a bit at your enthusiasm. “Talking to Robin. She was rambling about this one summer class that she signed up for, and then she roped me into playing a drinking game version of Uno with her and a couple of her music major friends.” 

“Oh, that makes sense. That’s one of her favorite things to do at a party. It gets very intense so I always stay away,” You said, and then noticed his flushed cheeks and lazy smile which made you laugh a little. “How much were you forced to drink during the game?” 

“A lot,” He admitted and then proceeded to give you the most exaggerated sad look that you’d probably ever seen. “Turns out I kinda suck at Uno.”

You let out a soft “Aw” and leaned in to kiss his cheek, playing into how “sad” he was. “You should’ve let me warn you how good Robin is at that game. That’s why we never play it at game night anymore.” 

Steve’s hands settled on your waist and he pulled you close. You so badly wanted to kiss him at that moment, and there was so much going on around you both right then that you were certain that nobody would’ve paid attention to the two of you making out in the kitchen. 

Instead of doing that though, you pulled away from him abruptly. Your hand found his and you started pulling him out of the kitchen.

“Where are we going?” He asked, and you weren’t looking at him, but you could hear the amused smile in his voice. 

“I need to show you something in my room,” You answered and then took a quick glance at him. “It’s super important.”

When the door was closed behind you two, you looked at Steve and he gave you a certain look. 

“What did you wanna show me?”

“Hmm, weirdly enough, I completely forgot,” You gave him a quick shrug and a small smile before getting closer to him and circling your arms around his torso.

“Oh my god, did you bring me in here to seduce me?” He asked, returning the embrace immediately, and the playfulness in his tone made you let out the softest laugh. 

“Maybe a teeny tiny little bit.”

“That’s very cute.” 

You lifted your head from his chest and finally kissed him. It felt like it had been years since the last time you’d kissed him and it was definitely your inebriation making you so hyperbolic and over-dramatic because the actual last time was definitely just a few hours ago, but you still savored the feeling of his lips on yours. 

Steve’s hand found your cheek and he deepened the kiss immediately. You inwardly sighed in contentment and your hands fisted themselves in the shirt he was wearing and pulled him impossibly closer to you. 

It was when he started guiding you back toward your bed that the tiniest bit of logical thinking suddenly sunk in and you broke the heated kiss. “Wait, shit, anyone could walk in.”

Steve considered your words for a moment and then walked over to your door to lock it. “Problem solved.”

The door being locked didn’t change the fact that you could still be interrupted by any sort of harsh knock against it, but who were you to deny his logic in this moment and the stupidly happy smile on his face?

You let out a breath of a laugh as you nodded in agreement. “Problem solved.” 

It was a blur of movements that led you two to laying on your bed— Steve on top of you and settled perfectly between your legs. Your skirt had ridden up into oblivion and his jeans-covered hard-on was rubbing against you in the best way possible. 

“I can’t wait to spend the summer with you,” You mumbled at one point. Steve’s mouth had moved from your lips to your jaw and then down to your neck. 

“Just the summer?” He mumbled against your skin. “You planning to get rid of me after that?”

You mock gasped. “Oh no, you caught me.”

He nipped harshly at your neck, which made you giggle. 

One of your hands came up to find his face, pulling him away from your neck so you could meet his eyes in the darkness. “I can’t wait to spend the summer with you, and also many, many days and years after that.”

“Mm, that’s what I like to hear.”

You two were very drunk and it was obvious that most of your words were exaggerated, but your previous statement didn’t entirely feel that way. 

Steve’s lips found yours again and you let out a happy hum in response. His hand moved higher and higher on your thigh which made you moan softly, and you felt so tempted to grab his hand and guide it right where you needed it to be. 

Before you could do any of that or even contemplate it further, there was a loud knock on your door and then you heard Robin’s voice. “Are you two in there?” 

“No!” You yelled out loud enough for her to hear. “Nobody’s in here.”

“We’re about to do the cake, so your presence out here is very importantly needed!” 

The smallest part of you wanted to say no and resume what you were doing with Steve, but you couldn’t.

Your eyes met Steve’s for a second before you shut them. “Okay, we’re coming!” 

“Thank you!”

Steve pressed a quick peck against your lips and then rolled off of you. “We’ll pick this up later.”

You followed suit and stood up from your bed, readjusting your skirt in the process. “I can’t promise I won’t pass out before then.”

“In that case, I’ll make sure to carry you back here and tuck you into bed,” He said with a smile as he circled an arm around you.

You sighed dreamily and leaned into his touch. “Ugh, you’re too good to me.”

He laughed a bit and then pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “You’re also way too good to me. Remember last night at the arcade? You actually let me beat you at air hockey.”

You quickly shook your head. “Shh, you weren’t supposed to know that.”

“I’m sorry, but you made it very obvious,” He said, laughing again, and that time you couldn’t help but laugh too. 

You got the sudden urge to pull him back into your bed. Not even to do anything that would lead to both of your clothes coming off in the process, but to just simply talk to him. About nothing and everything until you fell asleep and woke up with what you assumed would be the worst headache. It had only been a few weeks, but you had quickly gotten to the point where you wanted to tell everything to Steve; every one of your random thoughts or whatever else was on your mind. And you always did, and he did the same. 

Of course, you knew that you couldn’t do that right in this moment because another knock from Robin was inevitable. So you instead laced Steve’s hand with yours and led you both back into the noise of the party. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff , @lilacccs , @thehairington86 , @welcometohellsock , @dreamerjj , @newyorkangelbaby

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

[w2soneshots]

Oh Haz -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: angst, commitment issues.

summary: Harry freaks out and bolts when you tell him that you love him, so he has to figure out a way to make it up to you.

notes: hello loves! I have a few requests to write but I thought of this fic all by myself🙊 (for once😅). I hope you enjoy!!💘🫶🏼

"So you told him that you love him and he just... left?" Talia asked in disbelief as we ate lunch. I nodded. "What a prick! Did he say anything?" "No. He stuttered for a second then got up off the bed, grabbed his coat and made a b-line for the front door." I replied. Me and Harry have been seeing each other for almost four months now and I've known that I love him for over a month. I decided to wait a little while because I didn't want him to freak out but it seems I should've waited even longer.

That night, after talking things over with Talia, all I could think about was him. Worried in case I'd completely fucked everything up. Eventually I decided that it wasn't my fault. If he wasn't ready to commit after a whole four months then maybe he didn't like me as much as I thought he did. I just wanted him to text me because I wasn't sure what was going on. The last time I spoke to him was the night he left, I've heard nothing since then.

The next day I got up and got ready for work. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, pinned my hair back, applied a little bit of makeup then got dressed into a matching skirt and blazer suit along with tights and some black heels. After quickly eating some breakfast I grabbed my bag and drove to the building in which I work.

The day dragged on and so I couldn't wait to get home, get into my pyjamas, order a takeout and watch some trashy tv. Once I was finally finished I said good night to my boss and headed home.

My heels clicked on the tiled floor as I walked towards the front of my apartment. My brows furrowed as I noticed something on my doorstep. Once I was a close enough I realised what it was. I picked up the bouquet of white flowers then unlocked my apartment door and went inside.

I set the flowers on my kitchen counter and walked into my bedroom to change into some comfy clothes. Once I was finished I took a closer look at the roses. A note was placed inside. I pulled it out then opened it. The note read: "I'm sorry about the other day. Can I make it up to you with dinner tomorrow night? -Harry x" I smiled. He could've just sent me a text but this was way cuter and meant a lot more.

I sent him a quick message: "thank you for the flowers. Do you wanna meet at our usual spot at 7 ish?" He replied quickly, "yeah, that's perfect. See u then." I set my phone down and enjoyed the rest of my night but not before I called Talia to tell her about what had happened in the past twenty minutes and she also thought that the flowers were adorable.

After getting a good sleep I woke up in a great mood. Thankfully it was also my day off so I went to run some errands before I came back and began getting ready for mine and Harry's date. I took a warm shower, took time to do my hair and makeup then slipped into a cute dress that I had brought earlier that day. Once I was finished I left my apartment and drove to the restaurant me and Harry always go to; since we both love it and it's where we had our first date.

I parked my car then headed inside. I was quickly met with a waitress who took me to a quiet table at the back. Harry hadn't arrived yet so I sat patiently on my phone while I waited.

"Hey." I looked up to see Harry. "Hi." I stood to greet him. We shared a quick hug before both sitting down. "How are you?" He asked. "Good. You?" It was awkward, which is what I expected. "I feel awful, you know- because of the other day. I owe you an explanation." He began seriously. I smiled lightly at him since I could tell he was very nervous.

He took a deep breath. "I uh- my last relationship was really fast and it ended quickly as well. I think I freaked out because I um- I didn't want the same thing to happen with us 'cause... I love you, like a lot." He didn't look me in the eyes until he said the last sentence. My features softened. "Oh Haz, I understand. We can take it as slow as you need. And I'm really relieved that you feel the same." I replied.

The mood changed quickly and we enjoyed our night like nothing had even happened. Harry invited me over to his apartment afterwards and as we lay together on his bed, my head rested on his chest and his fingers gently playing with my hair, I felt so happy.

[theredcuyo]

Late night idea

Batman doesn't talk about his life at all, not to the league at least, and no matter how much they try, he's pretty closed off

Except for one thing, his kids, his 'babies' as he sometimes spills saying, if you want to hear Batman's voice for over two hours with no pauses just ask about them

And everyone thinks this are actual children and not full grown vigilantes

"My babyboy, he's just so talented, his jumps are so magnificent"

They think it's a and actual baby learning to jump, no, Bruce is talking about Dick's latest landing on a catwalk

"Oh, my little boy? He just started writting, he's so creative with his words"

They think it's a kid learning to write, Bruce is remembering Jason writting a ramson note in careful detail

"My sunshine? He was using the computer the other day, i still don't know how he found the access to the FBI's most classified list, he just has squeaky fingers"

A kid not knowing what he was doing, for sure

And yeah, Tim was trying something else and he and Bruce haven't yet figured out the process that got him there, but there are no complains

"About the... "babybat"? Oh, he's such an artist, i pay him to be able to display his art"

Just a doting father

Yes, but also, Bruce literally payed for whole gallery to display Damian's paintings, and he money-fought Talia to buy as many as possible for him to have at the office

"My princess? She's perfect"

He has favorites

And they are right this time

[catgrandpa]

I started this post with the intention of asking for fic recs where Bruce gets his kids early, but then I ended up just writing some ficlets

_(:3 」∠)_

I still really just want recs I swear but I wrote these anyway and am incapable of doing more with them so here

☆彡

Dick Grayson is 8 years old when he watches his parents die. Bruce is 24 years old when he sees a young boy’s life fall to pieces. He’s far too young to be a single father. But he sees too much of himself in the child, and he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to walk away from him.

He talks to Alfred about his fears of only furthering Dick’s trauma by failing him as a guardian. It takes some time, but Alfred is able to convince Bruce to find a therapist and take some discreet parenting classes. He’s still Batman, and I don’t think he’s capable of Gentle Parenting™ but he does do better. Plus, Dick is young enough to learn to read Bruce before the teenage hormones kick in so they manage to communicate much more effectively with each other.

☆彡

Bruce meets Catherine Todd by chance because there was a cool park Dick wanted to stop at. She’s trying to deal with her hungry and fussy 3 year old step son, but she’s young and stressed out and hungry herself and she just doesn’t know what to do. Bruce offers to take them out for lunch. He asks Dick to take Jason to the play area in the corner while they talk.

She breaks down and tells him of her struggles with addiction. She does her best to keep Jason fed, but it’s so hard. Feeding him means she goes hungry most of the time because she can’t quit using. Jason wouldn’t survive if she had to go through withdrawals with him.

He’s not even her kid! Not really. Her husband is just an abusive deadbeat so she doesn’t have a choice. She does love him, but she never wanted kids, and she can’t just let a child die when she can do something.

Bruce fills their fridge and cabinets to the brim (he offers to do much more for them but that’s all she will budge on. She has too much pride to accept outright charity, but she will do what she can to keep her kid safe) and he makes it clear to her that he is willing to take care of Jason for however long is necessary when she decides to take the first step to get clean.

Two months later, Willis gets arrested and Catherine shows up at Wayne Manor and tells Bruce she signed up for inpatient, but she thinks it would be best for Jason and for herself if Bruce would be willing to take permanent custody. She stays in Jason’s life, just not as a mother figure.

☆彡

A year or so later, Bruce gifts Alfred with a vacation as an early birthday present. Things have been hectic with the sudden acquisition of two sons, and Alfred has done so much, he deserves a break. Bruce promises he’ll be able to handle two kids on his own.

Turns out, he was mostly right, but only just barely. The kids are fine, the manor not so much. He ends up hiring a few services to help out with general housekeeping. A couple of those workers also happen to be regular hires for the Drakes.

Bruce overhears them talking about how sad it is that those awful people treat their toddler more like a doll than a child. He learns that not only do they leave for long periods at a time while not hiring a proper nanny to watch over their son, just expecting the help to take care of him, but they also lock him away on his own whenever it’s ’not fashionable’ to have a 2 year old around.

Alfred comes back to the manor on August 15th, just in time to celebrate his and Master Jason’s birthdays together. He opens the door and dodged around a very excited 4 year old jumping up and down in the entry hall.

“ALFIE! ALFIE! BOOSE GOT ME A BABY BWOTHER FOR MY BIRFDAY! LOOK! LOOK! HIMS NAME IS TIMMY AND HE’S THE BESTEST!”

Alfred leans over to peak behind the boy, and sees a very quiet, very small child standing behind him.

“Oh, dear.”

☆彡

The day Bruce got the call from Talia telling him she was pregnant with his child was one of the best days of Bruce’s life. The day she called to tell him she miscarried was one of the worst.

The only blessing was that he didn’t need to explain it to his kids. Talia was going to move in once she was in her second trimester, and they planned to reveal her pregnancy together.

He got the call two weeks before her flight out. He begged her to come anyway, he loved her, they could still be a family. She refused.

Six and a half months later, he walks into his bedroom to find Talia standing by the window with a squirming bundle in her arms. With equal measures steel and sorrow in her eyes she tells Bruce she is sorry for what she put him through, but it was the only way to keep their son safe. He gathers them both in his arms and holds them tight as she explains.

Her father had planned to raise an heir to be the Demon Head. He would be kept a secret from Batman until the very end. But when Talia gave the final push to birth their son, he came out quiet. She panicked for a moment until her midwife quietly leaned down to listen to the baby’s breathing and then looked up with a soft smile, she bundled up the small thing and handed Talia her baby. Big beautiful green eyes blinked up at her. The midwife leaned closer to Talia and whispered, “Sadly, your son was stillborn. I’m deeply sorry for your loss, but surely The Great Head of the Demon would be willing to allow you some time away from your duties while you recover.” Talia allowed the woman to cover her beautiful cooing baby gently with soft linen and silk and carry him from the room. Later that night she left her home with her son and boarded the first flight to Gotham.

Tears gather on Bruce’s lashes and he tells her everything will be alright because now they can finally be together as a family. Once more, she refuses. She tells him Damian and his boys are far too precious for her to bring the danger of the league of assassins to their door. Bruce closes his eyes in sorrow, but nods his acceptance. He asks her to at least stay the night together. They fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms with their baby boy safely bundled between them. Talia is gone when he wakes.

☆彡

It’s been one week since Talia left and, while still beyond upset, Bruce feels like he’s starting to have a decent handle on things. He is sitting with his boys at the breakfast table, Dick and Jason to his left, Tim to his right, Damian in his arms, and Alfred across from him. They’re finally able to have a relaxing breakfast. No babies crying, no food fights, no arguing, just the sounds of eating and gentle chatter.

He feels a small hand grab his right sleeve and give a gentle tug.

“Boo?” Tim asks, quietly. Bruce feels his heart warm at his son finally feeling like he can speak up without permission.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why isn’t Big Sister sitting with us?”

Alfred is the only person in the room other than Tim to not startle at the sudden appearance of a 5 year old girl standing next to Bruce at the dining table. He simply sighs, stands up, and grabs another place setting for her at the table.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

Yan Batfam x Vigilante Reader

Okay, this one is a bit more simpler than the cult one!

Reader is a vigilante in anywhere but America (haven't figured out the country yet) and ends up going to Gotham for a mission.

The mission is simple: take down Darlene Cinder (a nemesis of yours) and stop her evil plan.

Batfam get involved due to it being "their territory"

I believe Oracle would be the first to notice Reader through the security cameras around the city and would then inform the others.

It would be Dick and Batman who confront the reader. This is because Dick is less likely to set off a fight or flight response - he's too friendly.

Reader explains why they're in Gotham and how it's only for a short while and that they won't interfere with anything else.

Batman allows Reader to do their mission so long as they leave straight after. Batman, being Batman, does a deep dive on Reader with Tim so they already know Reader's secret identity and whatnot in case anything goes south.

Now, I don't fully know who it'll be but for now I'll just say Damian.

Damian has gotten separated from the family and is hiding from paparazzi and fans when he stumbles across Reader.

Reader, being a civilian, immediately fangirls over getting to meet him (fake enthusiasm, I strongly believe the only people that actually care about the Wayne family are Gothamites and paparazzi).

Reader is a busy person and had plans to check out a museum for the villain. Damian tags along to escape paparazzi (again, Damian probably won't be the character in this).

Damian ends up getting close to Reader when he chats with them, finding their determination as a good fit for Gotham.

Damian goes back to the manor and tells everyone. Bruce quickly explains that Reader will only stay for until they finish their mission and Damian gets pissy.

Tim ends up inviting Reader over for dinner (how they got close will be explained in the proper story and they come.

The family starts to obsess over the reader.

Character included:

Damian al Ghul-Wayne

Tim Drake

Duke Thomas (I know how to fit him into this one)

Bruce Wayne

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson

Cassandra Cain

Stephanie Brown

Talia al Ghul

Selina Kyle

[frownyalfred]

Hi!!!! What do you think about the fandoms characterisation of Dicks and Damian’s relationship???

A lot of the fans replace Dick with Bruce in terms of who is Damian’s father. Idek but it gets annoying when it’s all “oh Bruce may be Damian’s father, but dick is his dad”

Thanks <3

I go back and forth on it, tbh. Damian needed a dad, but he was a surprise to Bruce. Dick handled it much better than Bruce did for a while, but Bruce eventually came around (depending on the canon). A lot of siblings raise their younger family members in the absence of a parent, so it makes sense that Damian would be drawn to Dick as a more grounded and sympathetic parental figure. And that Dick would be able to connect with Damian more easily than Bruce, who was still reeling from the shock of finding out Talia lied.

But does that make Dick his dad? I don’t know. It’s kind of like saying older Bruce raising Dick as his ward was his dad. Yes, on paper there’s a parental relationship but — the ages are so off. Bruce was young and Dick wasn’t that much younger than him.

Their relationship was more like an older brother raising a younger one, and that shows a lot in the dynamics between them later in life. Not saying he can’t be a full dad to Dick or that he doesn’t take that role on but — their relationship isn’t as clear cut either.

So yeah, it makes sense to me that Dick could model that same relationship with Damian. Not quite dad, not quite older brother. Still Batman, to Damian’s Robin, just like Bruce was Batman to him.

I guess when it comes to writing it, it depends on how much you want to make 1) Bruce the bad guy for being a bad/absent parent and 2) Dick the sacrificing parent who stepped up while Bruce was gone.

I tried to show in my fic borderline that that relationship isn’t sustainable long term - Dick trying to mollify Damian and Bruce standing to the side awkwardly does everyone a disservice. Dick is not a martyr. He’s a sibling trying his best. But also, sometimes that actually makes things worse, you know? Having a sibling raise the younger kids. It throws off the dynamics in so many families if you’re not careful. If that sibling doesn’t have resources and support, they’ll burn out.

[miryum]

The Canary and the Robin (Jason Todd x Reader)

Summary: You find Jason being tortured by the Joker and decided to take him in, imperfections and all. If he happens to be your soulmate, so be it

Warnings: I know reader acts like a white person in a horror movie but bear with me, OOC Talia, descriptions of torture, Joker hurting Jason, descriptions of flashbacks of torture, allusions to sexual assault from the Joker unto Jason but not descriptive at all, panic attack, ignore locations and timelines, timer soulmates once they turn 8, swearing, a lotta angst (literally starts out with Jason’s funeral), but happy ending, hurt/comfort, Jason doesn’t have guns or an autopsy scar in this cause he’s Robin still and lemme tell you it’s so unnatural for me to write him without those, perspective switching, conscious wording (so everything is written like that for a reason), Jason’s awful parents and their drinking and harassment (just descriptions on them yelling and drinking and smoking), spoilers to Great Gatsby, kinda open ended, but also not at all? if that makes sense, lemme know if I missed anything

Word Count: 12k so grab some snacks and tissues

Canary in a coal mine is a common term meant to describe something that’s unusually sensitive to conditions that make it a useful early indicator of negatively changing circumstances.

Jason’s funeral was on May 16th, just eight months after he had been taken by the Joker. Alfred had chosen daisies, lilacs, and lotuses for the flowers, but Bruce brought a bouquet of hyacinths to lay on his son’s casket. As much as Bruce Wayne liked to flaunt his wealth, these hyacinths were hand pulled from his own gardens. Roots and dirts still clung to the end of the stems when Jason’s coffin was lowered into the ground. 

Dick had come in from Bludhaven. When he had heard the news, his timer stopped and reversed itself until it added a year and a half onto his time. He had just gotten a brother and had been learning how to be a role model when his brother was dragged away from him, kicking and screaming. It wasn’t fair, Dick kept repeating to himself. A teenager shouldn’t be targeted just because he eagerly trailed on Batman’s heels, snarky comebacks and smirks ready to fire.

There was a public funeral where paparazzi clicked away at their cameras and Bruce stood stoically in the front row, clearing his throat at the podium when he had to make a eulogy. There was then a private funeral where the casket was actually lowered beneath a gladiolus bush. There were no eulogies for none of the family could bring themselves to say much. It was just Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Barbara. Selina Kyle showed up that night in Bruce’s room and Dick pretended not to hear Bruce’s sobs. Alfred stood in the doorway of Jason’s old room, feather duster in hand. After a couple of minutes, he hung his head and walked off, closing the door behind him. Nothing was cleaned.

The next day, tabloids displayed the pictures of Bruce Wayne standing by a casket. Bruce stopped investing in any companies that did. His own stock dropped, but Bruce wasn’t answering his financial advisor’s calls. He wasn’t answering any calls. 

It was late one night and Dick couldn’t sleep. He had been wanting to return to Bludhaven, but whenever he opened his suitcase, he couldn’t bring himself to pack. He found Alfred in the kitchen, pouring some hot tea. “I figured you would join me one night,” Alfred commented without looking back. 

Dick couldn’t help but chuckle, rubbing his eyes. “Your sixth sense is never wrong, Alfred.” 

Alfred slid a cup over to Dick who took it thankfully, not caring that the tea burnt his tongue. Perhaps it was what he deserved for not being there to help Jason. “I should’ve-”

“Mister Grayson,” Alfred cut him off. “The Joker was ten steps ahead of Batman. Not even the powerful Nightwing could’ve helped. And you could not have flown to Africa in time.” 

“It was closed casket,” Dick whispered out. “I didn’t even get to see my little brother before he was gone.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. 

“It was closed casket because Master Wayne couldn’t find Master Jason’s…” Alfred exhaled and corrected himself, “He couldn’t find Master Jason.”

Dick’s head lifted and his hands clenched around his cup. “What?” he breathed out. Desperation filled his voice, “but Alfie, he could still be out there! Jason could be alive!” Alfred simply gave him a stern look and Dick’s stomach bubbled with nausea. “Yeah,” he muttered bitterly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” His jaw tensed and after a moment, he decided, “I’m going to go back to Bludhaven tomorrow.”

“Safe travels,” is all Alfred said.

It was then that Bruce woke from a nightmare of his dead son screaming out for him.

~~~~

You hadn’t meant to be passing by Arkham Asylum. It wasn’t something one did intentionally; in fact, many people went out of their way to avoid it. But it seemed as if fate wasn’t on your side today, for when your car broke down right outside Arkham Asylum, you didn’t notice the watch on your wrist ticking down quicker and quicker. You swore to yourself and took the mace out of your glove compartment before sliding your keys in between your fingers. Arkham Asylum had been practically abandoned for years, but perhaps there was a janitor or receptionist who could help you get service. Then you could call a mechanic and get the hell out of there. 

The gates to Arkham had rust creeping up the edges and the lock clanged sharply against its chains. Maybe there wasn’t going to be a receptionist in the building… But perhaps there would be a phone you could use. In order for the gates to creak open, you had to force your bodyweight against the metal and try to shove the lock out of the way, praying you didn’t get tetanus in the process. 

The door to Arkham, however, swung open without a sound. It seemed as if someone had been regularly visiting the Asylum, even if there was no one to visit – or love – in the building. “Hello?” you stage whispered, phone flashlight on, and finger on the button on your mace. 

There was clearly a reason why the public wasn’t exposed to Arkham. All reports were classified and no photographers were allowed in. Wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, you stared around at Arkham Asylum. The halls were long and dark, meant to cause paranoia and confusion. It was certainly working on you. The only light peeking through was from the grime covered windows and your flashlight. The ceiling was crumbling slightly and you were pretty sure Arkham had been under construction when it had been abandoned; otherwise, how could you explain all the dust, debris, and graffiti? You didn’t even want to think of the disease-carrying rodents that were surely scurrying underneath your feet. 

“Is anything here? That can help me?” Your voice echoed down the cell block, vibrating off the metal bars and old bunks. 

You reeled back when your foot kicked a pebble, sending it ricocheting off your sneaker. After the pebble settled some yards away, you took in a steadying breath. You heard a faint sound, one that didn’t sound at all like a pebble. “Hello?” you asked again. Shadows danced around as you shone your flashlight down the hall, messing with your mind. 

When you strained your ears, it sounded as if a faint wail could be heard. Your brows furrowed with worry and instinctively, you started towards it. Your watch ticked down faster as disquietude and anxiety rippled through you like snakes, biting and twisting in your veins. Your flashlight bounced over empty, desolate cells as your pace quickened and the screams got louder. You contemplated calling the police, but when you checked your phone, you didn’t have any service. And who knew if the police would help or not? Arkham was a place only the brave or stupid went; right now, you were pretty sure you were the latter. 

The screams took you deeper and deeper into the Asylum and you prayed that you would be able to find your way out. If you ever got out… your mind immediately thought. 

It wasn’t long before the blood curdling howls shook you to your bones. They seemed to be coming from a cell, yet when you pointed your flashlight towards it, heart thumping at what you might find, there was nothing. But the screams were there. You weren’t making them up. Where the hell were they coming from– oh.

A shiver ran up your spine when you noticed the comical trapdoor in the corner of the cell. You wondered if the Arkham architects intentionally put it there when they were designing this horror house, or if an inmate had scraped a hidden passageway with a spoon they stole from the cafeteria. 

Nonetheless, when you pried open the door, a wall of whimpers and cries from torture hit you full force. You shook your head, steeling yourself, before swallowing down the queasiness. The goosebumps on your arms were full-time residents now. 

Your feet carried you down the dirt steps of the trapdoor. Your mind wasn’t particularly your own. Your brain was foggy. Your body felt like a child had taken your hand and was leading you down the steps. Later in your life, when you thought back to that moment, you knew the universe had been guiding you. But even if you didn’t make it out of Arkham Asylum, you knew your life was going to drastically change. The nonexistent hand squeezed yours in comfort as your heart jumped and pounded when the faint light at the bottom of the stairs grew brighter. 

A small chamber resided under Arkham Asylum, as you found out that day. In the chamber were two people. One held a crowbar dripping with blood. His back was turned to you, but any citizen of Gotham would recognise that pastel green and purple suit anywhere. The Joker was alive. 

But the second person caught your eye. He was strung up from the ceiling, crusty, brown chains trapping him midair. The red outfit he was wearing was being held together by tatters, but you didn’t know if the outfit was originally red or covered with blood. A black and yellow cape was clinging onto the victim’s back, burnt and torn. A green utility belt had been thrown in the corner, its pockets overturned and emptied. 

And your timer buzzed against your wrist.

You didn’t register it at first, but after a moment of incessant buzzing, you tore your horrified stare away from the ruined man and to your wrist. A crude joke bounced into your head: so either my soulmate is the Joker or someone who wronged him… Either way, not ideal. 

The Joker stood proud and tall, shoulders thrown back and grin wide. “Come on, Robby,” he taunted. “You and I both know these little excursions of ours go better when you make noise. How I love to make you sing…”

It was then you registered the Robin symbol on the man’s breast. You slowly pieced everything together, realising that the person in front of you was the presumably dead Robin. You couldn’t help the little, amazed curse word that slipped out from between your lips. 

The Joker slid out a syringe from his pocket and slunk up beside Robin, injecting the green serum into his neck. Joker chuckled as he pressed the liquid further into Robin’s neck, whispering into his ear, “now, now, you mustn’t leave me, Robby. But whatever would you leave for? Now that the Bats has forgotten you.” Joker was mercilessly teasing the sidekick, spit flicking onto his cheek. Robin whimpered, a parched and cracked noise from the back of his throat. 

“Louder, Robby, louder!” The Joker coaxed in a cooing voice. You grimaced and wanted to crawl out of your skin at his voice. Once you realised your mace wasn’t going to do you any good, your eyes darted around the small torture dungeon. Eventually, they landed on a discarded, bent pipe that had a disturbing red colour coated on. You willed yourself not to think of what the substance was. 

Even though Robin’s limp, swinging body was facing towards you, you doubted he could see you. With the drugs running through his veins, his vision would surely be blurred and his mind muddled.

It was just your luck when, as you were inching towards the pipe, your phone decided to work and began buzzing loudly, indicating a call from your friend, Talia. The Joker whirled around, crowbar in hand and you squealed, grabbing the pipe. Before the Joker could react, his eyes widening in shock, you swung the pipe at his head. With the clang of metal against skull, the Joker collapsed, unconscious. You stared down at him, disbelief flooding your body. Oh my god, I just killed the Joker. Or, at the very least, gave him a good concussion. Your hands shook as a little pool of blood seeped out from Joker’s head. You dropped the pipe and it clattered to the dirt floor. A little groan that escaped Robin and your still-ringing phone brought you back to Earth. 

“Shit, shit, I gotta get outta here,” you muttered, looking around frantically. Your phone kept ringing and with a swear, you brought it to your ear. “What?” you growled out. 

“Wow, what has your panties in a twist?” Talia asked back snarkily. 

You held your phone between your shoulder and your head as you hurried towards Robin. “Nothing, nothing, sorry,” you muttered as you attempted to free him from the chains. “Why’re you calling?”

“Why are you so stressed? You sound like you just ran a marathon,” Talia said through the phone. You could envision her checking her nails while doing so. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You finally got Robin’s wrists to slip from the chains and he fell down onto you. You grunted under his weight. Apparently, just because he had been starved and tortured for months didn’t mean he had lost his superhero muscle. 

Talia paused for a moment and you could practically hear the gears in her brian turning. “Do you need me to help hide a body?” she asked suddenly. 

You laughed nervously as you shifted Robin to your shoulder and began dragging him towards the steps. “No?” you finally answered. “Though if you wanted to meet me by Arkham Asylum with your working car and a cure for an almost dead superhero, that would be great.”

“I will be there in twenty minutes.”

~~~~

“How did this happen?” Talia demanded, more curiosity in her voice than malice and anxiety. You were in her passenger seat, staring at the wounded Robin who was laid in the back. Talia weaved through traffic with ease, headed towards the Yuyan Building.

“I don’t know!” you cried out, panic infusing itself into your blood. It felt similar to the way the Joker had infused serum into Robin. You clutched at the seatbelt, hoping it would take some of your dread. “My car just stopped working and then I was just going into Arkham Asylum like an idiot and I found the dead Robin! He was supposed to be dead, right? It was all over the news!”

“And then Batman got another Robin,” Talia added, almost bitterly. You shot her a confused look and she glanced over at you. Her eyes flickered down to your wrist before you yelled at her to focus on the road again. “You are a rational person, Y/n,” Talia began as the car screeched to a halt outside an imposing, ornate building. You stared up at it as Talia got out of the car. You scrambled to help her with Robin. The two of you each had one of his arms over your shoulders, his feet scraping along the ground, head lolling to the side, as you carried him in. “I do not think you would go into Arkham Asylum without something else guiding you,” Talia continued. “Do not think I did not notice your stopped timer. He is your soulmate, is he not?”

You nodded, not trusting your words. You were worried you would start crying if you actually had a moment to process all of the day’s events. “Will your dad help?” you asked finally, voice wavering.

Talia chuckled dryly, eyes narrowing on a fixed point ahead of you. She led you and Robin deeper into Yuyan Building. “If it gets on Batman’s good side? Absolutely.”

“I’ll take him after you’re done healing him,” you added quickly. “I’ll take him back home and care for him if you and your dad help me this one time.” You realised it sounded like you were begging for help. Briefly, you wondered what had happened in such a short time to make you care so much for Robin. Part of you decided it was what any rational, kind human being would do – help someone who was badly hurt – but another part of you knew that wasn’t the case. You felt tied to this boy you didn’t even know the name of. Whether it was through your soulmate bond or not, you knew you were connected to Robin. You felt his pain and terror. Even though he was unconscious, you could feel his resistance tugging against you. He didn’t want to go with you. He was scared of what you might do to him. His emotions dug into you and you felt a whimper crawling up your throat, begging for escape. 

It was then you steeled yourself and decided one thing: you weren’t going to let your soulmate die. 

Yuyan Building held deeper secrets, you realised. Talia directed you down long hallways and steep stairwells and you felt bad for the custodians who had to clean up Robin’s trail of blood. It was long minutes, full of you groaning under Robin’s weight and Talia looking unaffected, before Talia stopped at a large, ominous door. 

You couldn’t look Ra’s in the eye as he slung Robin into the Lazarus Pit. You could only watch the bubbling green liquid as Robin slowly sunk to the bottom. Agonising minutes ticked by, halted only by Ra’s and Talia whispers to each other. 

You hugged yourself tightly after five minutes passed and you called anxiously to Talia, “do- does he need help? Is he hurting? Why is it taking so long?”

“He had a lot of injuries, Y/n,” Talia reassured you, coming to place a hand on your shoulder in comfort. “He will be okay.”

Yeah. He’ll be okay.

~~~~

Jason’s eyes burned. Green was all that he could see. He tried to breathe in, but the only thing that filled his lungs was the green surrounding him. When the liquid filled his lungs and he coughed out, bubbles trailed up to the surface like a safety rope guiding the way. 

Jason stretched a hand out in front of him, muscles aching at disuse. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to run away, would we, Robby?” The Joker’s voice called after him as Jason kicked his feet futilely. “Not our little prince!” 

A flitting feeling coursed through Jason: curiosity and concern, but he was too weak to form a thought. His arm, reaching out towards the bubbles that led him upward, didn’t look like his own. He remembered the scars criss-crossing along it and he remembered the dirt and grime infecting cuts and burns, even digging its way underneath his nails, but he didn’t remember looking so… strong. Since when did he have the muscles and veins that looked like years of exercise had paid off? Batman had kept him fit – Robin needed to be able to hold his own, but he didn’t quite remember it working so well. 

His hand finally breached the top of the green waves, grasping up towards breathable air and safety. 

Green. Like the Joker. Another one of his charades. A playing card, to show Jason he wasn’t free yet. He was never free.

Everything was disillusioning. His vision veered sideways before becoming foggy and nausea crashed through Jason, like the waves in which he was trying to fight against.

“Stop struggling!” he heard someone cry out, “you’re making your own waves! You have to swim.”

He saw someone reaching out towards him and without a second thought, Jason extended his bandaged hand, clinging onto the buoy in the storm. Their hand was soft and comforting and dragged him out of the water. Jason allowed himself to be dragged. He didn’t have the energy to fight the Joker. He had given up much too long ago. 

“What did you do to him?” someone asked once Jason fell to the ground. The world spun around him and he couldn’t recognise whomever was speaking. He gasped in desperate air, filling his deprived lungs. 

“Take in a good, deep breath, Robby. Smell that blood? It’s yours. A reminder that Bats isn’t gonna come save you. Doesn’t it smell delicious?” The Joker hissed at him, inhaling himself. He cackled and licked his lips. “You’re a sweet little bird, aren’t you?”

“Why does he look like that?” the same voice asked. Jason heard a small thud over the ringing in his ears. 

“The Lazarus Pit not only receives, but it returns, ten times stronger,” a deep voice explained. “It takes what it has been given, and it blossoms it into its full potential. What it needs to become.”

Jason flinched away from the hands that rested on him. The hands retreated and Jason wondered what new tactic the Joker was trying. The Joker never retreated.

The voices were getting more frantic and his heartbeat seemed amplified. As Jason was slowly lifted up, he passed out.

~~~~

The next time Jason woke up, the first thing he noticed was the clock. There was a digital clock on a small table beside him, green numbers staring unblinkingly up at him. Green as in the Joker. Clock as in a bomb. Does he want me to defuse the bomb? Or is it all a trick? The Joker never let me see any clocks. Time was a valuable construct, one the Joker used to his advantage. If Jason didn’t know how much time had passed, the Joker could stretch the days and the torture. 

It took Jason a moment to blink the sleep from his mind. Then, he let his eyes flick around the room as his body stayed perfectly still. It was a tactic he learned from Batman – never let anyone know you were awake. He could categorise helpful information for later, such as possible escape routes, and if the Joker didn’t know he was awake quite yet, there would be less time for torture.

The former Robin was in a room. He didn’t recognise it and that scared Jason more than he would ever admit. There was a dresser opposite him with pictures on it. He couldn’t quite make out who was in the pictures, but it didn’t quite matter yet. A closet door was closed and next to it stood a tall mirror that had a blanket thrown over it. A small bookshelf sat beside him and when Jason had the mental capacity, he couldn’t help but feel the pull to read the titles. It smelled better than anything in a long time. Instead of urine and festering skin, this place smelled like lavender and vanilla. 

It was only then Jason realised he was laying on a bed. And there were no restraints tying him down to it. 

What new tactic was this? What scheme was the Joker pulling? What game did he want Jason to play? What was the objective? The trick Jason had to uncover to live another day? 

Green and purple and yellow whirled around Jason and he gripped his head, begging the colours to stop. Carnival music played loudly in his ears, that same damn tune for the past thirty six hours. 

Strapped to a chair, there was nowhere to escape the Joker’s mind games. Jason had been sedated more times than he could count and dragged to new locations where the Joker found new ways to torment him. Today’s lucky special was the Joker’s old hideout at the abandoned carnival. 

It wasn’t long before the Joker’s voice rang out from within hidden speakers. “Show me those street smarts, Robby! Play with me. Maybe I’ll let you go…” he jeered and inveigled. 

The spinning stopped and Jason planted his feet on the ground. His head dipped and his mouth hung open, eyes crossed and half-lidded. The Joker stood before him, leaning on his crowbar. “Ah, ah, ah,” the Joker tsked. “You're losing your touch, Robby.” The Joker ran his tongue over his teeth, lips curling up in a tantalising grin before lifting the crowbar back. 

Jason didn’t hear anything before he blacked out.

It had seemed that he had blacked out in real life too, for the time had advanced three hours and the sun had sunk in the sky. Next to the clock was a tall glass of water and a small plate of crackers. Two pills of unassuming tylenol sat nearby.

Someone had been in here, Jason realised. The thought made his skin crawl and he quickly flung off the sheets, not used to the feeling of cotton. After a quick analysis of his body, even though his skin was already wrecked and flayed, there weren't the telltale nail marks on his thighs that the Joker had been there in his sleep. The only thing out of the ordinary were the bandages and cleaned wounds. His armour was nowhere to be seen and he had been stuffed into pyjama pants and a shirt that seemed a bit tight. 

Panic flashed through his spine and Jason flung his legs over the mattress. He promptly collapsed and his knees ached at the impact. It took a moment of forcing his lungs open and letting oxygen flow through his system once more until he was able to crawl pathetically towards the covered mirror. His fingers twisted around the sheet and dragged it downward, letting it pool on the floor and around his legs. 

Staring back at him wasn’t his face. It was the face of someone who had lived ten more years and seen fifty more years of battle. 

Jason promptly swung his fist at the glass, shattering the mirror and letting the shards rain down. But he could still see his reflection. Jason forced his eyes away from the unfamiliar face and the scars he could feel burning into his skin.

Just a trick of the Joker. That’s all it ever was. He was never free and never more would believe so. Everything was consumed by that pale skin, green hair, and purple nails. Everything was a mind game followed by excruciating pain. 

His gaze drifted back to the water and crackers. It could be tainted. But the Joker also needed him alive to continue their games. There was always a grace period for Jason to heal before the next session began. 

He limped back to the bed, downed the water, not daring to touch the pills, and fell back onto the pillow. He shifted and adjusted the pillow. It felt uncomfortable. He threw it to the other side of the room before rubbing at his aching wrists. His skin there was red and irritated, not used to being out of chains. That was unusual, when Jason truly thought about it. The Joker knew how powerful Jason was. Jason had even managed to escape his chains once, back when he was healthy and convinced Batman would come and rescue him. But a bullet to the malnourished stomach was enough to stop anyone. 

He kept massaging his hands until his fingers skirted over the bare skin of the inside left wrist. It felt like something should be there. Something was missing. 

“Well well well,” Joker’s voice crooned in his ear. The man’s fingers curled around Jason's wrist. Long fingers tapped a tune on the proud watch that sat on Jason’s skin, ticking like a heartbeat. “Does our little Robby have a soulmate?” 

The boy’s muscles tensed, protesting against the Joker for the first time in weeks. He had been trying to keep the watch hidden for as long as possible, but he should’ve known it was futile.

“But who on earth could love you?” The Joker questioned deridingly.

Jason’s cracked lips parted and he forced a “no” from his parched throat. “Don’t.”

The Joker giggled – a high pitched, ugly sound that would haunt Jason’s nightmare’s for years to come. “Oh… and have you met your true love yet?” 

“Stop it.” Jason wiggled away from the Joker’s searing grip but nothing helped.

The psychopath’s nails embedded crescents into Robin's skin as he forced his wrist around. “No no no,” the Joker tsked as he watched the clock inch down towards zero. “You haven’t met them yet… what?” He turned back towards Jason, eyes wide with fake innocence. “You think they’re gonna come save you, Robby?” A burst of laughter bubbled from the murderer. “Never,” he hissed in Jason’s ear, making the boy cringe away, his chains swinging with him. 

A sob crawled its way up Jason’s lungs as the Joker grabbed his chains, steadying him, before licking a stripe up Jason’s cheek, leaving behind saliva and horrid breath. The Joker then licked his lips, relishing in the taste of Robin’s blood and tears. 

“You really think you deserve anyone?” The Joker whispered in his ear, more serious than Jason had ever seen him. His fist clenched around Jason’s watch and the boy let out a whimper. “You don’t.” The glass cracked under the Joker’s force. “Deserve shit.” He ripped the soulmate watch from Jason and threw it to the ground. The delicate watch sprang open and the timer stopped in its tracks. 

Jason let out a guttural scream as the Joker ground the glass into the dirt with his heel. 

~~~~

A loud thump yanked Jason out of sleep. A sharp feminine yelp followed and Jason was instantly on his feet, no matter the spots that danced in his vision. 

A small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Alfred chastised him for not staying in bed and letting his body heal. “Master Jason, how are you supposed to fight crime if you can’t even walk straight?”

Nevertheless, Jason pushed open the door, raggedly breathing and clutching his side. He was sure he looked like a serial killer of some sort, blood staining through his bandages and hair sloppily matted to his forehead from sweat. 

A girl stared at him from across the room. She was smaller than him, was what Jason noticed first. He then noticed her eyes. They were a striking colour and seemed to bore into him, knowing his every want and desire. They were cautious, yet Jason thought he imagined excitement running deep within the girl. 

“Who’re you?” Jason mumbled out, leaning heavily against the doorframe. 

The girl took a breath and said, “I’m Y/n.” A blanket was curled around her feet, much like the blanket that Jason had snatched from the mirror hours earlier. Her hair was a bit messy and Jason categorised a pillow propped up against the armrest of the couch. 

“How’re you—” Jason cut himself off and shook his head. “What’re your… Who…” he struggled to find a question that encapsulated everything while not giving too much away about himself. 

Y/n took a step closer, almost as if he was a wild animal that she didn’t want to startle. It didn’t work; Jason stumbled back over his feet and back into the bedroom. Y/n didn’t follow. “I was at Arkham Asylum three days ago and found you.”

“What were you doing there?” Jason demanded, his words slurred. 

“My car broke down,” Y/n explained easily, though Jason didn’t believe her one bit. “I was looking for help and… found you instead. I had to call a friend for help.”

Jason was done with pleasantries. Alfred had frowned upon swearing, and the boy had quickly learned not to use the words he had heard on the street or the insults villains spat at Batman once they were in handcuffs. But he wasn’t standing next to Batman in bright spandex anymore. He was bleeding through someone else’s clothes and he wasn’t in his own body and there was a girl who was wearing a dark green sweatshirt and green reminded him of the Joker. “Bullshit,” he growled out. His voice didn’t have that prepubescent squeak to it anymore and his veined hand reached up to massage his throat. 

Y/n’s brows stitched together and she stared up at him, slipping the cuffs of her sweater over her hands. “No. It’s not bullshit. I promise,” she said, her voice saccharine. “Look, you’ve been sleeping for almost three days, trying to sleep off that poison the Joker put in you, I’m sure.”

Jason flinched back so hard that he stepped back onto the glass shards from the mirror. It cut into his heel and he winced, blood already leaking from the wound. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Y/n exclaimed, crouching down and then standing back up quickly. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to help you with that? Why don’t you sit on the bed and I’ll grab some bandaids.” Y/n hurried away out of the bedroom and Jason stood still. 

Help. 

Help you. 

“You’re gonna help me win back Batman, Robby,” the Joker whispered in his ear, spit flicking on his face. “You are vital. You will be his downfall.”

Help.

Help me.

Y/n came back, shaking Jason out of the parallels. “You’re not on the bed,” she commented. Jason’s feet automatically moved towards the bed — he knew better than to argue with the Joker, but then he remembered he wasn’t with the Joker. This was a girl who looked like one strong look would have her cowering beneath him, especially if he actually had the physique he saw in the now-broken mirror. 

“Who are you,” he repeated his question from earlier, turning back to look at her. 

“Y/n,” the girl reiterated, head tilting slightly. 

“No.” Jason shook his head. “Who are you. Who do you work for?”

Y/n’s brows scrunched together in confusion and she said, “well, my boss is named Marlene, if that’s what you’re asking. But I don’t see how that’s particularly relevant.”

Jason’s chest rose and fell and he brought his hand up to claw at it. “Liar,” he hissed out. “You… you liar!” A yell curled its way up through him and his nails scratched at his throat, trying to tear this unfamiliar voice from him. Who was he? This wasn’t Jason Todd, the broken boy from Crime Alley. This was someone much more dangerous and unpredictable. Batman had always taught Jason how to analyse plans and choose the one with the highest success rate. But this was a different Jason. This Jason was a tornado, sweeping through every emotion he didn’t know how to handle. 

He saw green. And that only reminded him of the years spent under the Asylum.

Jason tore the sheets from the bed. He shoved things off the bedside table and consequently the lamp fell, its bulb shattering and then flickering out. The room was plunged into darkness. The only source of light was from the barely rising sun, peeking its rays into the window and bathing the edges of the room with pink and orange and yellow. 

The light danced across Y/n’s face as she stared around at the damage Jason was inflicting. Pity and guilt ran rampant on her face and she didn’t stop him.

Jason moved throughout the room, the only things he spared being the dresser and the bookshelf. 

After some time, he collapsed onto the floor, heaving in breaths. It wasn't long before he slowly leaned back to lay down. Y/n carefully sat down next to him, staying a good couple feet away. "I know you don't trust me," she said. She slipped her sleeve down her wrist, tucking in her hands. The outline of a watch pressed against the fabric and Jason stared at it numbly and unthinking. "But my name is Y/n. I work at the Gotham Gazette. My boss's name is Marlene. She's pretty nice and I'm up for a raise soon. I've lived in Gotham my whole life, even while my brother moved away the first chance he got. I've contemplated leaving for a long time, but I could never bring myself to do it." She pointed to a picture that sat on her dresser – one of the only things Jason hadn't destroyed. "That's him. My brother."

Jason didn't move his head to look. His green vision began to fade. 

“When I was growing up I had a fish. His name was Captain Sparkles,” Y/n kept on talking. “He was pretty cool and lived a long time for a fish. Two years, if you’re interested. I’m going to Gotham University and studying English so I can hopefully move up the line of command at the Gazette. My parents are chill and are empty nesters with two dogs out in the countryside. My dad always pledged never to get a dog, but now I’m pretty sure they’re ahead of me in the will.” She chuckled and tugged at her hair. 

Jason turned on his side away from her and he missed her eyes trailing after him sadly. Y/n swallowed and blinked away the sting of impending tears. 

“I have a little routine going,” Y/n continues, her voice cracking slightly. “You know, wake up, go to class — I’m a sophomore — come home and do homework. When I don’t have class, I go to work.” The girl wraps her arms around her knees and tucks her chin in. “What I’m trying to get at, I guess, is that I don’t work for the Joker.”

Jason flinched and cradled his head in his hands. Everything Y/n was telling him seemed true; she didn’t seem like an agent of the Joker, but his mind screamed at him to not trust anybody. Each syllable she spoke seemed like a reminder of how normal he was supposed to be. Day in and day out, when the Joker was pushing Jason’s limits, pulling him to the brink of death, Jason had wished to be normal. To not have met Batman that fateful day. To not have accepted the Robin pedestal. To go to high school and college and live in a dorm and get drunk and then regret it the next day. 

What he would give to be normal. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/n muttered. “I didn't mean to say his name. I know it must be triggering.” She exhaled and was silent for a moment. “I’ll go,” she eventually whispered. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Jason heard her stand and move to the door. No! Please don’t go. I- I can’t be alone. I don’t know how to be alone. But the words didn’t come. 

The door clicked shut behind Y/n. Tears made their way down Jason’s face and his body shook with the effort to keep silent. 

I would rather you torture me than make me be alone, he thought. My thoughts are more dangerous than any weapon.

~~~~

For all of Jason’s life, soulmates had always been in his realm of knowledge. Like bombs. He had heard the word in the news, playing with whatever he had scavenged off the street, his mom smoking on the couch behind him, TV blaring. 

But children are oblivious and it wasn’t until later in his life that he figured out what the words meant. ‘Bombs’ became synonymous with Gotham City and ‘soulmate’ became a word Jason held close to his heart. 

Everyone had a soulmate and it was common for the kids on the playground to compare their numbers ticking down. Younger children, who had yet to get their timer, gazed wistfully at older kids’ watches. Rumours of someone’s timer speeding up or slowing down blistered around the jungle gym and it chilled young Jason’s blood with the thought of not getting to meet his soulmate soon enough. 

But besides those insignificant bouts of worry, Jason was very proud of his soulmate. He would be running around the playground and when he heard someone bragging about how soon they would meet their soulmate, Jason would stop the game of tag and go over to compare numbers. 

Not everyone was as lucky as him, however. Some kids would be teased because their timer estimated that they wouldn’t meet the love of their life until they were on the brink of death. While Jason never stood up for the victim, he would never be the one to bully them. His own mom had smashed her timer when she met Jason’s deadbeat dad, wanting to defy the universe and choose her own lover. It had only led to jail time, alcohol, and negligence. Sometimes, late at night, Jason would wonder what happened to his mom’s true soulmate. Were they still out there with a paused timer, wondering who didn’t think them good enough? Did they also think they could find answers at the bottom of a bottle or did they pick themselves up and reroute their life?

What would’ve his life been like if he had two parents who loved each other and were destined to be together? 

But whenever Jason was feeling down, or he got a bad grade (which didn’t happen often), or he was beaten up in the alleyways of Gotham, or his mom smashed a bottle by his head and screamed at him, he would cast his eyes down to his soulmate timer and just remember that someone out there was for him. That someone was fated to love him. And very early on, from the moment he realised what having a soulmate actually meant, Jason decided that he would wait for however long it took and go through whatever it meant to find them. 

“Whose clothes are these?” Jason whispered, his voice cracked and desolate the next time Y/n came into the room to offer him the little food he could stomach. 

“My brother’s,” she answered easily, setting down the plate of toast and some other easy food. “I thought they would be a bit big on you, but then the Lazarus Pit made you ginormous, so they’re a bit tight now. Sorry.”

“Lazarus Pit?” Jason pushed himself to sit up, muscles groaning in protest. 

“I don’t know how much you remember,” Y/n admitted. “But once I got you out of Arkham, I brought you to my friend Talia. She has some… powerful connections to some influential people and was able to help heal you in the Lazarus Pit. I just didn’t know how much it would alter you.”

“That explains a lot,” Jason admitted dryly, thinking of his new physique, emotions, and tinted vision when he had gotten mad. 

Y/n leaned against her dresser. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to help, but I needed to. You were going to die and I need…” she trailed off and her eyes flicked down to her wrist.

“You need what?” 

“I couldn’t let someone die,” Y/n finally decided on. 

Jason accepted her answer. He felt a small tug at his chest, almost as if something wasn’t right and he wanted to correct it. “What’s…” His eyes trailed to her lap where she held her hands. His jaw twitched and he shook his head. “Never mind.” 

“You can ask me anything,” Y/n offered, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. Jason’s eyes widened when he saw her smile and his heart fluttered. Jason decided that, even if he didn’t trust Y/n yet, he would do whatever it took to keep that smile on her face. 

“No, I have nothing– I’m good– no–” 

“Spit it out, Robby. What do you want to tell your darling Joker? What are your… worries? Your concerns? Your dear Uncle Ace?” The Joker circled around an exhausted Jason. “Trust me. You can tell me anything…” His speech was slow and intoxicating. Alluring, was the word Jason would use to describe it. It was tugging him in. Jason’s eyes slipped down into sleep just as another needle pierced its way into his skin, courtesy of the Joker. 

Jason dug his nails into the palm of his hand over and over, fingers twitching over his cuticles. His face started to heat up and he swallowed roughly, blinking slowly. “I’m okay,” he mumbled out, even though Y/n didn’t ask. 

“Do you need me to leave?” she offered. 

Jason dragged his head back and forth, attempting to shake it. Eventually, it lolled back and banged against the wall. “Sorry, what?”

Y/n stood up on instinct. “Robin?” 

The title sent lightening up Jason’s spine and his gaze snapped up to stare at her, fuming. “Don’t- don’t call me that!” he screamed out. “I’m not! Stop it!”

Dearest Robin. How Batman will miss his little protégé. 

Robby… 

Robby… 

Robin!

“Let me go!” Jason shrieked. He wiped his hands on his shirt before reaching up and pulling at his hair. Everything felt wrong. “Why won’t you let me go?! Just give up,” he pleaded desperately. His eyes, wide and frantic, swept around the room until they settled on the shards of the mirror he had smashed.

His body was a graveyard.

It was only then that Jason truly comprehended how imperfect he was. 

Scars trailed down his arms and legs and he could even see a smattering of them peeking out of the collar of his shirt. Each scar and bruise was a reminder of each thing the Joker had done to him. 

Each scar is an adventure, Batman’s voice resonated in his head. An image of Batman patching up young Robin’s bloody nose flicked through Jason’s mind.

Each scar is a reminder you were never there for me, Jason thought bitterly. Each scar is a reminder that I’ll never be free of him. I’ll always be tied to the Joker. And that’s what terrifies me the most. That’s what makes me hate you, Batman. 

“Okay, okay,” Y/n surrendered, holding her hands up. “I’ll leave. But I can’t let you go. It’s not safe yet.”

It was then that Jason drove his fist into the wall. Y/n made a little squeak of surprise and seemed to flinch. 

She quickly left and Jason didn’t have time to feel bad before he crumpled onto the bed in exhaustion, bits of plaster now on the floor and sheets.

~~~~

Time after time again, the Joker visited him. The Clown Prince of Crime had grown bored with the relentless torture. There had been new tactics — he had to keep it interesting, of course — but even waterboarding hadn’t quelled the ache that the Joker felt after the boy had grown used to the whipping of chains against his skin, leaving the boy bruised and internally bleeding.

So it was time to pull out all the stops. The Joker strolled into the makeshift dungeon. Robin didn’t even look up at this point. “You look grim,” the Joker stated, pouting theatrically, even though his audience was a despairing one. He strolled over to the table where he kept all his instruments. “Which one, which one?” the Joker sang, running his fingers over the knives, corkscrews, ropes, and other devices to land on a pitcher of water. 

Jason inhaled and exhaled slowly. The Joker poured a generous amount of water into a glass before lifting it to Jason’s lips and tilting it back. “There you go…” the Joker cooed, caressing Jason’s cheek. “Drink it all up like a good little boy.”

Jason’s chapped lips searched hungrily for the water, not caring what the Joker’s motive was. He was too thirsty to wonder.

It was only the first in a long line of drugs. 

“I don’t know what to do, Talia,” a lilting, frustrated voice came from the other room, stirring Jason awake. He was sure that whenever he heard Y/n’s voice, he would snap to attention, ready to throw himself to his knees and execute whatever she commanded. 

Woah. Where did that dedication come from? 

Even when Jason assumed the title of Robin, there was never such blind complaisantness to what Batman ordered. He would always have some street-kid spunk in him.

So why was he feeling so utterly protective over Y/n? It had to be the fact that she saved him from the hellhole the Joker had carefully curated and manipulated. Didn’t it?

Or was it something else?

“No, I’ve been trying to do all my work online, and it’s been working, but I can only go so long before I have to go into the office or go to lectures.” Y/n listened to her friend for a long minute on the phone and Jason strained to hear them. “No, but I feel responsible – that’s the wrong word – but protective of him.” There was a pattering of feet as if Y/n was pacing. “This is kinda a big deal. There are movies and books written about this connection and yet, mine is huddled in my room, sleeping off drugs and the evidence of torture!” Her voice cracked up at the end and Jason physically stood up. 

Bile rose up in his throat and Jason’s knees slammed to the ground, pain shooting up his bones and reverberating in his muscles. He cursed under his breath and pressed his head to the cool hardwood, trying to overcome his nausea.

Stars swirled in his vision and laughs echoed in his head. Jason mumbled words of encouragement to himself, but they were distorted and ugly. Like the Joker. Oh, how Jason dreaded the thought of becoming him. His forearms hit the floor and instead of the Joker’s words stabbing at his brain, it was a static frame of white noise, blocking out everything. Vision was the first thing to go, eyes squeezing out the late afternoon light. The second thing to leave Jason, as everything does, was time. Was it minutes or hours he sat on the floor before the door burst open? 

Words were muted and Jason nodded when Y/n asked if she could touch him. Warm palms encased his jawline, thumbs brushing along his cheeks. “He’s not here,” Y/n whispered. “I’m here. Robi- no, tell me your name. Please.”

“Jason. My name is Jason.” Somehow, Y/n had eroded away his concern and distrust, replacing it with ease and invulnerability. He would never have thought it possible in such a short time, even without his history with the Joker. 

Y/n exhaled a small laugh and a bright smile came to her face. Jason looked up at her, brain still buzzing. “What? What’s funny about that?” he managed to get out. 

“Oh, no no no,” Y/n was quick to reassure him. “I didn’t mean to laugh. That was rude of me. I’m sorry.” One of her hands guided down to rest on his back, rubbing soft circles. In his anxious stupor, Jason curled up in front of her, instinctively resting his head on her lap. If he could see her face, he would’ve seen Y/n’s eyebrows shoot up with hopefulness. However, he definitely heard her intake of breath. “It’s a very nice name.”

“How- how does your boyfriend feel about me staying here?” Jason finally asked after a minute of him slowing his breathing. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Y/n said, sounding amused. 

“But you have a soulmate timer,” Jason pointed out. 

Y/n tilted her head, curiously. She didn’t think he had noticed that. One of her hands moved to Jason’s hair, gently brushing it back from his forehead. She ran her fingers through the white stripe which she had come to find very attractive. Tension left the boy’s shoulders and he tucked his head into her lap. “Everyone does,” Y/n replied. “It doesn’t mean I’ve found my soulmate yet.”

“Have you?”

“Yes…”

“Oh.”

Jason laid in her lap for a long minute and eventually asked her, “is he nice to you?”

Y/n laughed lightly, sighing a bit before saying, “he’s still getting to know me. He’s a very reserved and tentative person and we only met a little while ago. However, he’s been opening up pretty quickly and I’m very proud of him.” Her fingers tapped against Jason’s hair, curling the strands around her fingers before lightly scratching at his scalp with her nails. She noticed how his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when she did that. Tucking that information away for later, Y/n added, “he’s gone through a lot in the past and I just want to make him feel safe.” 

Deep in his bones, Jason could almost feel her sadness and dedication. He wasn’t sure what magic had given him the power to be so in tune with this girl, but he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from him. Not even her soulmate. 

Turning the conversation away from something that would surely wound him if he pried any deeper, Jason declared quietly, “I’m going to install some deadbolts and locks on your front door and windows soon.”

“Pardon?” 

“It’s not safe for you to help me.” It never is for anyone. I’m a poison, infecting everyone I touch. “I want to make sure you’re safe before I leave.”

“Leave?” Y/n exclaimed, staring down at him. “No, you’re not ready to go yet.” A part of her was worried she was being selfish, wanting her soulmate as close to her as possible, but one look at the bandages she had just replaced the night before said otherwise. There was less blood than there had been days prior, but Jason was not in any condition to leave bed, much less leave the apartment. 

“You can’t keep housing me forever, Y/n,” Jason muttered. “And I’ll be damned if I’m the reason you get hurt.” His head was still in her lap, but he couldn’t meet her eye. It was imperative that he play with the seams in his shirt. 

Otherwise she might see him beginning to cry.

“Please leave,” he begged, voice breaking pitifully. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to argue, gently slipping out from her place underneath Jason and resting his head softly on the ground before closing the door behind her. 

The nightmares were worse that night. ~~~~

True to his word, Jason ventured out into the apartment the next day like a zoo animal inspecting its new habitat. He crouched his shoulders, bowing his head in an attempt to diminish his size. He still wasn’t used to being so large and accidentally bumped into the kitchen counter and a lamp. 

He was able to install the majority of the new locks and deadbolts until he slid the deadbolt of the front door closed. It whined and creaked beneath his fingers and his mind flashed back to when

Jason awoke slowly. A small groan left his lips, but he stayed still. It was a tactic he learned from Bruce – never let anyone know you were awake. He could categorise helpful information for later, such as possible escape routes, and it was quite possible that he was one movement away from death. He had to be careful. 

But this wasn’t Africa. This wasn’t where Jason was desperately searching for his mother when Batman ran into the warehouse, seconds before the Joker let loose a bomb. 

That’s all Jason could remember. 

Blood was sticking his hair to his head and Jason clutched his side. It ached from bruised or broken ribs that pressed to his skin. However long he had been unconscious, it had been quite a while. His body was already malnourished and crying out for medical care. 

Jason attempted to crawl to a standing position, but when his ankles and wrists caught against metal, restraining him, he knew something else was at play. 

The whine and creak of a deadbolt unlocking caused him to turn his head towards a door he hadn’t noticed. A man in a pinstripe suit stepped through, a long crowbar in hand. Jason didn’t need the upturned red lips to know who was there. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Robby,” the Joker coaxed as Jason stared up at him, pure terror gripping his veins. He had never been so close to the Joker without Bruce. Where was Bruce? Why wasn’t he here? The Joker squatted down to Jason’s level, running a gloved hand over the boy’s bloody hair. Jason flinched away, but it didn’t deter the Joker. “You and your Uncle Ace are going to have some real fun.” 

“Where is he?” Jason sobbed, scared when he didn’t feel the blood on his hair. Why wasn’t he bleeding? What was the Joker’s new game?

“Where is who?” An unfamiliar voice asked despairingly. 

“Bru— Batman,” Jason corrected himself in his stupor. “B-Batman.”

Y/n stuttered, “I don’t know Batman. I’m sorry.”

Jason groaned in pain before a hysterical laugh bubbled from him. He clutched his stomach, on all fours, eyes wide and clouding over with green. Must he always be connected to the Joker? If he could eradicate that damn colour, he would. His fingers ghosted over the place that the Joker threatened to brand him. 

“Maybe I’ll make it permanent on our five year anniversary,” the Joker hummed, knife gently poking into Jason’s cheek. The faded scar of last month’s ‘J’ was what prompted the Joker to re-carve it into the boy. Blood dribbled down Jason’s cheek, joining his salty tears. It didn’t hurt, the wound being surface level, but just the thought of more things tied to the Joker made him gasp for air, crying softly. 

“So you’ll always be reminded of who was the one to beat you. The Clown Prince of Crime!”

Y/n had barely noticed the ‘J’ until Jason dug his nail into his cheek, tracing the scar. The path was imprinted into his memory. 

The skin turned red at the irritation and Y/n caught Jason’s wrist the next time he moved up to trace it again. “Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

Jason muttered things under his breath at her, but he didn’t pull away from her hold. “He branded me,” he finally spit out. “And it’s only because you found me that he didn’t carve it into my skull,” he said sarcastically, malice in his voice. His eyes blazed a fervent green and he shook his head. “But at least I knew what was coming. At least I knew that a month had passed when he redrew his initials.”

Y/n opened her mouth to argue, but Jason spoke before she could. “I… I’m worried,” he began slowly. “I’m becoming more of the Joker than I am Batman. I was supposed to look up to Batman, but what if he and the Joker are one and the same? Both hurt me. One abandoned me and the other took that for granted.”

“He didn’t mean to abandon you, I’m sure,” Y/n whispered. “No one would ever willingly abandon you.”

Jason grumbled out, groaning at her words. His lips twitched downwards and his biceps flexed. “No one? Everyone did!” he screamed out. “My parents, Batman, Alfred, Dick! Everyone abandoned me!”

Y/n ignored the last name Jason listed off, before murmuring, “I haven’t.”

“Not yet,” Jason whispered after a moment. “But you will.”

~~~~

A couple days later, Jason peeked out of Y/n’s room, one of her blankets in hand. “You deserve your room,” Jason mumbled when Y/n looked up from her book, astonished. 

“I– Jason, you need the most comfort,” Y/n said, gently closing her book. “I’m fine on the couch.”

“You need to get back to work soon,” he said, hugging the blanket close. “You said it yourself. I can’t be the reason that you’re putting your life on hold. You- you need to get back to normal.”

“You are my nor–” Y/n cut herself off before exhaling slowly. “Don’t worry about me,” she began. “I’ve slept on the couch many nights when I had papers to complete or binge-watched too many episodes of The Good Place.” 

Jason’s features softened slightly and he took a step forward. Y/n took the hint and scooted over on the couch, placing her book on the small coffee table she had. “What’re you reading?” he asked as Y/n turned on the television, opening up to the first episode of The Good Place. 

“The Great Gatsby, for one of my English classes,” Y/n said. 

“Really?” A smile slowly grew on Jason’s lips, something he hadn’t experienced in years. His muscles ached a bit from the disuse, but Jason was now addicted to the feeling. 

Y/n decided that she was now also addicted to the sight of Jason smiling. “Yeah. We’re covering the symbolism of water that spans throughout the book. In fact, in the first couple of pages, Fitzgerald references the White Star Line, which is a boat that sank on the same route as the Titanic. Gatsby, obviously, dies in the water, sinking, just as those boats did. Fitzgerald really is an excellent writer.”

Jason was pretty sure he was in love. Or maybe he still was on drugs. Whatever the feeling, it was nice and unexpected and new. 

“I do think you’ll like The Good Place,” Y/n continued. “I won’t spoil anything, but it has some pretty amazing underlying themes.”

“I’m sure,” Jason replied quietly, burrowing under the blanket. It didn’t quite manage to hide his large frame, but it managed to hide his quickening heart and blush that was slowly spreading. 

Just before the first episode started, Y/n quickly hurried to make some popcorn. She plunked the bowl in between the pair and then snatched some blanket away from Jason. “You run hot,” she explained when Jason shot her a bemused look. 

The Good Place was a wonderful show, as Jason soon learned, but what was more wonderful was when Y/n’s cheek pressed against his shoulder and her knees curled up and her eyes fluttered closed. When her breath slowed with sleep, subconsciously trusting him enough to be at her most vulnerable, that, Jason found out, was what was truly wonderful.

Bruce Wayne had never before seen a street rat more excited to see Batman, especially when that street kid was trying to steal from him. 

But what was particularly amusing was that the boy wasn’t particularly excited to see him, but more excited to show Batman his soulmate timer. 

“No! No, you don’t understand!” the boy cried ecstatically. “It just fast-forwarded! Meeting you means I get to meet my soulmate sooner!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eagerly shoving his wrist towards Batman’s cowl, showing the vigilante his timer. 

“Yes, very… exciting,” Bruce hummed out, not sure whether to laugh or reprimanded him for trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires. 

The boy laughed, a big grin covering his small features. “I wonder what they’re like. Have you met yours yet, Batman?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows and a chuckle slipped through. “Yes, I have. It’s a wonderful thing.” 

As the child kept rambling about his soulmate, Bruce knew that he had just found the next Robin. 

~~~~

Y/n sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed. She had a textbook in her lap and was mumbling out phrases for memorisation of an upcoming exam. A small smile couldn’t help but expand on Jason’s face as he listened to her mumbles. He paused from his work in the small kitchen, back muscles rippling as he reached for the marinara sauce. When he went to dump the pasta into the strainer, the pot clanged against the metal faucet. 

The Joker rattled his crowbar against Jason’s chains.

“Jay?” Y/n said softly, guiding him out of his memories before he could get too lost. “You can stop straining the pasta. All the water’s gone.” 

“What?” he choked out, turning his head so he could see her.

“The pasta.” Y/n shifted forward so her legs hung over the edge of the counter. “It’s okay. It’s been okay and it will continue to be okay. You- you can let go.” The euphemism wasn’t lost on Jason.

He let the pasta pan drop in the sink and faced Y/n, eyes shining with unshed tears. “No. That’s not what I meant.” Swallowing down the feeling, Jason continued, “what did you call me?”

“Jay,” Y/n whispered. 

The Joker paced around Jason after a few days without any torture. “It’s been too long, Robin,” he said, shaking his head. “I think it’s time to make you sing for your Uncle Jay.”

“Is that okay?” Y/n asked softly. 

Bruce shouted from the other room, “Jay! Come on! The gala’s starting soon.”

“Jason,” Y/n repeated. She reached out and touched his shoulder and the boy came to stand between her legs. Jason dropped his head on her shoulder, beginning to sob quietly. Immediately, Y/n brought her hand up to rest on his head and the other arm to curl around his back. “Don’t you dare,” she shook her head as Jason began mumbling his apologies. “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

And suddenly, everything was okay. Because Y/n was there. “Bruce called me Jay,” he murmured out. “An- and then he called himself Mr. Jay.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trigger-“

“No, it’s okay,” Jason looked at her, eyes shining with tears. “I like it when you do it. When you call me that.”

“You do?” Y/n asked, hands on either side of his face, cupping them closer and when her hands trailed to hold his neck and then one brushed back his hair oh this must be heaven, Jason thought, eyes fluttering shut. What he would give to live within her arms, always feeling safe and always feeling loved. She had that strange power over him and while Jason usually didn’t like people having power over him, he decided that when it came to Y/n, he didn’t mind. Not at all.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice lilting up with an infliction of infectious love. 

Jason stood there, comfortable in her arms and secretly hoping that Y/n would never have to go to work and would always just stay here. Where he could just keep… holding her and touching her and making sure she was safe because if Y/n wasn’t safe, Jason was pretty sure he would go on a rampage. If Y/n wasn’t safe, if Jason wasn’t holding her, then it was only because the Joker had found him and ripped him away from the only thing he had ever loved. 

And that would’ve been the cruellest method of torture. 

No amount of chains would hold him back. No amount of drugs would make him forget Y/n. And no amount of hate would make him forget the amount of love he felt when Y/n held him close and he could hear her heart beating steadily. In that moment, Jason could pretend her heart beat for him. 

He knew his heart beat for her. Then his mind flashed back to it all.

The boy’s muscles tensed, protesting against the Joker for the first time in weeks. He had been trying to keep the watch hidden for as long as possible, but he should’ve known it was futile.

Jason’s cracked lips parted and he forced a “no” from his parched throat. “Don’t.”

“Stop it.” Jason wiggled away from the Joker’s searing grip but nothing helped.

Jason let out a guttural scream as the Joker ground the glass into the dirt with his heel. 

“Oh, picky picky picky,” the Joker teased. “Sensitive, are we?”

“Lemme go! Don’t touch her! Don’t you dare!” His voice cracked and blood began to trickle down his arms as the chains rubbed against his irritated skin and broke the surface. But he would take the pain a thousand times over if it meant he could get to his watch. 

His soulmate. His love. It was all gone.

“Yes!” the Joker cried out, exclaiming loudly. His hands began to shake and a large grin spread on his maniacal face. “Yes! Emotion, Robby! This is what I want! Give me the fucking emotion! If I had known, I would’ve smashed that watch a long time ago.”

Jason lunges towards the Joker, face contorted with rage. “Don’t you fucking dare! Get- stay- no! No!” 

It was the most he had ever fought against the Joker. And the Joker adored it.

“You… you’re my…” Jason choked out, jaw tensing slightly as the dots began to connect.

He didn’t know when Y/n had begun to cry, but as tears streamed down her face and she nodded desperately, things seemed to all click into place. “It took you long enough,” she joked pathetically.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jason breathed out, his hands tightening on her thigh, a protective instinct washing over him. “Oh, no, no, no,” he shook his head and brought her head in his hands, brushing away the tears. “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s not that,” Y/n’s voice cracked. “I’m not unhappy, not in the slightest—” Jason was so sure of their bond that it hadn’t even crossed his mind that she might reject him or not love him due to his past. “—but I just never thought that you would- that I would-” She hiccuped and Jason’s eyes darted across her face, wanting to somehow help, but so unsure of himself.

Slowly, Jason sank to his knees. Y/n still sat above him, on the counter, staring down, baffled. Her eyes were red from crying and her lips were parted, but she had never seemed more beautiful. “What- what are you doing?” she murmured. 

“I’m showing you how much you affect me,” he answered simply. “Quite literally, you saved my life, Y/n. And if that’s the only way you touched my life, I would consider myself the luckiest man on Earth. If no one has told you those words before, then everyone else is a fool. If you allow me to stay around and cherish the best thing that’s ever happened to me, gladly, I will.” Y/n slowly slipped off the counter, standing before him. “But that’s a lot of ‘ifs’. And I’m not willing to potentially lose you over some ‘ifs’. I know I’ve made you uncertain and I’ve wrecked your apartment and I’m so sorry,” he chuckled dryly. Jason’s hands were shaking as he slowly slid them up Y/n’s legs. She shivered under his touch, backing up until she hit the counter behind her. Jason lifted his hands from her, giving her a moment if she needed, but one look in her eyes led his hands right back to her body. “You’re like a drug,” he whispered, pressing his face to the side of her thigh. 

“Drugs are very very bad,” Y/n managed to get out. 

“I know.” A small smirk appeared on his lips. His lips suddenly looked very kissable. “The Joker taught me that. If I could go back and kill him, I’d do it in an instant, but… I’d also thank him. And I’d thank Batman. And Nightwing. And my mom. And everyone else in my life because they all led me to you.” Y/n’s knees buckled and Jason helped ease her down so she was sitting in front of him. He choked on his tears slightly before saying, “so many people believe in equality in the universe. So if all of that is true, then perhaps every bad thing that ever happened to me was just leading up to you. You… are so good that the universe needed to even it all out.”

Y/n began shaking her head vehemently. “Then let me damn the universe,” she whispered. “Because clearly, it’s been unfair. You were gifted to me, Jason. It’s not fair that you went through so much shit while I lived a fairly light life.”

“Maybe I’m not good enough…”

“Don’t you dare suggest that,” Y/n cut him off sharply. 

“Then perhaps I took the hardship you were supposed to endure,” Jason offered the explanation. Before Y/n could argue, Jason said, “and I’d do it again.”

Y/n laughed lightly, drying her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I don’t want you to go through that again.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t need to,” Jason muttered, leaning forward slightly to nuzzle into Y/n’s neck. He slowly, as if testing the water, pressed a kiss to her skin. Feeling her inhale, Jason grinned and repeated the gesture, wondering if he would get the same reaction. He did. After a moment, he exhaled, his breath tickling Y/n. “I’m going to need time,” he muttered. “I’m not going to be the perfect soulmate you deserve right away.”

“I don’t expect you to be. You’re already perfect to me.”

“I’ll work on it,” Jason compromised. “I want to deserve you.”

“You do–”

“Y/n,” he pleaded desperately. “Let me do this for you. Let me be the best Jason Todd for you.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to back down, Y/n nodded after a minute. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll get through it all together.”

“Maybe we should seal the deal with a kiss.”

A bubbling laugh filled Jason’s ears and he couldn’t help the large grin that came over him. “Hmm,” Y/n conceded. “Alright.”

And so they did.

“Mom, why’re we here?” A small hand gripped onto her mother’s. 

“I signed us up for a soup kitchen,” her mom explained. “It’s coming to the holidays and we should be doing something good for others. Gotham isn’t always the nicest place to live and we’re fortunate enough that we can help when needed.”

“Hmm,” the girl conceded. “Alright.” She puzzled a bit over the thought that some people weren’t as fortunate as they were, before asking slowly, “do we need to help them any more than usual?”

“What do you mean, Y/n?” the mom asked, checking the street names as they passed. The girl frowned, her hair in small pigtails. “Well… Should we have brought clothes? Or blankets? How… How much do they need help?” She struggled to find the right words.

“No, they’re not homeless,” her mom said. “They just need a bit of help bringing food into the family, you know?”

“Okay,” Y/n accepted the answer easily. 

“Just, hold my hand, will you?” the mom said, even though her daughter was already clutching her hand. “This isn’t the safest part of town, though nothing bad will happen. The sun is out, so there’s nothing to be worried about.” 

Out of nowhere, a small boy barrelled out of an alleyway, shouting at some other boys that were running behind him. He crashed into Y/n, who’s mom scooped her up on instinct. “Oh, I’m sorry!” the boy cried out, head whipping from the two females back to the people chasing him. The boys behind him carefully came to a slow once they saw an adult with her daughter. “Uh, where are you two ladies going?” The boy asked, eyes darting back and forth between the groups. Ultimately, he decided that a stranger was more safe than those kids, simply because she was a mom.

“To the food kitchen,” Y/n supplied before her mom could shush her. 

“I can show you the way!” The boy jumped at the opportunity, beginning to walk backwards away from the group of bigger boys. Y/n’s mom looked between the malnourished boy who was silently begging with his eyes to the group who had a smearing of blood on their knuckles.

“Okay…” she decided. “Show us the way.”

The young boy jumped up and began striding away, beaming with the safety of an adult. Y/n’s mom set her down carefully, gripping her hand tighter than before. “Stay close by,” she demanded. Y/n nodded. 

The boy had dark hair that was cropped slightly at the sides with a tuft of it that fell over his eyes. His eyes were blue and he wore a red hoodie that fell just a bit too long over his jeans. “Wow,” he chirped as the trio got farther away from the alleyway. “Thanks. Let’s just say I’m not exactly on those guy’s good sides.” He kept rambling, Y/n’s mom shooting him cautious looks every once in a while, but he didn’t seem to notice. “What’s your name?” he asked Y/n, skipping over to walk by her side.

“Y/n,” the girl replied. “Y/n L/n.”

“That’s a nice name,” the boy grinned. “How old are you?”

“I’m five.”

“I’m seven!” The boy placed a haughty hand to his chest. “But my birthday’s tomorrow.”

Y/n’s mom hummed. “Oh. Are you excited to get your soulmate timer?”

“Yeah!” The boy beamed up at the woman, turning a corner. “Super excited. But this is the soup kitchen. You know, my mom should be stopping by soon. But thanks!” He began jogging off, waving goodbye. 

“Wait! What’s your name?” Y/n called after him. 

“Jason! Jason Todd.”