#Robin is all kinds of confused and distraught

[irondiotallica]

Date Night

Yay, another blurb!!! I'm really liking writing again. It's been a long time since I've written with joy and no expectations. Also, Robin finally makes an appearance. Kraft Cheese Singles have existed since the 50s. Let that sink in. Anyway, here's the blurb. Hope you enjoy it!!! -Silas

[Steddie}

Steve Harrington was nervous. For the first time in his life, he was nervous. There wasn’t anything that should be causing this anxiety save for the date that he had tonight. He’s had a million dates before, but this one was different. Eddie was different.

“Robin, what do I do,” Steve asked with panic clear in his wide-eyed expression.

Robin looked at Steve like she had many times before and if she had a whiteboard near her, there would be a tally under ‘You Suck’. She rolled her eyes and fixed Steve with a confused glare. 

“Steve, I think you’re forgetting three very important things.’

Robin held up three fingers and began to count down as she continued speaking.

“One, I’m more single than a Kraft Single.”

“Two, I’m a raging lesbian.”

“Three, you’re the one who’s had a very fruitful dating life.”

Steve shook his head. He was distraught at Robin’s very sound reasoning. He knew he was being irrational, but it was Eddie. He didn’t know how to go about wooing Eddie.

“Robin,” he whined hoping to wear her down,” This is different. Eddie’s different. Help me please.”

“I can’t help you with this. You’ve already planned it. What do you want me to tell you?”

Steve wanted her to tell Steve that he was doing things right.

“I’m doing it correctly, right?”

Robin sighed at that and shook her head. She looked up into his face and felt her gaze soften at the sight of her platonic soulmate.

“You’re doing fine, dingus. No need to stress,” she paused and rubbed his shoulder soothingly,” You’re doing great so far. Okay, Steve?”

Steve let out a sigh of relief and smiled at her. 

“Okay, yeah. Thanks, Robin.”

“You’re welcome, Steve.”

There was a comfortable pause of silence before Robin broke it with a smirk.

“You owe me lunch on Wednesday,” she said as she packed up to head home.

Steve rolled his eyes with a grin.

“Whatever you say, Rob.”

Steve stood in front of the familiar trailer with roses in his hand. He was stressed and his once perfectly styled locks were now disheveled with the numerous times he had run his hands through it. He chewed his lower lip nervously before running his hand through his hair again. Finally, he bit the bullet and knocked on the door.

Steve listened amused as someone stumbled through the trailer, seeming to trip multiple times and stubbing something as Steve heard a quiet ‘God dammit’ and ‘Son of a bitch’.

The door flew open as Eddie came into Steve’s view. Steve felt his breath leave him as he took in the perfection that was Eddie Munson.

Eddie always looked good, but today he had Steve close to busting. Those dark curls were pulled up into a high ponytail with a few strands falling out around his face. His eyes somehow popped more than usual and his rings were polished to perfection. He had a Dio shirt that had probably seen better days on and a pair of jeans with not a rip in sight. His belt and chains completed the entire thing and made Steve fall for him all over again.

Suddenly, confidence and charm flooded his system.

“Hey gorgeous, ready for our date?”

Eddie grinned and responded in kind.

“I don’t know big boy, am I?”

With no hesitation, Steve handed Eddie the flowers with a wink.

“Not until you put those flowers away, wouldn’t want them withering, left to their own devices.”

Eddie flushed at what Steve was implying. Maybe Eddie had been right to think that he would be with Steve for a lot longer than just a date.

“Hold on,” Eddie said, still bright red in the face.

The flowers were placed in water and left on the kitchen counter with care. Eddie grabbed his jacket, keys, cigs, lighter, and whatever else he thought he needed. He locked the door before following Steve to the car. He watched Steve with a pounding heart and a face blushing even more than before as Steve opened the door for him.

“After you m’lord,” Steve said with a flourishing bow. 

“I love it when you start speaking nerdy with me.”

“Good, cause there’s a lot more for later when we’re in a more,” he paused leaning in until his mouth brushed against Eddie’s ear,” private situation.”

Eddie felt a moan bubble up in his throat at the feel of Steve on his ear. He managed to trap it, but God, Steve was driving him up the wall.

They buckled up and Steve turned to Eddie. 

“Let’s get going, shall we?”

Eddie nodded, not trusting his words. Steve grinned at that entwining his fingers with Eddie’s before peeling out of the trailer park to their date of the evening.

[innytoes]

Help I can't stop thinking about the Dark Fantasy Fae AU.

There were a lot of things Ray could have never imagined when he married Rose. Moving out of their shabby little apartment into their house after a series of in hindsight rather telling instances of good luck. Their two amazing kids, who were so smart and talented and kind, who seemed to take all the things he loved in their mother and made it their own.

Losing her so young, he'd never imagined that.

And he really couldn't have predicted the four children that landed in their garage through a magical mushroom portal from a fairy realm.

Still, all things considered, Ray thought he was handling things rather well. He did have a very long phone call with Rose's very ancient grandmother, who told him she knew that when he took her name, he'd do the Molina family proud. Abuelita didn't know how much was myth and how much was family legend and how much was real, but the fact that the fae existed was pretty hard to question after the whole magic portal thing.

He stopped overwatering the plants overnight.

Now, the hardest part was helping the kids adjust to modern day life. Reggie was the easiest, considering he'd only lost about twenty-five years. He was a sweet boy, though a little jumpy at times. Alex was from the 1920s and while he still struggled a little with modern slang, he mostly seemed very grateful at the strides that had been made by the queer community, that allowed him to be who he was and love openly.

Luke was a bit trickier. He was distraught at losing his family, of course. He seemed to take to some aspects of modern times like a fish to water - the first time Julie showed him an electric guitar, Luke looked like he was having a religious experience. But Ray had had to pull him out of the road several times already to make sure he didn't get run over by a car, and then there had been the whole Tinfoil In The Microwave experience.

Willie was the trickiest. Ray had no idea how long he'd been in the fairy realm, given that he'd been switched out with a changeling at birth. But he had no real concept of how the human world worked, save for what he'd picked up from the other three boys. But some days, he seemed more fae than human, confused that Carlos couldn't just levitate to grab something off the top shelf, or that other people couldn't teleport short distances.

Which was what made this conversation so difficult.

"Fix, please," Willie had announced, before carefully settling a dead bird on the dining room table next to Ray's laptop.

The dad part of Ray's brain was already making a list of what needed to happen - get Willie to wash his hands, thoroughly clean the table- when the rest of his mind caught up with the request.

"She flew into a window," Willie said sadly, gently stroking the feathery head, and Ray felt a pang. This was going to be a very difficult conversation. One he remembers vividly having with Carlos when he was four (it had been a torn ladybug) and Julie when she was five (when Flynn's grandmother passed away).

"I- I'm afraid I can't do that," he said.

Willie's face twisted into a confused pout. "But I said please," he pointed out. They'd been working on... well, not so much manners as human mannerisms.

"Yes, and that was very polite," Ray said slowly, trying to figure out how to formulate this without being too harsh. "But I am unable to fix a dead robin."

"Please? I'll do all the cooking and the dishes for a whole..." Willie's face screwed up. Time was another thing they were working on. The entire concept of it seemed to upset him. "Year?"

"Willie," Ray said, gently herding him to sit down. "It's not that I don't want to help the bird. This isn't a deal you can trade for. There is nothing left for me to do to help the bird. Humans cannot fix death."

"Death?" Willie echoed, his voice small and uncertain. Ray nodded sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, there's no fixing the bird," he said slowly. "When something is dead, it cannot be brought back."

"No!" Willie wailed, distraught. "She just made a mistake! It's not fair!"

"Oh, mijo, I know it's not," Ray soothed, pulling him into a hug. "Death often doesn't seem fair." He let Willie cry, rocking him slightly. The sound summoned Alex, who took over, pulling Willie into a hug until they were sprawled on the floor, Willie curled up in his lap.

Ray tried not to focus on the dead bird on the table. He wanted to get it out of the house as soon as possible, but right now, Willie's feelings were more important.

"We can hold a funeral for her," he promised. "Bury her in the garden. That way, she can become one with the earth again, and help the plants grow." He thought that idea might make Willie feel a little better. The boy looked at him with big, not-entirely-human eyes, his lower lip trembling.

"It's the circle of life," Alex agreed. "Remember, like that song from the movie Julie and Flynn showed us."

"A funeral means burying her in the garden?" Willie asked, looking between them.

"A funeral is a ceremony to honour someone's life and say goodbye," Ray explained. Willie understood ceremonies, at least. "We can say a few words, and then bury her."

"Luke can sing a song," Alex said. "Birds like songs, right?"

Willie nodded, sniffling.

Ray squeezed his knee, and stood up. "I'll go get a nice box to bury her in." That seemed to upset Willie, and he shook his head fiercely.

"No dark rooms!" he insisted.

"How about some nice soft paper towels?" Alex suggested quickly. He also looked a bit nauseated at the thought of a dark room. Sometimes, Ray thought he'd never get to the end of the horrors those boys had gone through. He nodded, and went to get some gloves and a whole roll of paper towels.

Alex and Willie stayed on the floor, Alex gently rocking them back and forth while Willie ran his fingers through his long hair. "You're not allowed to be dead," Willie told Alex seriously. "I can't fix you."

"I'll do my best not to die," Alex promised. "I'm never going to leave you."

"If you do die, you have to come back as a ghost," Willie insisted. "No burying in the garden. We will be ghosts together. Like in Carlos' videos."

Alex smiled softly, and Ray tried not to tear up at the all-encompassing love and tenderness he saw in the boy's face, so young yet old and wise beyond his age. "Yeah, okay."

[roosterbox]

Heyyyyy how about another Steddie thinky thought? You know ‘em, you love ‘em!

This one’s theme: Hanahaki. Yes, the Flower Sickness that makes any unrequited love as actually physically deadly as it feels.

This one’s a bit older than the rest. I posted tiny bits on the discord a while back, and may in fact eventually expand it into an actual story, but for now, this.

Also under a cut because, yet again, my hand slipped, lol. Warnings for, uh, more Steve pain I guess. Sorry about that. Kind of.

Hanahaki AU

Steve loves Eddie. But Eddie doesn’t love Steve (or so Steve thinks…). He has resigned himself to this, to just being friends. Good friends. The only person he tells is Robin, who encourages him but is sympathetic. He gets the Flower Cough. Which grows (heh) increasingly worse as time goes on. And Robin gets even more insistent that he tells Eddie. So eventually Steve just… gives her a half truth/half lie.

He tells her, “Eddie’s not interested in me.” Half a lie, because she takes this to mean that he actually DID talk to Eddie and got rebuffed (he did not). But it’s also half a truth, because that’s what Steve truly believes - that Eddie wouldn’t be interested. No way, why would he? Pick your favorite flavor of Steve Harrington insecurity and insert here.

Eddie, meanwhile, is more than a little distraught. Everyone knows Steve has the Flower Sickness, but every time anyone asks about who it is, he waves them off with “they’re not interested.” And this blows Eddie’s mind because he’s been madly in love with Steve for years now, so how could anyone with half a brain or heart turn him down? In Eddie’s eyes, Steve is perfect.

The sickness gets worse. Steve ends up in the hospital. Everyone is there, waiting on the doctor’s word for when they can go in to see him. Eddie rushes in, scared and sick to his stomach, afraid that this is it. And at the sight of him looking so forlorn, even though (she thinks) he’s the one who caused this, Robin finally explodes.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Munson!”

Eddie, of course, is absolutely clueless. “What the fuck?”

“You think you can- fuck!” She’s angry, she’s stressed, she’s heartbroken, she’s distraught. There are tears streaming down her face. And for a moment, Eddie’s never felt so intimidated. “How can you just show up here like this?”

“Like what? Birdie, can you please start making more sense, because I am at a fucking loss here.”

She gears up for a verbal beatdown the likes of which have never been witnessed before, but then a nurse comes out. Tells them that Steve is okay (relatively speaking of course), and that they’re just making him comfortable now. And that she’ll be back out with the doctor soon to talk about visiting. This update deflates some of Robin’s bluster, and she sinks down into one of the chairs.

Eddie is still confused, but slightly relieved that Steve is alright. For now.

Under his breath he laments, “god, I wish it were me.”

It’s so quiet, but Robin hears him. Of course she does.

“Wait, what?”

He startles, surprised at being heard, and maybe a little nervous about speaking something so close to his heart in front of this ragtag group of people. But, he tells himself, they all love Steve here. So maybe… maybe it’s time to be brave.

“I wish it was me. The person who…” he gestures vaguely. “For Steve. If it was me, this might not-“ He swallows, hard, and looks away. His eyes sting but he’s not gonna cry, dammit.

Robin is just. Staring at him, eyes wide. “Eddie. What do you mean?”

It takes a moment, but he finally looks back at her.

“If it were me this wouldn’t have happened. Because I love him. I love him so fucking much, Birdie. And when I find whoever it was that broke his heart, I’m gonna-“ he clenches his fist. Clenches and unclenches. Perhaps unable to quite articulate the truest depths of his feelings.

Robin, to yet more of his surprise, bursts into fresh tears.

“You are both. Such. IDIOTS.” But before he can ask, again, what the fuck she means, she says, “it’s YOU.”

Eddie’s brain just fucking STOPS. Crashes. Like a freight train with a girder dropped in its track. “Me? What about me?”

“You, you idiot.” She’s up now, crying and shoving at him. But they’re half-hearted at best. And… is she smiling a little? “You, you, you! He loves you too.”

“Loves… me? Rob, you’re not making sense again.”

So she tells him. Everything. Perhaps breaking Steve’s confidence in the process, but if this miscommunication were to cost her best friend - her platonic soulmate - his life? That’s a small price to pay, she reasons. By the end of it, Eddie’s lost his battle against his tears. Dustin is hugging him as he babbles out, “but why would he- How could he think- I wouldn’t have let him-“

The nurse and doctor appear, taking in the scene, but not knowing the finer details of course. They tell the group that they can see him, but only one at a time. “For now,” they emphasize, with small, encouraging smiles.

Through a silent exchange, Robin is selected to go in first.

Steve is sitting up against the pillows of the hospital bed. There are various lines and monitors attached to him. Beeping at a steady, if not quite normal, level. He’s awake, and smiles a bit weakly at her when he sees her.

“Robbie.”

She smiles back.

“Hey dingus. How’re you feeling?” She sits down on the bed and reaches out, pushing the hair out of his face. It’s damp, soaked through with sweat, but she doesn’t mind.

“I’m f-“

“Don’t say you’re fine,” she cuts him off. Gently. Still touching him. Her hand drops to his shoulder and squeezes. “Not after this.”

They look at each other, an entire silent conversation passing between, before Steve sighs. The deep breath causes him to cough a little, but nothing comes up this time.

“Okay. I’m not fine. But Robin-“

She shakes her head. “I love you, you know?”

“I love you, too,” he replies almost automatically. Because he does.

“And,” she gets up, “because I love you, I hope you can forgive me.”

Steve’s expression turns confused. And a bit worried. “Forgive…?”

She backs up. Towards the door. “I’ll be back in a little while. But for now, I think there’s someone else who you should talk to. And who needs to talk to you.” At that, her gaze hardens. “And you better actually talk this time.”

She leaves, and Steve is alone again. He has a minute or two to be terribly confused before the door opens.

Oh fuck, it’s Eddie.

Eddie, who only glances at Steve as he comes in before pointedly looking away. He leans against the door, arms wrapped around himself. It’s the quietest he’s ever been, for as long as Steve’s known him. It’s unnerving.

“Eddie?” Steve asks. “Are you…?” He trails off, unsure of what, exactly, he was trying to ask.

Eddie says nothing. But then-

“You’re a real piece of work, Harrington, you know that?” He sounds angry. Maybe even livid. His voice is practically vibrating with it. Steve focuses on that, missing the undercurrent of tears in the words. For him, this is exactly what he thought would happen. She must have told him. Of course she would. And though he wanted to be mad, he couldn’t blame her at all. If, god forbid, their positions were reversed…

Eddie was talking again. “So you, what, rather die? Rather die than just, oh jeez, fucking say something to me?”

Steve wishes the bed would swallow him whole. He looks down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting. Picking at threads in the linen. His heart monitor had picked up a bit.

Eddie was slowly inching forward until he was right next to the bed. His eyes were also drawn to Steve’s hands. At the IV line affixed to them. At the nails, bitten short. At the bloodstains still lingering against his skin.

“You stupid, self-sacrificing son of a bitch.”

Steve winced. This was it. The worst nightmare he’d had since everything with the Upside Down. Only it wasn’t a dream any more.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” he whispers. Sorry, he implies, for falling in love with you. It’s okay that you don’t-

“Sorry? Steve you’re-“ Eddie chokes a bit. He sniffles. Steve finally hears the other underlying emotions his friend is struggling with. Is he… crying?

He absolutely is, and wiping furiously at his eyes. Part of him wants to grab Steve by the shoulders, to shake him, to scream at him. To demand to know why. What were you thinking? But then again, he already knows, doesn’t he? Robin told him.

“Why,” he asks, “why would you ever think that I wouldn’t want you?”

Now it was Steve’s brain’s turn to just… stop.

Very slowly, quietly, he whispers out a “…what?”

Eddie’s hands are gripping the bed railing tightly. He itches, how he itches, to reach over and take the other man’s hands in his. To twine their fingers together. But if he does, he knows that he’ll never want to let go again if he can help it. So before that, he takes the scariest plunge of his life. Lover’s Lake has got nothing on this.

“Steve,” he says, their gazes finally meeting, “I love you. I fucking love you, you idiot.”

Steve is shocked. Flabbergasted. Maybe this is a dream, he thinks. Or maybe I’ve finally fucking coughed myself to death. His mouth opens and closes soundlessly for a few seconds, minutes maybe, before finally, he manages to ask, “since when?” He swears he can actually feel the flowery vines in his lungs growing tighter.

Eddie smiles at him through watery eyes. “How long have I known you?”

Steve just fucking breaks. He cries, weeping into his hands, curling in on himself. Can’t breathe, he thinks desperately before strong arms wrap around him. Drawing him in against a solid chest. Eddie hugs him, tucking Steve’s wet face against his neck. He’s crying too.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” he says. “It’ll be okay now.” He hopes that this is true. That whatever fate may be, it doesn’t make him a liar. “I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Ghosts OC: Nah

Robin had more than one sister growing up. A lot more than the one he would go on to have children with. Many of his siblings died in infancy, as was common. There were a few that would grow up beside him.

Unlike the sister who would become his mate, who was always feisty and independent and not afraid to scrap with her brothers to prove herself, Nah was the opposite.

Six years younger than Rogh, Nah was a sickly child from a baby. Their parents had assumed her to die like the others, her baby's cry was too quiet and croaky, but Rogh was tired of having to watch his mother put so many babies into the ground. Rogh gathered some river water under the full moon and prayed to Moonah to bless it before pouring it over the baby's head. The adults were ready to chastise him, as he wasn't the tribe's shaman, he was just a kid and might have accidentally offended Moonah. But then the baby let out a cry loud enough to wake the tribe three fields over. A healthy cry, and she began to nurse at her mother's breast where she'd refused to latch before. Their mother wept with relief, and their father clapped his son on the back with pride. They named her Nah, in honour of Moonah who had saved her (with Rogh's help, obviously).

Nah remained a weak, sensitive, and fragile child as she grew, but she was stubborn enough to refuse to die. Though she'd have younger siblings, she was coddled more than the others, her parents and siblings overprotective of her, more so from those in the tribe who saw her as a burden, as much as outside dangers.

Of all her siblings, Nah mostly attached herself to Rogh, and could often be found following the boy everywhere and clutching onto his furs. She rarely spoke, which was hardly unusual when their kind was still developing speech, but she stayed mostly silent and preferred to stick to signing. Rogh seemed to understand her best. When their mother became busy with her younger children, and their father out hunting, Rogh seemed to become Nah's primary guardian. She was a shy and timid child, but Rogh was one of the few - along with their father and some of the older women - who could make her smile and laugh.

As he grew older, he began to resent his clingy little sister a little, as there were times he wanted to be going out on more hunts or play games that Nah was too weak to join in on, and even if she watched from the side, the aggression got too much for her, and she'd cover her ears and moan to be taken away to somewhere quiet. And that would be fine, except she would scream if anyone other than Rogh took her away.

One time, when he and his cousins wanted to go hunting, Nah kept tugging on his hand. She wanted him to stay with her and tell her the stories on the cave wall, the ones she'd heard over and over but never got bored of. Frustrated and full of confusing emotions, Rogh snapped at Nah and told her to leave him alone.

She did. She didn't so much as cry.

Three days later, Nah got sick. Sicker than she'd been before. None of their primitive medicines seemed to help her. Rogh tried to pour "moonah water" on her head as he'd done when she was newborn but it did nothing to help. Her fever became worse and her breaths short and shallow.

Ignoring the shaman's advice to keep her by the fire, Rogh carried her outside and laid her on a mound, praying that Moonah's direct light would be magic. At first, she seemed to perk up, smiling at him and holding his hand.

Rogh stay? She had managed to sign.

He'd grunted and signed back in promise.

Rogh stay. Rogh always stay.

Nah had smiled the biggest smile he'd seen her do on her face before she closed her eyes.

She died that night, only five Winters old. Rogh had stayed by her side all night, refusing to believe she was gone. And even if she was, Moonah would bring her back. Moonah would save her, just as before. When the adults had found them, they'd had some trouble moving the distraught eleven year old boy away from his little sister's body. He was convinced she was only sleeping.

Sleepy Moonah Girl. That's what their dad had called her.

It was his father who finally managed to tug Rogh away and allow his mother to go cradle her little girl. No one chided the lad, they had all known she wouldn't make it to morning. Rogh sobbed into his dad's embrace as the older man assured him that Nah would sleep forever beside Moonah in the sky now.

Twelve years would pass and the tribe walked on, following the herds of mammoths and other animals. On the last bit of land where Rogh would die, he'd find the same blue flowers growing in the forest, a rare mound of colour stark against the dark browns. In his darker times, when the madness took hold, he would see her lying there, staring up at him with that same expression as when he'd told her to go away.

Ten thousand years after Nah's death, he watches a different girl, also named in honour of the moon, sleep amidst the same type of blue flowers, bathed in moonlight. Silver, just like Nah, had used her last words in life to beg him to stay with her.

And so he does.

[eleanorroseaxoxo]

I Was A Father, And Now I'm A Monster

Heavily based on the Hayley and Elijah scene in The Originals [Season 2, Episode 01], credits to the lines used from that episode in this fic go to the writers.

Hopper had killed him. Hopper had killed the monster that had made him into the monster, his worst nightmare.

Hopper doesn’t really have any problems with vampires... okay, Hargrove and his humanity (or lack of) was a pain in his ass, and you do get the odd outsider who’s unfamiliar with his rules about vampires. But if you had told Jim Hopper 4 years ago that not all vampires are evil, he would’ve called bullshit. Jonathan was an eye-opener, the poor kid didn’t know what was happening to him, but as majority of them do, he succumb to the bloodlust.

Hopper wasn’t an exception, he drained a poor inmate dry when he first transitioned back in July ’85.

Hopper has been angry ever since; angry that he’s practically a walking-talking corpse, angry that he’s a bloodsucker that can’t stop drinking blood, angry that he had been torn away from Joyce.

If he was honest, Hopper was close from switching it off all together... and that’s when he was reunited with her.

After finally killing the Demogorgon, Hopper went on a Ripper spree in the prison. Let’s just say, there were a lot of fatalities.

Which brings us to now, Hopper smashing everything in sight with his fists, he feels completely overwhelmed by all of his emotions: anger, pain, sadness, and relief that this nightmare was over.

Joyce rushes into the room, witnessing Hopper’s rampage. She tries to intervene, hoping to calm him down.

‘Hop! Hop, what’s going on?” Joyce yells, concerned for Hopper’s wellbeing.

Hopper throws the crowbar that he’s been using to smash everything on the ground, completely exhausted. Joyce notices the look in Hopper’s eyes, she saw the same look on his face when he saw a bunch of corpses that had been mauled by a wolf a few years back; disgust.

“I killed him.” Hopper explains, Joyce just looks confused, not knowing who he’s talking about. “The doctor, that person, looked me in the eye and begged me for his life as I tore his throat out” Hopper scoffs at himself, both angry and annoyed. “But I don't feel better! I don't feel peace! I don't feel anything!”

Joyce shakes her head and looks at Hopper with soft eyes.

“I went through this with Jonathan, it-it’s perfectly natural given what you’ve experienced...”

“Nothing about what I am, Joyce, is natural!” Hopper yells at the top of his lungs.

Joyce, seeing how distraught Hopper is, tries to calm him down.

“Jonathan told me that as a vampire, you experience feelings with a greater intensity.” Joyce explains to him, she nurtured Jonathan during his first few months as a vampire, she’ll do the same for Hopper. “It will take time to control it.”

Hopper, on the verge of tears, shakes his head in denial and frustration.

“I don't want to live like this, Joyce. I hate it!” Hopper admits, openly crying.

It breaks Joyce’s heart to see him like this. Joyce remembers how people like Jonathan and Robin openly accepted their transition and learnt to adjust to it, maybe because Hopper didn’t have a good support system, it’s taking him more time to cope. Either that, or he genuinely hates being a vampire.

“When I first became a rookie and eventually a hunter, I finally understood the purity of being human. I knew my role in life, defend the defenceless from those monsters, to protect the people of Hawkins.”

Hopper smiles, reminiscing on his time in Hawkins; meeting Joyce, meeting and raising El, being viewed a hero in many eyes. Hopper takes a breath, before looking Joyce in the eye.

“I killed six inmates tonight before I got to the doc.” Hopper shakes his head in disgust. “Six of my own people. What's kind of hero does that? I acted no better than a...”

“Than a vampire?” Joyce stated, feeling a little hurt that Hopper is still prejudice against vampires.

Hopper steps towards Joyce.

“Everything has changed since July 4th, Joyce.” Hopper looks down. “And not just for me.” Hopper composes himself before continuing, “I saw the way you looked at me before. And, I see the way you look at me now.”

Joyce shakes her head, knowing it’s not true. Joyce will always love Hop, vampire or human.

“I was a cop, a protector, a dad...” Hopper cries harder. “...and now I'm a monster.”

Joyce moves towards Hopper to comfort him, but he is in no mood to be comforted.

Hopper just looks at the exit and storms towards it, but not before turning back to look at Joyce.

“Things are different now. You can't tell me that they're not. Now, let’s just get out of this hellhole.”

[sharonisthebettercarter]

lol you coulda just chatted with me in comments but it's clear ya had a lot to say<3 (i feel that honestly) ;)

i would say mm is motivated a lot more by justice than vengeance (two different things, often confused). yeah he's got his faults and his ocd doesn't help him (in a healthy way) with the supes and everything, but he's not even remotely blood thirsty like butcher is lmao (also doesn't take it out on random supes like kimiko or annie and i love that about him<3, he stays hyperfocused on the *main* problem which is *VOUGHT*)

mm's got a lot of *positive* masculinity tho which def gives *main good guy* vibes, but he's also the *honest* counterpart to butcher.

"i'm a motherfucker with a heart. where as you? you're just a motherfucker."

or in other words, butcher *if* he were *actually* a good guy with at least some moral code and genuine interest in what he advertises (justice) instead of revenge. but he's also def got some kratos (older) vibes~<3 which only adds to the heroic aspect of him.

hughie's a bit of a different worm can. people honestly do forget about him or why he's there half the time but it's *butcher* that dragged him in. (literally predatorily sought that poor boi out for recruitment leik--)

legit, he looked this boi up *right after he lost robin*, when he was most distraught and vulnerable and OOOOOH-- (butcher you fuckin' piece of SHIT I WANT TO SCREAM--)

but anyway, while mm claimed that hughie was butcher's 'canary', hughie's more of a... let's call him an insecure protag (lmao). he seems aimless and lost because he's perpetually kept on the line. he doesn't really have *as much* personal drive (he does, but it for sure gets muddled) at stake for the situations they're involved in.

*butcher* is actually the one playing *devil* on his shoulder while *annie* (and mm, kimiko, frenchie sometimes) are the ones acting as counterbalances/*angels* on his shoulder to try and undo the damage butcher does/veer him in the right direction/make it so butcher isn't the *only* voice whispering in hughie's ears.

but hughie's own desires and motives are muddled, squandered, and manipulated by *butcher*. in the first season, it was *annie* and co. that helped hughie come back to himself, but every time him and annie have issues, butcher gets in his head and--...

it makes for an interesting push/pull situation in which our protag is indecisive/a follower instead of a leader (which i would say probably gets missed cause people aren't used to it). but it's kinda like... he's got atreyus vibes/if the story were from the 'growing son's' perspective instead of the 'father who's done everything' deal.

it def hits different but hughie's perspective (and bullshit lol) is def the main focus (but i do like me a story told from a different sort of perspective than the usual, plus i'd say pretty important to the overall lesson being shown<3)

i think in part, he's also supposed to remind viewers/readers that being overtly decisive *before* you have all the info/everything is laid out is kind of a not good thing to do... also that butcher's a fuckin' asshole trying to CORRUPT this poor boi the whole damn time i--

contemplated at shooting annie (which he unnecessarily did)

punched Hughie for stopping him from killing Kimiko’s brother, Kenji, right in front of her. Then said if he got in the way of him reuniting with Becca, he’d kill Hughie too.

Used an infant as a weapon and threatened to kill them

Is a hypocrite himself (obviously)

Killed a whale

Drugged Marvin

He was willing to sell Ryan to Vought knowing that it would likely mean another Homelander. He didn't care, because it meant he would have Becca.

Insulted Ryan, TO BECCA'S FACE (honestly, Becca should've never tried to make Billy like, let alone tolerate Ryan if she knew that Billy has a weak connection with children and is distrustworthy around them. Like she should've just told him to kick rocks and make sure he won't have a hand in raising Ryan either)

He said that Becca could just "have another kid", not understanding that kids aren't replaceable, like objects (jewelry, cars, houses, etc.) That attitude is fucking horrifying if you're a parent, and I'd worry that he would have that attitude towards any kids (whether mere mortal or supe)

He betrayed his team multiple times

Threatened to kill hughie multiple times

doesn’t care who he hurts in the process

Gaslighted ryan

Let's also add the fact that he CHEATED ON BECCA WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER

Attempts to kidnap Zoe (based on what the trailers implying)

UNALIVES 2 CHARACTERS AT LEAST (ONE MAIN CHARACTER) wouldn't surprise me if it turns out to be Hughie, considering he threated to unalive Hughie numerous of times.

In all honesty, I hope he hallucinates an angry Becca and Becca's ghost haunts him in the next seasons, like Rhonda's ghost haunted Anika in "Empire".

don't forget unnecessarily attempted to blow up teddy stillwell~!

this shit would be why i roll my eyes anytime someone calls billy an 'aNtI-hErO' or 'gOoD', leik Y'ALL--

lol oh no dear gawd you poor bitch, my dear sweet beautiful angel baby child~<3

just wait until we get to the end of the story or even just a *little* bit further along... this ain't even the half of it...

;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

the ever expanding shit list on butcher can make homie look tame at times, but yeah no~. def not a good guy, def not right in anyway, one of the big main points of the story is proving butcher wrong and showing just how far his own head was up his own ass.

he's a secondary villain to the series, primary being h--VOUGHT (but also since people forget our *actual* hero is HUGHIE, and that the supes themselves are a SYMPTOM not the actual source of the problems *cough*cough*HEY REMEMBER STARLIGHT WHO EXISTS??* OR THIS WHOLE ASS ABUSIVE FUCKIN' COMPANY THAT EXPLOITS CHILDREN AND EXPERIMENTS ON BABIES LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS??????) and leik. he is *made* specifically to disappoint and prove the reader/viewer *wrong* about him (apart from prove himself wrong) by being his absolute worst with zero excuses for it at legit every chance he gets. mainly by being a serial killer butt~

he's *designed* to toy with our emotions and the hope that we see some *good* in him or give him the benefit of the doubt, because we are seeing the story mostly from *hughie's* perspective, and that is specifically how *HUGHIE* feels about him. and some are def blind to it (like hughie lmao) but some can see through butcher's bullshit (like *annie*)

like his whole damn niche is *dragging* homelander down to his level and causing chaos beyond his own wildest wet dreams at the *expense* of everyone else, and homie clocked that motherfucker before giving him the promise of that ticking time bomb explosion because butcher ain't the only one pushing him too far--but he is certainly the most devoted.

his *obsession* with homie completely consumes his life and everything he does. homelander *hardly* cares about billy beyond his being a persistent thorn in his side that *occasionally* provides *some* level of interest.

i think an easy gauge at what's really going on is to look no further than annie's perspective. many people are more than willing to overlook butcher's bullshit, but annie describes what's going on probably better than anyone i've seen.

for homie? she specifically says. "there's something *wrong* with homelander", but with butcher she just gets fuckin' mad MAD because HE. KNOWS. BETTER. and does worse.

the framing there isn't a mistake. leik at all.

post gen v, i saw a bunch of people calling for the gen v kids to join the boys or for butcher to 'adopt' them and the only thing i could think was 'dear fuckin' satan, for the love of GAWD, PLEASE NO' because the only thing butcher does and *would* do is~

ABUSE.

USE.

MURDER WHEN THEY ARE NO LONGER OF USE.

LATHER, RINSE, REPEAT.

it is LITERALLY all he does the WHOLE fuckin' time, and it's comin' to a head cause there is only so much bullshit his team will tolerate, and i--.

MM IS BETTER ANYWAY AND IF ANYONE SHOULD BE DOING ANY ADOPTING--

i need butcher... to stay THE FUCK *away* from the gen v kids because *when* he hurts them i will lose my shit--

i don't think hughie will die. given the comic, he's actually one of the few people i would say is actually guaranteed to survive (again, goes back to people forgetting *hughie* is our protagonist, NOT butcher), but he may be the one who ends up killing butcher, def not before billy does a ton of damage to showcase what an irredeemable scumbag he really is (i love him, i really do BUTT JESUS fuckin' CHRIST MAN--)

when it comes to ryan, that's a whole 'nother can o worms, but there's a part of me that honestly feels billy only protected him--not because he actually gives a shit about ryan specifically (let's not forget that moment he was about to beat ryan to death when becca died), but because he actually does care specifically about *keeping his promise to becca* and the leverage that ryan *is* over homelander.

and while i do think it's possible that through that and in his own twisted round about way, he *cares* for ryan in a similar way he cares for hughie (mostly just the connection to becca tho), i also think it's pretty likely there is a part of him that deeply resents ryan *specifically*, i think its SUPER duper fuckin' likely that as soon as billy gets the idea in his head that:

'ryan is a lost cause and can't be saved'?

*and* he's no longer of use to billy?

that poor kid's gonna fall to the 'just another supe freak/only worth somethin' dead' list for billy. :/

and i get it, it is fuckin' infuriating but he is supposed to be infuriating because we're supposed to realize just how full of shit and actually evil he really is under the bravado. he's just another extremist opposite of homelander to the point where even their desires and presentation, inner and outer, ring opposite.

boi is a wannabe frank castle with ZERO fuckin' principles.

but yeah, once you get to the point of trying to BLOW UP A FUCKIN' BABY, i--

[iamwhelmed]

Homesick: Chapter 1

I wasn’t originally gonna post this here, but eh. I post everything else here, may as well post this too This one is only going to be 3 chapters, nothing that demand my attention the way WOHT does. This is a writing exercise pretty much, just a fun one!

Summary: Raven finds herself carrying Beast Boy's child and struggles with the fear of losing him and the impending responsibility of being a mother; Starfire finds Robin in a precarious position with another woman. The two leave the tower to live on their own for awhile, just to figure things out. Beast Boy and Robin may be losing their minds, and Cyborg tries to keep everyone together.

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction.net

The nausea was twisting on her, like a fist in her stomach that rumbled and hissed and seethed every time she moved- not that she was doing a whole lot of that from her seat on the bathroom floor. She wasn't sure if this bout of nausea was the sheer force of terror washing over her spine in a shroud of blinding panic, or if it was a symptom…

She was, after all, pregnant. The stick in her hand, pink and cheery with a positive sign despite her ever-frantic mind stirring, said as such. She couldn't find it in her to muster up a glare at the + and the way it mocked her, not when her body was trembling and it was taking every ounce of control she had to not bust open every light fixture in the entire tower. Cyborg would flip majorly, lose his circuits, and attention was the last thing she wanted to call to herself right now.

She dropped the stick limply into the can beside the toilet, raising one hand to rub soothing circles into her temple as the other braced her body against the cold rims of the porcelain throne, keeping her steady in case her body began heaving uncontrollably.

She'd known, if she was honest; she'd known the first morning several weeks ago when she'd shot up out of her warm bed after a late night of reading to go upchuck. She'd kept herself calm, mediated on it, went down a list of reasons why she wouldn't-- couldn't-- be with child.

Or maybe it was just denial.

She groaned, lips curling into a grimace as she dragged her nails across the toilet's edge. How far along was she? She wasn't sure. Somebody else may have been able to pinpoint the exact… intimate moment… that placed a budding life inside of her. She, unfortunately, could not. Beast Boy, for all his bark over the ladies, turned out to actually have some bite to back it up.

A lot of bite, actually, and he bit often. Which was why she was here now, clutching onto what little was left of the herbal tea she'd tried to calm herself to sleep with earlier that morning. It was still hardly 5 am, early enough the sun was still hours away from making its grand entrance, which meant she had hours to figure out what exactly she was going to do before Robin inevitably woke up and demanded to know why exactly she looked distinctly paler than usual.

"Think, Raven, think!" Talking to herself helped calm her nerves, if only by a fraction, but her stomach churned with every syllable in protest. All right, facts:

1. She was pregnant, pregnant with Beast Boy's child; specifics were important, she could hear Robin's encouraging voice reminding her.

2. Beast Boy, the guy who still tried to convince others to call him "Beast Man", the guy who still regularly pulled pranks on his fellow titans, the guy who was still full of hope and enthusiasm and youthful passion… he was not ready to be a father.

3. Quite frankly, she wasn't sure she was ready to be a mother.

She took three deep breaths, trying to settle the urge to throw up the rest of her herbal tea, and perhaps preemptively empty her stomach of anything else she may decide to stuff it with the rest of the day.

4. There was no hiding this from the rest of the titans, especially not Robin and Beast Boy. Robin was the protegee of one of the most legendary detectives to walk the earth, and a leader who was defined by his dedication to his team and his friends-- his family. And Beast Boy?

Oh, Beast Boy knew her too well. He knew every nook and cranny of her soul, but perhaps more importantly, he knew her body. The first few times they'd… spent the night together… he'd spent hours afterward watching her sleep, taking in her shape, her tone, her skin, all of which would be affected by the impending life burrowed deep inside of her. She'd loved his attentiveness, loved waking up in the morning to his body woven protectively around hers like a second blanket. He'd always been gentle with her, understanding, and she'd acted in kind as they got to know each other on a more physical level, show each other just how much they loved having that special permission to touch each other, press kisses in places nobody else could, see and touch places nobody else could.

She could hide it for a month, maybe, but the moment she started showing, he'd know something was off, and that was if his impeccable sense of smell didn't give her away beforehand. Raven cursed, wondering what he would say, or maybe how wide and petrified his eyes would get before he inevitably either freaked out, or swallowed his fears and did "the right thing", only for the pressure to be too much for him to bare.

But what other choice did she have? She couldn't very well hole herself up in her room and wait for their child to come tumbling out of her in the middle of her bedroom floor, not that she would get as far as three weeks before Starfire and Cyborg and Beast Boy set up alternating camps outside her bedroom, waiting for a chance to talk to her because something was clearly very wrong.

No, she had to hide somewhere else, just until she figured all of this out. She'd leave a note, let her friends know she was fine, that she would eventually come home to them. But her home was starting to feel like a nightmare she'd accidentally conjured for herself. She didn't have to hide the entire pregnancy, right? No, she would go away for a little while and return with a clearer mind. That way, she could face her team. Face Beast Boy…

Her legs trembled under her full weight as she stood up. With a hiss, she braced herself against the bathroom counter. "Azarath… Metrion… Zin-"

There was a knock at the door, light, but present. Her body seized up, and behind her she could hear what distinctly sounded like the shower curtain ripping from the wall, edges squeaking against the tile of the shower walls as it clamored loudly to the floor, making her wince every bit of the way. Great job not drawing attention to yourself, Raven. She swallowed, hard. "Y-Yes?" She hated the way her throat choked her words into weak stuttering.

"Friend Raven," Starfire, then. Great. Then again, not the worst possible person, she mused. "I heard the throwing up, and I wanted to be sure that you were-"

"I'm okay, Starfire." She took small puffs of air through her nose, keeping her body and her voice even. "Probably just ate something a little past the expiration date is all…"

"But you are unwell, yes?"

Extremely. "I'll be fine, Starfire--" Her stomach lurched, and before she could curse the inopportune moment, she was heaving into the toilet again. The last of her herbal tea lurched from her mouth like a stream into the toilet's still warm embrace, and yet the little infant yet to grow so much as eyes was forcing her to further expunge her stomach. Bile mixed with water filled the toilet soon after, left her throat burning as she wiped haphazardly at her mouth with the back of her wrist. Not even a month old and her little one had a knack for inconveniencing her at the worst moments. She glared sardonically down at her stomach, still flat for the time being, and soothed very little by the hand that'd taken to rubbing circles into it.

The bathroom door opened, though she definitely remembered locking it. She turned her head to the side, just a fraction, just enough to see Starfire literally doing the most silent job she'd ever done of literally tearing a door off its hinges. The metal creased under the force of her hands, but she very delicately pulled the door to the side and off the wall, slowly so as to not make a ruckus. She placed it on the wall beside the door's threshold.

Her stomach lurched again, and she hurriedly burrowed her head into the toilet in preparation for the toxic sensation of heaving whatever else she had left to vomit. Come on, give me a break! If this was in any way an indication of what this little one's sleeping habits would be like, she was going to need help. A lot of it. She grinded her teeth as another wave of nausea hit her, and she heaved over the toilet, feeling her chest strain with every feeble attempt she made at throwing up. Warm fingers rested at her back, rubbing up and down in slow, settling paces. Her stomach immediately seemed to relax, the queasiness that'd enveloped her since four this morning melting away. She stayed hunched over the toilet, though, just in case. Starfire never ceased in her ministrations, pausing only to move a lock of hair out of her face, which she was only realizing now was paved with a thick coat of sweat. She'd seen the box on the counter, she was sure of it. There was no use hiding.

"Raven…"

"He can't know, Star."

"I do not understand. You wish to hide such a joyous occasion from Friend Beast Boy?"

"It won't be so joyous in nine months when he's got no clue how to be a father."

"I do believe Beast Boy has been good with children in the past?"

Raven pulled away from the toilet, and Starfire was on her in a second, gentle hands helping her to rest against the bathroom counter. She gave Starfire the best smile she could muster in her state, not much considering forcing a smile was difficult even when her insides weren't struggling to accommodate a second body. Starfire smile back though, getting the message regardless. There was no need to thank her, she was merely doing what a friend ought to do. "No, Star, he's good at entertaining kids. Raising them is…" Different. A responsibility-- not just to their child, but to her.

Maybe that was the issue.

Starfire frowned, then moved away from the toilet to sit next to her on the tile floor, up against the counter. She pressed her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, as though she was the one with a small bump to hide. "What are you going to do?"

Raven sighed, closing her eyes, hoping that the quiet she found now would give her room to think, maybe come up with a different solution, but nothing came. "I have to leave, Star."

"But--!"

"Not forever, and not for long." She glanced to her side to see the look of panic on Starfire's face fade to apprehension. "Just long enough to think. Decide what I'm doing to do."

Starfire's fingers twisted around each other, the way they did when she was stumbling over her thoughts. Raven could feel the trepidation coming off her in waves. She raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to tell her exactly what was on her mind. The tense line that had been on Starfire's face dissolved to a frown as she glanced from the floor to Raven's face. "And what if… you do not decide to come back?"

Part of her heart, squeezed and dry from all the worrying she'd done earlier, thawed at the love she felt in Starfire, like the very edges of a warm fire on a cold winter night. Of course Starfire was going to fear her departure, caring was what Starfire did best. "Starfire, I will come back. I have to eventually, even if that means I have to be away for a few years-"

"Years! But will Friend Beast Boy not be upset to miss such a period of time in his child's life?"

Raven's heart clenched again. "I.. I don't know. It's certainly not in my plan to be away that long, but if I give him a few more years to--" To what? Mature? Did she really want that? True, he was obnoxious, and sometimes he could be disgusting (Stankball, check and point), but his boyishness kept him warm, kept him bright and welcoming and, Azar help her, charming. Her worst fear was that he would lose that charm, lose his smile. She loved him, loved him more than her powers let her indulge in sometimes. To ask that he change because of a child he didn't even know about…

No, she didn't want him to change. That wasn't the issue.

"Raven?"

"I-I can't." She hated the way her voice broke. "I can't ask him to take on this responsibility, Star. As it is sometimes I think I'm too much. A child would just mean…" Death for the relationship. Turmoil for her.

There was a warm hand on her shoulder, and it squeezed gently, affirmingly. "I think it would be best if you spoke to Robin first. He is our leader for a reason, yes?"

Raven closed her eyes again, smiled to herself. Of course, Robin would be able to handle this, help her think things through. He was a rock in that way, understood her in a way nobody else could (aside from him but she couldn't talk to him about this, not yet). He would be there for her, just as Starfire was here for her now. Why had she been so scared of him knowing before? She smiled at Starfire, and it was weak, she was weak, but it was enough. She nodded.

The walk to Robin's room was slow, tedious, but Starfire's presence alone seemed to quell the urge her stomach had to make a mess of her intestines. She placed one pale, trembling hand where the baby sat-- would sit-- and took a deep breath. Starfire placed her fist on his door and knocked a few times, gently. The hour was still early, a quarter to six, and the sun was still not due to rise for another hour at least. Robin wouldn't be up for some time usually, but this was important. "Robin, I am sorry to disturb your sleep, but Friend Raven and I need to speak to you. It is of utmost importance!" There was no response, not even a shift in sound on the other side of the door. Raven glanced to Starfire, who was walking a thin line between frowning and pouting.

"Starfire, it can wait for another hour." She turned around to leave, but Starfire gripped the length of her hood and yanked her right back, causing Raven to sharply take in the air she'd been denied in that one moment.

"No it cannot." She typed in a number on the keypad to Robin's room, face set in a thin line of determination. Raven found herself squirming, ready to hightail it back to her room. The sliding door to Robin's room opened, and Starfire seemed to freeze. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere, and Raven could feel it the way one could smell a fruit turning. The air became thick with emotion, emotion Raven rarely felt in the tower, and only felt it in strangling strength once. When she did feel it on the regular, it was in such a small dose that it was as easy to look over as it was to roll her eyes, spawned usually from a round between Beast Boy and Cyborg where one swore up and down the other cheated. But this? This clouded her mind, took her heart and clawed at the already-worn muscle. Starfire stood stock-still at the door, eyes wide with an emotion Raven took a moment to recognize.

Betrayal.

She said nothing, just approached Star's side and glanced into the room.

Robin laid asleep, peaceful, one of the rare moments he ever let himself rest, become unaware and at ease for a moment's time. But Raven could sense, amid the terror that was slowly easing into Starfire, the new level of relief that seemed to consume Robin as he slept. She had a feeling it had something to do with the woman fast asleep beside him, wrapped around him in a tangle of blankets and-- surprisingly drapeless-- limbs. Both were dressed, of course, Robin never took off his mask and his uniform rarely came off, but the woman was in a state of considerably less dress, clad only in what appeared to be a thin pair of underwear and what must have been one of Robin's old training shirts. Both were fast asleep, dead to the world aside from each other, moving only to get closer together at the gust of wind his open door allowed.

Raven would have been in a state of shock herself, had she not been so emotionally drained from the last two hours. She turned to look at Starfire, who had begun quivering, the wheels of her mind processing the site before her with such a painful progression that Raven could see her heart breaking with every second that passed. Quickly, she grabbed Starfire and pulled her out of the doorway, leaving the door to Robin's room, and Robin's questionable state, to close. "Starfire…"

"No. He would never…"

Raven sighed, knowing very well what Starfire was feeling, and she didn't even need to use the powers granted to an empath. It was obvious what had transpired, if not because of the lack of pants on the woman in his arms, but because of the peace she'd picked up on, peace that, in her experience, only transpired after somebody got their rocks off. Starfire was a trusting soul, but with this came a naivety that rarely reared its ugly head. She would process the truth in time, given some space, and that is why she was talking before she even knew what she was about to say. "You know, I could probably use some company while I'm away."

Starfire turned her startled eyes, full of tears and disbelief, on her. Raven sighed and massaged her stomach with her hand again, feeling her stomach churn under the new emotional weight that'd suddenly commanded the halls. "I'm not sure if it's the baby or my powers, but I think dealing with this alone has made things a million times worse. I'm leaving, Star." But I want you to come with me. It wasn't a lie; the aching dullness of her stomach seemed to fade once she had a confidant. And the stress of dealing with pregnancy alone had subsided once Starfire's warm hand had shifted up and down her back, like a veil lifted from her head. Company was exactly what she needed. Starfire blinked a few times, owlishly staring off into space, tears that had welled cascading in trails down her cheeks to her chin. It took her a few moments, but she nodded. Raven sighed and turned away, high-tailing it in the direction of her room. "Go pack. We only have an hour before Prince Charming wakes up."

[rockingrobin69]

Stuck

Robin does tropes: stuck in a lift together, 900 words

The thing about old lifts is, they require maintenance charms. The thing about maintenance charms is, they need to be regular. And the thing about Harry was, he hasn’t been almost-sorted into Slytherin for nothing. He had a good head for scheme-hatching, and eyes operative enough for his knees to go weak whenever Malfoy was around. Toned, hot Malfoy, funny, sharp Malfoy, fucking ridiculously brilliant Malfoy. Resulting in this: a dire need for the perfect scheme.

It was really the Ministry to blame for making it too easy. All Harry had to do was bribe Doris, the Unspeakable secretary, for Malfoy’s shift schedule; intimidate the planning committee for the building’s blueprints; and befriend the custodial staff. Which meant that three and a half weeks later, having finally acquired the creme eggs for Doris, the plan was in motion. Now all it needed was Malfoy. And some luck.

Harry waited in the Atrium, pretending to read the Prophet, seemingly casual—when in fact he was in full action mode. He’s already tried everything; the direct approach was too head-on for Malfoy, and subtlety was never Harry’s strength. This was the answer, then—scheming as a middle ground. And it absolutely had to work. 

In three minutes Malfoy would be here, and Harry was ready. Has been ready for so long, daydreaming about grey eyes, and the way Malfoy throws his head back and his hair goes—

Erm. Anyway. He was ready.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on not spiraling. It’s going to work, it’s going to work, it… bloody hell, there he was, all neat and Malfoy and perfect. Harry gulped four consecutive breaths. Now’s the time.

The Ministry’s lifts were at least a couple of centuries old, meaning they required constant charmwork to operate. The thing about charms is, they can be tweaked.

Which was how Harry ended up alone in the lift with Malfoy, who suspected nothing, busy with his paperwork—at least until they stopped. The cage rocked a bit, not enough to make them move, but enough to draw Malfoy’s eyes up.

“What…” he looked straight at Harry. “What happened?”

“Some kind of malfunction?” He gave his best doe-eyed blink, mentally going over all the complicated spells he cast to create this exact moment. “We should probably hang tight. Someone’ll sense the disturbance to the charms soon enough.”

“That, or we hurl into our deaths at ten metres per second,” Malfoy murmured. His swallow was loud, loud enough for Harry to notice in spite of the way Malfoy’s throat bobbed.

“I, er, I wouldn’t worry. There’s loads of safety charms on these things.”

Malfoy didn’t seem cheered. “Charms which weren’t updated since the 1800’s.” His eyes jumped from one corner to the other, wild. Harry started feeling somewhat anxious. This wasn’t the plan.

“It’s okay, it’s not dangerous.”

“How would you know?” Malfoy spat. So close—but he seemed uneasy, and Harry hated it. He didn’t want this, he just wanted was a chance. But this was all wrong, the way Malfoy’s breathing stuttered—

“Hey. Look at me. We’re going to be fine, I promise.” When the only response he got was a whimper, Harry took a step closer. “Listen, I actually—”

“I don’t like tight spaces,” Malfoy whispered.

Shit, this was a disaster. Harry lurched forward to grab a shaky shoulder, and he didn’t even notice he was touching Malfoy, because the only thing in the world was to comfort him. “You’re all right. This was me, I’m so sorry. I made a horrible—”

How did he end up at the wall, with Malfoy pressing him back? Also, when did Malfoy’s distraught face grow into a smile?

“You think I don’t know that?” he drawled, and Harry was so confused he nearly cried.

“You—what—what?”

“Come on. You didn’t seriously think you can go around bribing Doris without me noticing. Scheming is a dangerous thing, Potter. What if I really was claustrophobic?”

“You…” Harry took a breath. Then fifteen more. “So you’re not, really?”

One of Malfoy’s hands was on the wall next to Harry’s head, but the second was touching his cheek, a soft stroke. “Lucky for you, no.”

“And you… you knew about this.”

“Of course I did.”

“And still came into the lift with me?” Malfoy’s cheeks turned pink.

“Apparently so.”

Harry wasn’t going to get this, not in a hundred years, he didn’t think. “But you never… you didn’t see all the—you haven’t showed—anything.”

“Well, maybe I decided to change tactics,” Malfoy purred. “Maybe I decided to spare you.”

“Spare me,” Harry repeated. He was probably dreaming, because Malfoy’s face came so close.

“Precisely. Spare you. If you asked nicely.”

Harry couldn’t breathe. “Please,” he blinked at the grey eyes, “please, plea—”

Malfoy seemed less intent on the begging, more on the kissing. Fine by him. Harry forgot about breathing, about anything else; just Malfoy, his mouth and his hands and his warmth. Harry was floating, on cloud nine, too happy to pay attention to gravity—

But the thing about maintenance charms is, they’re quite frequent. He barely even unbuttoned a thing when the lift was already moving. Harry leaned his head against Malfoy’s shoulder, laughing, ecstatic.

No matter what Malfoy says, Harry did it; the perfect scheme. Almost an unmitigated disaster—but they left the Ministry together, panting and smiling. Success, in his book.

[sweetberry47]

I’ve done a similar imagine with Loki & Thor but this is another scenario that has been playing in my head for weeks when I listen to music.

IMAGINE: You’re driving your van on your way to pick up your best friend and to give them a little “help” with a situation they got themself into. Whatever they got into, it most likely won’t phase you. You both have been through weirder things together. 

You come across a pretty empty park where you spot your friend along with 4 random strangers beside them. Parking your van and rolling your window down, you can’t help but give your friend the what the fuck look because truly, what the fuck was about the happen here with 4 strangers? Two women and two men. They looked like they were either late teens or early 20s, not too far from your own age.

The four strangers looked dirty and distraught, held bloody flash lights in their hands and were clearly out of breath. 

Rolling your eyes, you give your friend the nod to get into your van. You couldn’t even question it, but this just might be the weirdest situation you’ve ever come across.

Your best friend takes the passenger side while the four strangers hit the back. 

You turn to look at them, still so confused, “Where the hell did you all come from? You all look so... vintage.” You ask.

“Vintage? What like old?” There was a man with long brown hair and bangs with a black bandana around the top. He looked terrified with his big brown eyes. 

“Well, anything 20 years and older is considered vintage. You all look like you’re from the 80s so, yeah, vintage.” You shrug, smirking. What kind of day time party did they come from?

The long haired man’s eyes got bigger somehow, staring at the other man next to him. They all gasped and groaned. 

“Ok, I’m gonna need an explanation and some names if we’re gonna keep this conversation going.” You turn to your best friend who looks just as terrified. 

“I’m Steve. Steve Harrington” says the man with lush, full hair. He smirks, holding his hand out to you.

“What? Are you going to give me your social security code to or?” 

You couldn’t help but feel annoyed with the whole situation. Your friend and you weren’t the most social people, so how on Earth did they let you get into this situation? 

Steve’s smirk disappeared pretty fast along with his hand. 

He is a pretty boy. I will give him that.

“Ok... well next to me is Eddie. Behind us is Robin and Nancy. We’re a bit stuck if you can’t tell.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Yeah, no dip you’re stuck. How did that happen? You all look a little messy.”

Nancy perks up from the back. “We thought we were going into the upside down and somehow ended up in this forest, but this doesn’t look like our forest. You know like Mirkwood?” She asks.

You glance at your best friend. 

“Or even Forest Hills? Maybe?” Eddie chimed in. They all looked desperate for you to understand.

“Forest Hills? Like where the trailer parks are?” You ask.

Eddie’s eyes light up, “Yes! Yes! Exactly! Ok, so we are still in Hawkins?” There’s a group sigh of relief. 

“Hawkins? This town hasn’t been called Hawkins since the 80s. A lot of bad shit went down so they changed the name to hopefully drown the trauma.” You shrug.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa since the 80s? What do you mean since the 80s? What year is it?” Steve panics.

“Alright. Now y’all are fucking with me. It’s 2022 and you all can just call an Uber or something. I’m not here for games or to be murdered in my own van.” 

You can feel the stress in the van. Your gut told you they were being honest but how? You had only heard myths of the upside down. You had only heard legends of Hawkins. It was the stories you were told as a child so you’d be a good kid or the demogorgon would eat you alive. It couldn’t be real. 

“Y/N, you can’t tell me you don’t remember our childhood stories. Look at the blood on their flashlights! I don’t think this is a prank. I feel it. This is not a prank.” Your best friend pleads. 

You let out a sigh. I have nothing else to do with my day, I guess. 

You turn and look back at the 80s gang behind you.

“Ok, fine. Where do you want me to take you?”

Choose your own adventure: how would they all react to the music you’d play? 40 years in the future of music for them all - would they enjoy it? What comments would they make? Would Eddie enjoy rock music of today? What if you played them something spicy like CupcakKe? Would they understand your sense of humour? Your fashion? How would Robin react/feel to see how open and more accepting the LGBTQ+ is in the current world? What little 40 year differences would their be even though they are near your age? I like to imagine all these possibilities when I listen to my music. It makes my daydreaming very fun and hilarious. 

A/N: I did not expect myself to write a genuine imagine haha. I like to write ones like a do it yourself or fill in the blanks kind because that is where my imagination takes me. I used to write hella fanfics when I was a teenager. Lemme know what you think and if I should write more? 

[maleyanderecafe]

Raven from triania academy in dashingdon (tbh he/she reminds me of kylar from dol)

I actually do remember reblogging some fanart of Raven like way, waaay back when I first started the this blog, but I never really got around to actually playing through Triania Academy, or at least a playthrough of it since I mostly wanted to check out Raven. It took me a bit since my brain was refusing to cooperate with me, but I did get through what is essentially a demo of the game. If you are interested you can play through it here and follow @leo-interactive-fiction for more updates.

Triania Academy is a sort of scifi "What if Hogwarts but with super powers?" kind of reading game. You can choose the gender of pretty much all of the datable NPCs as well as your own. It starts out with you being accepted into Triania Academy, and being introduced to all of the characters there. The main ones are Emil/Emma, your friend from home; Robin/Ren, a charismatic person you meet on the ship, Leah/Levi, a shy bookworm; Vin/Vee a more rational and level headed person; Pierce/Pinna a more snappish person (possibly a tsundere); Matthew/Mary a more slow speaking drowsy student; Raven, a creepy stalker (the yandere); Snatcher/Snapper, a more outgoing and rambunctious character; and Fray/Flay a more snooty character. The first couple of chapters is more or less meeting all of the characters, and it takes a while to get to Raven. Eventually you do get the option to date one of these characters, and have an experiment done on you and the other love interests, revealing different powers like for instance Robin/Ren's power of manipulating small objects (thus explaining how lucky they are). Since the game is still in progress, we don't get too much after the dates you can have.

The concept is pretty interesting all things considered. There are quite a lot of paths to take in terms of the main character, since you can choose not only appearances but also reactions, ranging from being shy to snappish to charming. In addition, you can date any of the above characters and interact with them more or less depending on your options. I'm not sure where the path of the powers will come into play but surely it will be quite an interesting match.

My favorite characters are Levi/Leah, Matthew/Mary, Raven and Snatcher/Snapper. Levi is kind of obvious since he's a shy boy, I really like the way Matthew speaks (it's very slow but a bit flirtation in some cases), Raven is a yandere so- and Snatcher/Snapper I like their attitude and more chaotic energy. I kept on getting confused with Robin and Emil mostly because Triania's Emil is much closer in personality to Robin from Degrees of Lewdity(since they're both the childhood friends characters who are generally pretty kind) where as Triania's Robin is closer to my own character Emil (from my comic First Impressions, who are more charismatic) so you can see how confused I was while trying to play this game especially when the names were throwing me off so hard.

Raven shows up by essentially killing a bird that he thinks is trying to harm you. He also ends up breaking into your dorm for a bit and leaving a message in the mirror and periodically greets you during class, such as sharing a book with him or even being worried when you come back to late. He is also shown to be rather protective in some cases, such as with you hear about students that burned one of the library's books he pretty much pulls the ladder from under them causing them to be buried in a pile of books. Raven seems to really adore you from the start, willing to do anything (like an option to spin around three times) with little to no question. During his date, he brings you to a mansion area where he's captured the student from before and pulls him into an experiment. He also is pretty distraught when he finds out that you and him don't have the same powers after the experiment, promising that "he will be the same as you."

Raven is pretty similar to Kylar, but if I were to describe him he's kind of like a mix of Henry from Fire Emblem and Kylar from Degrees of Lewdity. Raven is a lot less like a loser type like Kylar and more like a type whose smiles are sort of unsettling and the type you wouldn't want to go near. He feels like he has the personality of Henry where he's mostly gleeful and a bit mischievous while still having the more stalkerish and clingy behavior of Kylar. He's generally seen as more happy and gleeful, while still being infatuated with you and being a bit too happy when stalking or sharing things with him. I'm not sure why he is infatuated with you since I don't think the story has gotten that far (though there are hints on the tumblr page), and so far it seems that he hasn't had too many jealous interactions. Raven does seem really smart and seems to pride themselves with their love of you. It doesn't really seem that Raven will kill based on the tumblr posts (which is fine since not all yanderes do need to kill) and does seem to have a future to essentially send him down the path of the yandere or to redeem him, which I think are two pretty cool options to have in the game.

Overall, the game is rather fun to play through, even if I didn't get through most of the options. This is only my second dashingdot game, so maybe I'm just simply easy to impress, haha. If you are interested, please give it a try!

[nitewrighter]

Maybe this‘ll be a bit easier;

“Friend, I am most curious. Why is your identity for fighting crime and evil called Robin?” Starfire asked

Robin: Robin Hood.

Starfire: Who?

Beast Boy: Wait--what?

Robin: Yeah. Robin Hood. When Bruce took me in, it took a couple weeks to make the mansion more like... kid-friendly, and update a whole bunch of it, but he was kind of scrambling around with the old antique stuff and we ended up watching old Errol Flynn movies on laser disc.

Starfire, clearly getting more confused: D-discs that shoot lasers?

Robin, kind of zoning out and reminiscing now: Sometimes I'd run around the woods around the manor, set up rope swings...I wasn't really getting along with the kids at my school, and I missed my parents and the circus... and pretending to be all... swashbuckle-y made all the hurt seem farther away.

Starfire, now very confused: What is a swashbuckle-y?

Beast Boy: Back up--You're not Robin after the bird?

Cyborg, yelling from the kitchen with his mouth audibly full of food: HE'S NOT ROBIN AFTER THE BIRD!?

Raven, glancing up from her book: Why do you call them 'Birdarangs' then?

Starfire, distraught: BUT WHO IS THE ROBIN HOOD?

Raven: Earth hero from like... 900 years ago. Carries a bow. Actually Green Arrow dresses pretty much exactly like him.

Beast Boy: If you wanted to be Robin Hood why wouldn't Bruce just hand you over to Green Arrow then?

Cyborg stepping out of the kitchen: And why do you call them 'birdarangs?'

Raven: That's what I said!

Robin, pressing his fingertips to his temples: Look--

[psychovigilantewrites]

Chapter 14 - A Different Point of View

Summary:  Things that happened that you weren't aware of.

Word count: 9,163 words

A/N: Thank you for being so patient with me. I struggled with this chapter due to its nature. I had to further dive into Bruce and Dick's character that I wasn't too familiar with.2020 was a very tough year for me. I lost lots, learned lots. And I thought that the quarantine would mean I would write more. But I was wrong. Life hit me hard, and I stopped doing a lot of things I used to enjoy.Despite being virtually absent last year, you guys stuck by me anyway. Thank you. I love you all for that.Special thanks to my two beta readers. You know who you are. Here it goes.

(i recommend you guys read previous chapters to refresh coz I had to lol)

Ao3

Masterlist

The roles that people played were false- a mere necessity for their career or survival. Everyone was playing a role, whether it was of their own accord or not.

Bruce Wayne was a role- superficial, fake, yet vital to Gotham. Batman, on the other hand, was a completely different role, born out of exigence and a sense of justice.

Dick Grayson, however, genuinely enjoyed playing his role.

Nightwing felt right to him. Being a police officer felt right to him. And especially, if not ultimately, being an older brother.

He listened to the dial tone of his phone, which rung for a few seconds before you finally picked up.

“Hey,” Dick heard your voice, the usual chirp absent that day.

Dick frowned to himself. Bruce was right about you being troubled after all.

“Hey, sis!” he forced the concern out of his voice. “You busy?”

“Nah, I’m just going over some old case files. What’s up?”

Dick leaned back into his sofa. Aside from the traffic blaring outside, the silence in his apartment made it easier for him to concentrate on analysing your speech patterns.

“Can’t I call just to ask how you’re doing?” he teased, easing into the conversation.

Everyone had always told him how he was natural at talking.

“You already called last week…”

Dick smiled to himself. He could already picture your narrowed eyes regarding him with suspicion.

It was good that you were always on your feet, but it was becoming borderline unhealthy. It reminded him of Jason and how he was always so guarded .

He pushed the memory away.

“I can’t call you again?” he rolled his eyes at no one.

“Bruce put you up to this,” you accused.

That’s because he’s worried about you, kid.

If only you knew how much Bruce had changed for you. Dick was glad that you were being loved by Bruce, yet he still couldn't help but feel slightly bitter that he never got that kind of treatment from his father- not the same treatment he gave you.

But he would rather die than admit his selfish thoughts to anyone.

“Yeah,” he conceded, “He was worried about you after last night.”

“I’m fine, Dick,” you insisted.

How many times has he heard those very same words from Jason?

“Well, if you’re not, then you can talk to me,” he offered.

A short pause.

Your response would be what differentiated you from his late brother.

“Actually, yeah,” you admitted.

There it was. No matter how stupid he knew it was for even comparing the two of you, he found that he always had to remind himself not to.

“How did you deal with it? Did it affect you?”

Dick told you his own experience with gore and dead bodies, how he overcame it, how he coped. There was silence after, and he just somehow knew what you were going to ask next.

“How did, uh, he deal with it?”

Your voice came in a whisper, hesitation evidently clear.

Dick was expecting it, but his heart still sank. He knew how everyone acted when Jason was brought up in conversation- he was guilty of reacting as well. He also knew how you were smart enough to avoid that topic.

It had been years. They should all have moved on, because Dick knew that they were also hurting you.

“He came to me as well.” Dick recalled Jason’s hesitant voice over the phone, never directly saying what was wrong, just rambling about things other than what was really going on in his head.

“Then he gradually called less and less when he learned how to deal with it himself.”

The day Dick noticed it, he was happy for Jason, but a small part of him was saddened that his little brother no longer needed him.

“I’ll have to look for that cognitive therapy, then. Thank you for calling, Dick. Talking to you helped.”

Did it really? He noticed your voice had changed again. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone on about Jason like that.

“No problem, kid. Call me if you need to talk, okay?”

The familiar beep left him isolated with his thoughts, wondering if you would trail in Jason's footsteps.

When will the day come when you eventually stop calling altogether?

***

He felt indebted to his city- the city he loved. The city he hated. The city that robbed him of his childhood.

He felt indebted to his family- the family he would give up everything for, the family he couldn’t stop hurting.

And he was sorry. God, he was sorry.

Sorry for everything he’s said and done- or didn’t do. But he still couldn’t stop. Because he didn’t know how.

Yet, no matter how much he claimed to love his family, the problem with Bruce Wayne was that he always expected them to be the people he wanted them to be.

Never like himself, though. No, he would never want them to turn out like him.

“That’s an order. Stay-”

The silence that followed the click in his ear represented the first time you had ever disobeyed a direct order.

It was a little late on your side. Dick and Jason had begun to disobey him within their first six months in uniform. But you had always been obedient- which made it easier for Bruce to trust you in the field.

This first time came as an unexpected and unwelcome surprise. And Bruce was…

Disappointed.

He grit his teeth when he saw you on the ground with the warehouse burning behind you. If he had just been a few seconds late, would you be in the fire, too?

“I almost had him.”

Bruce didn’t miss the wince of pain as you got up to your feet.

He had heard those exact words before countless times from J- no.

Bruce shoved that thought away.

“He would have gotten away, and we wouldn’t have known who it was that did this,” you argued, brows drawn together in a frown, mouth downturned. Your respiratory rate was high, and you were having trouble breathing.

When did you grow so tall? So confident?

Bruce silently pointed to the active security camera he noticed the minute he arrived and saw your expression fall- only for a second.

“I still think I made the right decision,” you insisted.

“You disobeyed a direct order.” He hated his own voice. The way he spoke sounded too militant.

“I acted how I saw fit,” you continued, “You always say to follow my instincts-”

“Not if your instincts contradict my orders.” He regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. He thought he had changed. But no, Bruce was still a dictator.

“Wow. Just- wow.”

He could see the little twitches of annoyance within the disbelief on your face. He understood it completely.

You were walking away, clutching onto your side and weakly limping to your bike, adamant on not seeking his help.

He hated seeing you injured, in pain. It was his fault. If only he was faster, he could have stopped Red Hood from beating you up. If only he predicted it sooner, if only-

“I’ll be heading back now.”

He missed what you had said before that.

“Robin,” Bruce forced out, “Have Alfred check your injuries.”

He should have been there.

When you drove away, he lingered at the crime scene.

Bruce flipped a switch in his helmet, and his lense changed. Non-organic material lighted up bright white. He noticed a fractured piece of shrapnel lying on the ground, less than a centimeter long.

He picked it up and placed it into a test tube from his belt. Switching his view to normal, he saw that it was red, maybe made from fiberglass. He could only deduce that it was a piece of Red Hood’s helmet.

Despite Bruce’s frustrations at you for disobeying him, he felt a swell of pride. You probably landed a hit hard enough to crack the helmet just a little bit that you yourself probably didn’t even realise it.

He shone a UV light on it. A small portion of it glowed.

Bruce had always been numb when he played investigator so that he would remain impartial and objective. That was true justice.

But when he pocketed the evidence and sped to the Batmobile, he felt something he had never felt before.

Against all logic and rationality, he found himself dreading to uncover who the blood belonged to.

***

Bruce never drank his sorrows away. It was dangerous, too easy to develop an addiction to. He could have easily drowned in alcohol at any given chance, like when he thought of his parents, or when he thought-no, knew- he wasn’t enough.

But no, he only restricted his drinking for leisurely activities. He was disciplined. It was the reason why he was who he was.

However, in that moment, staring at the results of the DNA analysis after hours of anxious waiting, he wished he allowed himself a drink.

Not because he was distraught, not because he was in grief- but because he just didn’t know what to feel.

It wasn’t numbness. It was just plain confusion, an internal tornado of emotions whirling inside him all at once.

Footsteps.

He tapped on a button once, immediately closing the window of the test results displayed on the screen.

Composing himself, he clicked on another pending case to pretend he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown. It’s just another role.

“Master Bruce.”

Why was he still up at this hour?

“Yes, Alfred,” he turned to meet the butler’s tired eyes- just as tired as his own.

Tired because of him.

Alfred was always up because of him. Because Bruce was a disease, constantly burdening others, dragging them down, keeping them up at night.

“I made some sandwiches. They’re light. Please do eat them,” he set the tray on the cluttered desk, simply pushing aside the numerous stacks of papers.

“Go to bed, Alfred,” he told him. Alfred was too old to be up at this hour. And whose fault is that?

“In due time,” he responded calmly, “What of the blood results, if I may ask?”

“Inconclusive,” Bruce lied.

“I see.”

Suspicion shrouded Alfred’s voice.

“How are her injuries?” Bruce asked, the pain finally creeping in, seeping into his bones.

“I commend you for asking about your daughter’s injuries after only four whole hours of staring at the screen, Master Bruce. You would definitely win father of the year.”

“I was occupied,” he sighed, “Please.”

“Her injuries are only superficial,” Alfred said, “Surface contusions at most.”

He still hurt her.

“Thank you, Alfred. Now go to bed.”

“It was only a little more than two decades ago when I was telling you the same,” he grumbled away.

Bruce made sure Alfred was gone before pulling up the results on the screen again, the glaring ‘MATCH’ sign staring angrily back at him as if it were shouting at Bruce, yelling in rage.

And Bruce understood completely. He had failed Jason Todd. He had betrayed him. And now he was back, vengeful, and full of resentment.

But that didn’t matter to Bruce.

Because despite it all, his son was alive.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

***

What did my son do to my daughter?

Bruce watched in horror as you lay unconscious on the hospital bed, hooked to the IV bag. He couldn’t stop staring at the bruises littering your neck.

Bruises that were far too small and evenly shaped to be the effect of a mere throttling.

He knew how the people close to him viewed him. He knew they thought he was strong, unforgiving, cold, emotionless. Especially when they put him side by side with Clark.

But he forced himself to be those things, because if he didn’t, he would have broken down years ago.

He was used to it. The pain. The darkness.

But this time, he felt like he was being crushed.

He felt like he was hanging on by a thread- no. A delicate strand of thin, brittle hair.

“It’s okay, doctor,” you had said, “I know what you’re going to ask me. No, my genitalia does not hurt. He didn’t do anything to me.”

He felt a wave of relief crash over him.

Jason wasn’t that far gone, then.

But as Bruce looked at your neck again, he still couldn’t help but feel nausea crawling into his core.

He still touched her.

Jim left after his questioning, and you drifted to sleep. He went over to you and looked down at your face, taking everything in.

Since when did you look so mature? When did you get so beautiful?

He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Even in sleep you had your eyebrows tugged down, as if you were angry that you had to go to bed. He didn’t know why he never saw that small part of you that shouted rebellion despite you almost always following his orders.

He realised that when he watched you sleep, you looked a bit like- no. Don’t ever compare the two.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to your forehead, trying to convey all of his feelings to you.

He was sorry. So god damned sorry for dragging you into this, for hurting you, for pulling you down to the depths with him.

Hoping you didn’t feel the teardrop that fell to your forehead, he quickly wiped it away before leaving for his press statement.

***

“Master Bruce, please!”

Another crash.

Alfred’s plea snapped him out of his blinding fury, his crushing pain.

He was standing at the hallway near the Manor entrance, glass and broken wood shattered at his feet, feeling the walls closing in and narrowing as Alfred looked at him in alarm.

“I-I’m sorry, Alfred. I-” he stammered, feeling like the small, helpless boy who watched his parents die before him.

He remembered the time when he was little, only a couple of months after the tragedy. He had done the exact same thing, taking out his anger and anguish by destroying things, triggered by something he had long forgotten about.

At that time, Alfred had held him closely in his arms as he stained the butler’s suit with his snot and tears. Again, a burden to the man who raised him.

This time, he refused the old man’s offer of comfort, walking past to descend to the cold darkness of the cave he was so familiar with.

Bruce didn’t usually drink his sorrows away, but this time, he did.

***

Dick wasn’t a good person. He was far from it.

Case in example, it was the first time he saw you after your kidnapping.

He meant to come sooner, he really did. But he was just so busy in Bludhaven, he couldn’t spare any time to rush over the moment he heard his sister was hurt. He tried to justify it in his head by thinking that you were probably handling it fine.

But he was just trying to make himself feel better.

What a great brother he was.

“So, why are you obsessing over violent crimes?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

Desensitization was one thing when you worked in that field, but obsession was a whole other problem. And he didn’t want to see his sister walk down that path.

“A lunatic just kidnapped me a couple weeks ago, Dick, maybe this is my coping mechanism,” you huffed, giving him your signature eye roll.

A lot of things start with just a coping mechanism, kid.

Dick knew it about it all too well. The people he brought in on an almost daily basis, high as kites. The accident last week on the highway at three in the morning, two innocent lives taken because of a drunk man who had started drinking three years ago to cope with his mother’s loss.

The man downstairs in the cold cave, who was just a little boy when his parents died, now living with the trauma while going out night after night to beat up criminals, sleeping only three hours a day at most.

“I don’t want your pity, Dick,” you huffed, “I’m fine.”

Yeah, you were. And that was what worried Dick the most.

“I know you are,” he tried to smile, “Which is why I don’t think this is your coping mechanism.”

You talked to Dick about Red Hood, sharing your concerns about him. This is what made you, you. Opening up to him, offering your thoughts and feelings. It was something he never had with Bruce or Jason. The both of them were similar in that sense.

“He won’t tell me either,” Dick huffed, “It’s always been like that with him. No matter how hard I try to get closer to him, sometimes it feels like he’s getting further away.”

It was the same with Jason as well. Did everyone he cared about just end up running away from him?

“I can relate to that,” you sighed.

“But I have a feeling that he will tell you eventually,” Dick tried to comfort you, “It seems too important not to.”

Dick knew better. Bruce had always excluded information from him, whether it was important or not.

“And,” Dick hurriedly tried to change the subject, “I heard from Alfred that you’re not talking to Bruce. May I ask why?”

“So that’s why you’re here,” you eyed him suspiciously. . “I came to check up on you,” he stated, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come here right after, but my little sister did just get kidnapped.”

When are you going to stop putting your guard up around me, kid?

“I told you, I’m fine,” you insisted.

“Then you’re fine enough to tell me why you haven’t been talking to Bruce,” Dick pushed, “I won’t judge. I’ve had my fair share of cold shoulders and fights with him too. I know first hand how frustrating he can be. So come on, tell.”

He saw you hesitate for just a moment, before conceding.

“We fought,” you began, “It was when I got back from the hospital. He wouldn’t tell me who Red Hood was. And he- he called me ‘Jason’.”

Ah, fucking hell, Bruce.

“Jesus,” he whispered, “What did he say exactly?”

“‘Back down, Jason’,” your voice cracked.

Dick saw the way Bruce spiraled after Jason’s death, and he would never tell you this, but deep down he was against Bruce adopting you so soon after. He thought that Bruce was using you to fill up the hole he too felt with Jason’s absence.

You were so like him, yet so different. Still, Bruce must have been really distracted if he could slip as badly as he did.

Dick would ask later.

“Now that’s something I haven’t heard in years,” Dick chuckled humorlessly.

Jason arguing with Bruce about using excessive force. Jason sneaking out to go for patrols whenever he was grounded. Hell, even Jason stealing whiskey from the cabinet at the age of fifteen.

He could still remember it so clearly. Jason with his dark hair poking into his eyes that were full of fury, cheeks puffed up and red as he pouted angrily at Bruce for making him stay at the Manor on nights Bruce insisted on going alone.

Dick tried to shove the past away. He knew he was making you even sadder.

“Has Bruce made any attempts to reconcile?” Dick remembered the conversation he was having with you.

“Yeah, but I’m still mad at him,” you pouted.

“And you have every right to be,” Dick nodded, “But Bruce, well, you know Bruce. He keeps these things to himself, but obviously he’s still hurting.”

You have know idea how much he’s hurting, Little Wing.

You avoided Dick’s eyes, looking down at your fumbling thumbs as the room became silent.

“I’m seeing someone,” you changed the subject.

“You are?”

Interesting.

“Yeah,” you blushed, “It’s still very new, and we’re not official yet or anything. But we’re definitely testing the waters.”

“That’s great,” Dick grinned, “Who is he? Tell me the deets. Spill the tea.”

He sort of loved gossip. It wasn’t a secret.

“I met him in the library a while back,” you excitedly said, “We exchanged numbers. Started texting, meeting up from time to time. He’s really cute.”

Ah, young love. What Dick would give to be at that age again.

“I bet he is,” Dick teased.

“What’s with that face?” you laughed, “He is! He’s slightly older, and he’s got this sexy bad boy look, you know?”

“I thought you liked the nerdy types?” Dick responded. He saw a picture of you and your classmates on your Instagram. Typical prep school kids.

“I never had a type, you ass!” . “You’re right. I thought you were completely uninterested in boys,” he wondered out loud, “Is he nice, at least?”

“Yeah he is,” you smiled to yourself, “He didn’t know I was Wayne until 2 weeks ago. Before that, we were mainly texting. Now we’re meeting up more. I feel like I can be myself with him. I don’t know, there’s just something about him that makes me trust him.”

So you still have some of your walls up with me, but you trust a stranger? Who is this guy?

“I’m not going to tell him anything!” you quickly added, “I’m not stupid. I know I shouldn’t trust someone I just met. It’s not about the confidential stuff. It’s the little things like how I feel, and my problems, and just- stuff, you know?”

The thought didn’t even cross his mind. Dick trusted you enough with their secret, just as how Bruce did.

“I get it,” Dick tried to rationalise, “You don’t know what it is about the person, but you feel like the two of you just click, am I right?”

It had been like that with Barbara. It had been like that with Kory.

Now Dick was alone, and deep down he knew that they saw him as how he truly was. Selfish.

“Exactly,” you smiled, “Been with anyone like that before?”

“One or two,” he brushed it off, “People like that- whom you just click with- they’re hard to come by. You should see where this leads. Who knows, maybe he’s one of those that would stick around, huh?”

What he would give to have at least one person who would stick with him.

After he met with Gordon, Dick went to the cave to see Bruce who was, of course, facing the computers.

“I know what you’re going to say,” his father’s voice echoed without even turning to look at him.

“Then you know how much you’ve hurt her?” he crossed his arms.

Bruce did turn around to face him, and Dick suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

He knew that Bruce hardly ever slept, but this was different. He looked disheveled, his complexion pale, his eyes more bloodshot and the dark circles even more prominent.

Alfred did say how badly Bruce took the kidnapping, finding him passed out on the cave floor with an empty bottle of scotch in his hand, but he thought that Bruce would have gotten himself together by now. It was surprising to see him that way, and Dick felt… Uncomfortable.

Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just the kidnapping, nor his fight with you.

“You found out something,” Dick narrowed his eyes, “Something important. What is it?”

He caught a flash of guilt in Bruce’s eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Bruce,” Dick groaned, “This is why you keep on hurting her.”

Hurting us.

“I’m protecting everyone.”

“You can’t use that excuse with me anymore,” he sighed, “I don’t need your protection. So tell me.”

“No.”

That was his final word, and he knew that Bruce would never budge.

“Fine,” he let out a breath, “Did you know that she’s seeing someone?”

Bruce frowned.

Which made Dick frown. Since when did Bruce miss things? What the fuck was going on with him?

“Name?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. And no, don’t you dare,” Dick pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Do not do a background check on him. She deserves privacy. Hell, don’t even bring it up. You have no right to go poking into her relationships.”

Dick was being defensive, but that was because he was trying to convince himself as well, which was why he didn’t ask you for a name. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“I wasn’t going to,” Bruce reassured, “She… She deserves a life. A normal life. Not this- not-”

Dick knew then he had to leave, because Bruce’s voice breaking meant he was far from okay, and he knew that Bruce hated to show his vulnerability to anyone.

“Bruce,” Dick said, this time softly, “You’re not alone, you know. I’ve been with you since the beginning, and I’m still with you now.”

And with that, Bruce turned his back towards him again, silently going back to his goddamned computers.

“He’s been that way ever since the kidnapping,” Alfred informed him when he walked up to the manor.

“I don’t think it’s just the kidnapping, Alf,” he frowned at the butler, “There’s something more to it. Did he figure out who Red Hood is?”

“Perhaps,” Alfred pursed his lips, “But he refuses to tell me.”

“That means we know him personally,” Dick theorised, “Who the hell could it be that he’s so adamant on keeping it a secret?”

“I do not know Master Dick, but it can’t be anyone good if he’s got Master Bruce drinking during the day.”

***

Bruce knew that he was wrong to call you by his dead son’s name.

But his dead son was supposed to stay dead instead of haunting him with that glaring red bat across his chest, and having that thought in his head all the time, he slipped up.

He prided himself with his contingency plans and detective skills and preparations, but no amount of time could ever prepare him for when he found out his dead son had sexually assaulted his daughter.

You seemed to have dealt with it surprisingly well, exceeding his expectations. In fact, Bruce thought it was a bit odd that you weren’t as affected by it.

And then he saw it.

He saw what he thought was the internalized anger you felt finally bursting through the seams of your tightly lidded emotions.

And he wasn’t prepared for it.

Bruce didn’t think you had it in you, or else he would never have made you Robin.

But there you were on the ground, beating a man beyond recognition.

He couldn’t dread this moment because he never saw it coming. Not from you. Never from you.

He hurriedly ripped you off the man, flinging you away with force.

Pulse was present, but weak. Flail chest. It took him only a few seconds to observe the damage you did to the man’s face. It didn’t look good.

“Stay back,” he growled at you when you came close.

He couldn’t look at you. He didn’t want to.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he heard you whisper.

“Call an ambulance,” he ordered.

There was no other choice. He had to take the fall for you.

“NOW!” he snarled at you again. In the background, you were on the phone, but Bruce’s thoughts were elsewhere, calculating what needs to be done.

You moved-

“Leave. I’ll deal with this.” You needed to go. You couldn’t be here when the ambulance and police arrived.

“Batman-”

“I said leave,” he snapped. He couldn’t even hear your voice.

He waited for the ambulance to come before leaving, making sure they saw him escape. Making sure he would be the one the media would attack.

And while he drove back to the Cave, he decided to give his son a call.

“Bruce?”

“Dick,” he sighed. He knew he had always been unfair to his eldest, giving him so much pressure to perform, pushing him to be his best- and ultimately away. He knew that he never showed it, but he was proud of Dick. He always had been from the very beginning.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t a surprise that Dick picked up immediately that something was wrong. If it wasn’t for the fact that calling him out of the blue was what gave it away, Bruce himself trained Dick.

“She- she crossed the line tonight,” he tried to explain, “Jerome Miller. She attacked him. The damage she’s done to him is irreversible. I suspect he will be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.”

“Jesus,” Dick breathed from over the line, “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I wasn’t there,” he grit. He thought he could trust you.

But deep down Bruce knew that it was all his fault after all. Who was he to act so righteous when he was the reason your parents died?

“I don’t know if she’ll talk to me, Bruce,” Dick sighed, “Not about something like this. She’s probably beating herself up over this already.”

“As she should.”

“Bruce.”

“Please,” Bruce asked, “I’m worried. She isn’t herself and I can’t blame her for it, but the chances of her talking to you are much higher than if I were to try.”

“I’ll try,” Dick agreed.

“Report to me after.”

“Bruce, we’ve talked about this,” Dick grumbled, “I am under no obligation to report to you. I’m doing this for her. Not you.”

He was trying not to go back to the man he was before, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

They’re your children, not your soldiers.

He had to remind himself time and time again. It was easier to be just a father to you as compared to Dick and Jason, yet even then he made slips.

“I know,” he apologised. “Thank you.”

Click.

And then Bruce was alone again.

***

Bruce watched you from the corner of his eye when you came back. He noticed that you had put more effort into dressing up when you left the house that day.

There was a slight bounce to your step and a small smile that played on your lips.

Dick was right after all. There was someone you were seeing.

But no, he couldn’t look into it. In fact, it would be hypocritical of him if he did. Dick had many girlfriends and flings, and Bruce didn’t want to know about any of them. Mainly because Dick was his first, and the thought of a boy he raised maturing and having relationships made him feel confused about parenthood.

Not that many of them lasted too long anyway.

Jason was a little different. While Dick had girls lining up after him all the time, Jason was much more subtle about the girls he liked, and that made Bruce more curious- but not enough to investigate.

He thought about when Barbara had caught Jason looking at her, making him turn red. He wondered if Jason would like you.

A tight squeeze in his chest.

He didn’t let his mind linger there.

Bruce felt obligated to protect you, which tempted him to investigate the boy you were seeing. It could be a trap, it could be someone using you for fame and money, or something even more sinister. Hell, it could be Jason himself after that stunt he pulled off.

But there was no evidence, and Bruce wanted to be a father to you this time instead of Batman the mentor. So Bruce would have to trust you on this one.

***

There was something holding Bruce back from telling everyone the truth about Jason.

And because he is who he is, Bruce knew what it was.

Guilt. He blamed himself for what had happened, and telling others about it meant owning up to his mistakes. Bruce never ran away from his fears and feelings despite what others might think. On the contrary, he held to them very strongly, using them as a motivation to fight head on.

This time, though, he felt more self destructive- the worst he had ever felt since he carried Jason’s corpse from the rubble- and so he tried to delay the inevitable.

But time was running out. He had enough time to wallow in self pity. It was time to pull himself together, and the first step began with Alfred.

The Cave was colder than usual that night, air thin and darker despite the illumination he had provided. Bruce was slumped in his usual wheeled chair, cowl resting on the desk after patrol, the weight of his suit almost crushing him in his weakened mental state.

“Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Please, take a seat. I have something to tell you.”

“I assume this is about the identity of one criminal who has been terrorizing your daughter?” Alfred retorted, sitting down anyway.

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “This… This won’t be easy, Alfred. I suggest you prepare for the worst.”

“And the worst being..?”

Bruce wheeled himself closer to the butler, leaning forward. “It’s Jason.”

Alfred merely blinked. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid my ears have caught up to my age. I must have misheard you, because for a moment, I thought you said that Red Hood is Jason.”

“You didn’t mishear me, Alfred. It’s him.”

Bruce saw the confusion in Alfred’s eyes, the frantic search for reason. “Our Jason? Jason Todd?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

And then, Bruce felt it. The pain he had been suffering with for weeks spreading to the man who raised him. Alfred clutched his chest with one hand, the other clenching tightly over the armrest of his chair, his breathing quickened.

“Impossible,” he whispered, “Jason died. How?”

“There was an event regarding The League and Superboy punching reality. I won’t get into details, but I suspect that was what caused the initial resurrection. The restoration, however. We know of someone who has been continuously restored time and time again.”

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” Alfred concluded, “But why? Why on Earth would he restore Jason?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce frowned, “But it is an almost perfect revenge plan. I would like to entertain the idea that he has brainwashed Jason into thinking we are the enemy, but I can’t put it past him to develop a hatred for me. I… betrayed him.”

“Master Bruce, this is not your fault,” Alfred rose to his feet, “If it is indeed Jason, we can still help. I have faith in the boy.”

“Me too, Alfred. Me too.”

Bruce didn’t miss the sob that echoed faintly through the cave when Alfred ascended back up.

***

As if in slow motion, he saw every change of emotion on Dick’s face. The way he blinked once in confusion, the surprise approaching as he widened his eyes, and then his eyebrows stitching together in a deep frown, his lips downturning and nose flaring in anger.

Bruce saw the punch coming, but he did not do anything to counter it. Gladly, he took the right hook Dick gave him, appreciating the sting that radiated from his cheekbone to his jaw.

“How long have you known?” his son shook in anger.

“Dick-”

“HOW LONG, BRUCE?!” Dick roared, fists clenched, voice echoing in the cave.

“Since the night he blew up the warehouse,” Bruce replied.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dick ran his fingers through his hair, “Jesus, Bruce. That was over a month ago.”

“I know.”

“We-” he choked on his words, “We deserved to know.”

“I know.”

“So why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!” he slammed his fists on the desk. Bruce caught a few drops of tears that fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce apologised, and meant it. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

“You’re sorry?” Dick looked at him with eyes far too cold than he knew, “He was my brother, Bruce. He told me things he never told anyone else. We shared secrets and jokes. We went to the same diner once a week to catch up. He asked for my help and I asked for his. And then he died. Just like that, because you couldn’t keep him on a leash. And now he’s back, and you knew it was him, and you’re just sorry?”

Dick’s eyes were wet and red, and filled with contempt. Bruce couldn’t blame him. He hated himself, too.

“Does she know?” he whispered, “Does she know that the man who attacked her is your son, and is my brother?”

Like always, he pushed the pain away efficiently, logically, objectively.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I told her this afternoon.”

“And she’s not angry?”

“If she was, she did not show it,” Bruce described, “In fact, she looked… Worried.”

“Of fucking course she would be worried,” he snarled, “She’s worried that she’s going to be irrelevant to you now the dead Robin is back.”

“She’s not,” Bruce growled at that, “She’s not his replacement. She never was.”

“Does she know that, Bruce?” Dick snickered, “Did you finally get over yourself and tell her that? Because the last fucking time I spoke to her, you called her Jason.”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. He was good at smiling at the cameras and making speeches and charming an audience, but he was never good with words, real words that described his true feelings to the ones he cared for the most.

“I’m sorry,” he simply said, now numb to everything throughout years and years of practice. “I promise, I will bring him back. Will you help me?”

“What can I do that you can’t?” Dick scoffed.

“You knew him, Dick,” Bruce said, “You knew him in ways I never did. I can predict his movements, but to accurately guess what his motivations are- you knew him better than I did.”

“Fine,” Dick conceded, “But I’m not forgiving you for this, Bruce. I swear, you’re going to pay for all the secrets you’ve kept from us, be it by my hand or someone else’s.”

***

“Did you know that your daughter went out last night to see a boy while we were patrolling?” Dick brought up.

He was looking at Bruce’s back, as he always was.

Bruce was on the computers, going through hours upon hours of security footage and traffic cams for Red Hood- for Jason.

It was difficult for him to put the two together. Jason had always been his little brother. Young, naive, inexperienced. And now that same person was the leader of the underground.

It was definitely difficult.

“Alfred mentioned she went out, but I didn’t know it was to meet a boy,” Bruce replied without glancing his way.

“Well, she lied to me about it at first,” Dick sank in a chair, looking at his nails. “Got pretty defensive when I brought it up. Even tried to deflect by using Jason against me.”

Dick knew you meant to hurt him with your words, and it worked.

He was definitely surprised that you would stoop that low because he always saw you as a sweet, kind girl.

People change. That’s what happens when you stick with Batman.

But Dick didn’t expect you to change so fast.

“She… used Jason against you?”

Bruce finally turned towards him, the ever constant frown a little bit deeper that moment.

“Yeah,” Dick straightened, “It was the first time she’s ever spoken to me that way.”

“What did she say exactly?”

“That I was distracting myself by using humor as a coping mechanism, and that I should come to terms with the fact that it was my brother who kidnapped and sexually assaulted her,” he repeated bitterly.

“What did you say to her that she responded that way?” Bruce asked.

“I was just making fun of her boyfriend,” Dick shrugged, “Why? Do you think she’s hiding something?”

At first, Dick thought that you were genuinely angry at the both of them because you were right- Jason did kidnap you. Jason did do those things to you. And Jason was supposed to be under both Bruce and Dick’s responsibility.

Dick didn’t blame you for it, because he would have probably been angry if the situation was reversed.

It was one of the mistakes he always made as Robin when Bruce was teaching him how to accurately deduce by reading people. Never assume that someone’s motivations would be the same as your own.

“She hid that she has… someone from me. There must be a reason why.”

“Or she knows how you are and would rather not have your nose in her business, Bruce. She did find out about that tracker you put in her necklace. How did she even react to it?”

Bruce had done the same with both Dick and Jason while they were Robin, though it didn’t come disguised as a pretty, shiny piece of metal.

On the contrary, during Dick’s Robin days, Bruce had hid it behind his third molar while he was unconscious. He only found out after a year, when he was held hostage by a mercenary who wanted to use him to lure Batman. Said mercenary had detected the tracking device and pulled it out along with the tooth.

It made him increasingly more hostile towards Batman and his never ending need for control, but at least it saved him a trip to the dentist.

From what Dick knew, Jason died with his tracker on him.

Bruce had said that it was all done in the name of safety.

But would you tell Jason the same thing now?

“I apologised and never replaced the one Red Hood damaged. I thought that would have been sufficient for her to trust me again.”

Dick let out a bark of laughter at that, but it was void of any humor. “Only you would think that not replacing her damn tracker would make her trust you. No wonder she hasn’t told you anything.”

It was probably best not to mention that you were now also sexually active.

“Do you think she’s hiding something important?” Bruce asked.

“Are you actually asking for my opinion?” Dick smirked, “No, but it’s too soon to tell, anyway. Relax, Bruce. It’s like you forgot what it was like to be young and in love.”

That was obviously a joke. Bruce grew out of his childhood the moment he saw his parents getting killed in that alley.

As for being in love, did Bruce ever allow himself that?

***

“What did you say she called herself?” Nightwing asked softly.

The poor girl was scared out of her mind to the point where Dick found it difficult to extract important information from her ramblings.

Well, that’s what happens when someone makes you kill a person.

It was difficult, so difficult, to face the fact that it was Jason behind all of that.

“I t-think, V,” the witness- Elena- stuttered. “She with him. But try to stop him.”

Behind him, he felt Batman pause. He was walking around the club and analysing evidence while listening to the conversation.

“She tried to stop him? Him as in Red Hood?” Dick frowned.

“Yes,” Elena looked down and rubbed her arms.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but,” Dick tried, “You told me they were partners.”

“Yes, but she try to stop him,” she repeated, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Dick offered a smile, “Thank you very much. You’ve been a huge help.”

“Am I going to prison?” she looked at him with big, wet eyes.

“We’ll make sure you won’t,” Dick assured, “You’ll get the best defense team in Gotham.”

“You can do that?” she asked, hope in her voice.

“It’s the least we could do,” Dick answered, a sad smile playing on his lips.

He’s our responsibility.

“Thank you,” she gave a watery laugh, “Even prison better than with him, I want to be free.”

Dick heard footsteps approaching. As he turned around, Gordon entered the crime scene, followed by his team.

“Of course you’re here first,” he sighed at Batman.

“Gordon.”

“You might have to speak to the police again, okay?” Dick told Elena who was suddenly nervous again by the presence of so many people. “I’ll make sure they know you’re innocent. Gordon is the only one you can trust, okay?”

She nodded, her gaze turning downwards.

“Gordon,” he approached the aging man. He was used to talking with Gordon in Batman’s stead, even when he was Robin, and remembered feeling proud of himself whenever he finished speaking to Gordon regarding cases without Batman having to add anything.

“Nightwing,” he blinked, “It’s been a while.”

“Desperate times calls for desperate backups,” he grinned, “Anyway, the girl. She’s a victim of Victor Ibenescu’s human trafficking trade. Romanian, only thirteen when she was kidnapped. She was forced to shoot Victor by Red Hood.”

“This Red Hood likes his poetic justice,” Gordon snickered.

“It’s still first degree murder, or at least, that’s how the law would make it seem,” Dick reminded him, “But I assure you she’s innocent. Red Hood threatened to kill and rape her if she didn’t shoot.”

That was a lie, on both his part and Elena’s. Judging by the way she averted her eyes and touched her own arm, Dick could tell that she wasn’t telling the whole truth about being threatened by Red Hood- but he also knew that he couldn’t expose her and get into more trouble.

He wanted to let out a tired sigh, but that would give him away in front of Gordon and the other officers. He still needed to maintain his air of hopefulness, and he couldn’t seem like he was troubled by his thoughts.

Time to meet Bruce back at the cave and watch the surveillance footage.

***

“He’s got a partner now,” Dick voiced out his findings, “Since when did Red Hood partner up?”

Bruce’s frown was deep as he stared at the screen.

Dick pursed his lips. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Whether this is Red Hood or Jason?” Bruce hummed, “This definitely does not seem like anything Red Hood would do. He’s always tried to separate himself from others because it furthers his authoritarian agenda. He does not get friendly with people because people are disposable to him.”

“So you think this is Jason, then?” Dick concluded, “Well, Jason never had much of a problem working with others in the past, and he made some friends. He wasn’t the type to be hostile to people.”

“He did have trust issues,” Bruce pointed out, “At the very beginning.”

“Yes, and he kept a lot of things to himself,” Dick agreed, “But he did have friends.”

“Special friends,” Bruce added, “Friends who gained his respect and trust. So the question is- who is this girl and how did she manage to gain his trust?”

“Hey, play it back again,” Dick said, “Those moves.”

Bruce played the security tape, showing the mysterious girl and Red Hood taking down Victor’s men.

“Arnis,” Bruce pointed out.

“It’s a little different.”

“She has incorporated silat in as well. Low stance,” Bruce observed. “She’s skilled, but not polished. It could be anyone.”

There was something familiar about the girl that Dick couldn’t pinpoint. Dick usually had strong intuition- a gut feeling that enabled him to know which facts to focus on during an investigation, or a strong ability to see through people.

But the problem was that it wasn’t solid proof or evidence, something Batman heavily focused on. It was a gut feeling that told him he knew who the girl was.

“Do you think it’s-” he broke off without completing his sentence. There was nothing to back his claims.

“She has no reason or motive to work with Jason,” Bruce shot the idea down, “He’s hurt her. And… She wouldn’t betray me like that.”

“She’s been keeping secrets, Bruce,” Dick reminded, hating the fact that this time it was him who was suspicious.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Because he never would have thought that Jason was capable of torture and murder, either.

Why didn’t he come to me?

“As you clearly pointed out prior to this,” Bruce grit, “She has her reasons as to why she’s keeping secrets. And it is most probably because of me. All of you kept secrets. But this time, I’d like to let her keep hers.”

It was sweet, seeing Bruce that way.

“Is it guilt?” Dick asked.

“It’s repentance.”

Dick hated playing the bad guy.

Because he wasn’t supposed to be. He was the one people looked up to for inspiration, he was the light to Batman’s darkness, he was the smiles and charms and laughter.

He wasn’t the one who would accuse his little sister of fraternizing with the- was Jason the enemy?

Shit. Jason had messed with his senses. Dick’s head was chaotic, his emotions causing him to tense up.

Was he wrong? Was he just like Bruce? Was he jumping to conclusions just because Alfred told him you were out? Should he investigate this Carter you said you were with?

No. I’m not Bruce.

And now, you were looking at him with angry eyes, betrayed and appalled by his accusation.

*** Large.

That was the first thing that came to Dick’s mind when he saw his little brother.

The last time Dick saw him, he was much shorter, and definitely not as bulky.

And the last time Dick saw Jason, he was giving him a hug goodbye, complaining that Dick had messed up his hair.

And now, Jason was aiming a gun at him.

The gunshot didn’t hurt nearly as much as the thought that Jason had indeed shot him. Did Jason hate him that much?

You’re almost as guilty as he is, Jason’s voice echoed in his head.

“Bruce,” he gasped in the comms, “I’m down. They got away.”

“I heard a gunshot,” the deep voice in his ear spoke.

“Yeah, Jason shot my leg,” Dick winced, “Didn’t hit bone but I think it nicked my artery.”

“There are children here,” Batman said, “I was right. He’s sabotaging the Powers’. Gordon should be here soon. You control your bleeding.”

Dick nodded to himself and took a deep breath before plunging his finger into the gunshot wound to keep himself from bleeding out.

***

“...suspects that the crime lord only known as Red Hood and an unidentified female were behind the home invasion. Maria and Joseph Powers were left in a gruesome state according to reports, but their only child Carrie Powers was unharmed. The authorities are not sure what Red Hood’s motive was, but more will be elaborated during Commissioner Gordon’s public address later this afternoon...”

Dick heard you close the door.

“You didn’t come home last night,” he lowered the volume of the television.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered.

Dick looked over at you. You seemed tired, eyes swollen and red from crying, wearing an oversized t-shirt that he didn’t recognize.

“I was at-”

“Carter’s?” he finished your sentence for you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sitting down next to him on the sofa.

Dick frowned to himself. Your arms were crossed, you were avoiding eye contact, your body was angled away from him.

“You heard about the Powers’?” he turned his gaze towards the television.

“I saw the news on the way here,” you monotoned.

You smelled like a different shampoo. It was familiar, but Dick couldn’t remember where he had smelled it before.

“So you know that-”

“Yes, Jason did it,” you said rigidly.

“Along with-”

“His partner.”

Ah, now he remembered the smell. Jason’s favorite shampoo. He used to make fun of him for choosing one that was called what it was called. He didn’t really care about it, Dick kept his hair soft and fluffy with multiple women’s hair products. He just liked to rile Jason up because he was so defensive about it.

And with that, Dick let out a long, disappointed sigh.

“Bruce is in the cave. I suggest that you think long and hard about what to tell him,” Dick offered you a soft smile, “But no matter what you choose to say, you’ll always be my sister, and I’ll always love you no matter what, okay?”

You gave him a look of shock, and then realised that he had figured it out.

“I’m sorry, Dick,” you lips trembled, your eyes started brimming with tears.

“No, kid. I’m sorry,” he replied, “Go.”

You nodded and left.

Despite being right all along, he didn’t feel any sense of achievement. Dick couldn’t help but partly blame himself. For being so absent, for being neglectful, for being a bad brother.

Dick wasn’t perfect, but like hell would he stop trying to be.

***

For years Bruce had tried to stop feeling guilty for being relieved whenever someone else takes care of a problem he couldn’t solve- especially when it involved murder.

Bruce had tried to take down the Powers for almost a decade, and everytime he got close, there was always another obstacle in the way. It was difficult to expose the rich and powerful without resorting to violence, without resorting to breaking his principles.

So Bruce was ready to stop himself from internally celebrating their deaths. This time, however, he wasn’t as pleased. Because this time, it was Jason who brutally murdered two people. Jason, who was supposed to be under his care and responsibility.

“Bruce?” he heard your timid, small voice from behind him. “I have to tell you something.”

And there it was.

Bruce turned around and looked straight at you, piercing your eyes with his own as he waited on your confession.

A minute passed.

“I’m V,” you struggled to speak, “I’ve been meeting up with Jason for a few months now. I didn’t know he was Red Hood until you told me. But when you did tell me, I chose to confront him and team up with him anyway.”

Bruce didn’t say anything.

“He- he’s not a bad person, Bruce,” you justified, “He’s just really hurt. He needs help.”

You were telling Bruce things he already knew.

“I- I fell in love with him,” you continued, “And I let my feelings cloud my judgement and betrayed your trust. At first I thought that he was onto something, that his… methods were better than yours. And I was angry that you kept secrets from me. But after last night- after what I saw- I couldn’t- I couldn’t stay.”

Bruce clenched his jaw.

He suspected it. Dick suspected it. But for your sake, the both of them chose to put their trust in you. He had tried so hard to change from his old ways. He learned his lesson with both Dick and Jason.

He didn’t want you to go through the same thing they did.

So, he chose to blindly trust you anyway, hoping that he wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” you were sobbing now, “I’m so sorry. Please, say something.”

After another minute of watching you break down in front of him, Bruce finally spoke up.

“Hang up your colors. You’re no longer my Robin.”

[tarisilmarwen]

RobStar Week 2021, Day 6 - Formal Night

(Have a RobStar/BBRae double date for this prompt as a two for one special!)

---

"Do we have to go to this?" Beast Boy whined, fidgeting a little as Raven straightened his bow tie.  "Can't we just like, video conference in or something?"

"Metropolitan Society of the Arts hasn't quite nailed down simulcast technology yet," Robin said in explanation, helping the changeling into his dinner jacket.  "We could watch the livestream, but it'd be really laggy, and we'd lose connection more often than not."  He brushed Beast Boy's sleeves off when he was done.  "Besides, this is culture.  It's good for you."

Beast Boy gave an uncertain whine, but made no further comment, as Raven withdrew to slip her faux-fur-lined shawl around her shoulders and Starfire moved in to futz with his hair, smoothing it down into a semblance of orderly flatness.

"Do you not like the opera, Beast Boy?" she asked him, making sure his hair was to her satisfaction before stepping back and tugging up her long gloves again.

"Never really been my thing," he admitted, reaching up and feeling the slicked-down hairdo.  "Always puts me to sleep."

Robin wound an arm inside Starfire's, his jacket sliding neatly against the silk of her gloves.  "I wouldn't blame you," he laughed.  "Opera is kind of an acquired taste."

Starfire beamed at him, her eyes sparkling.  "It reminds me of the poetic ballads we would perform upon royal holidays," she commented.  "I am very excited for this."

Beast Boy shrugged, grabbing up his wallet and shoving it into his back pocket before reaching to grab Raven's hand.  "Well, as long as you guys enjoy it, I think I can manage."

Raven gave a wry smile as she entwined fingers in his.  The contented feelings of love and happiness from their double dates were like a warmth on her senses, familiar and comforting.  Starfire's eager excitement and the anxious thrill racing inside Robin at the thought of doing something with her she loved never failed to make the empath feel... more at ease, somehow.

The looks of adoration they traded with each other, the casual level of comfort they felt... She and Beast Boy were still navigating their awkward newfound feelings for each other but Raven very much hoped they could reach that level of ease with each other.

Beast Boy did like to cuddle, so that was a good start.

She squeezed his hand encouragingly, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"I snuck your gameboy into my clutch," she told him.  "If you can stay awake until intermission, we'll sneak off and find a quiet corner."

He looked confused and bewildered a moment, but then seemed to light upon her insinuations.  "Ohhh, leave the happy couple alone for an hour, I get it," he said with a grin.

Fortunately Robin and Starfire were busy fussing over who was going to hold the tickets and didn't hear their private exchange.

*** Starfire's eyes were shimmering; she clutched hands over her heart as she listened with rapturous emotion, her Tamaranian powers almost haywire inside her with the strength of her feelings.

Beast Boy was snoring lightly in his seat, his head slumped over the top and drooling a little from his mouth, but Raven didn't seem to mind, leaned against his shoulder and quietly listening to the music with a faint smile.

Starfire could feel Robin's eyes on her instead of the performers, watching her reaction to every line, every moment, but she barely paid attention, so enraptured she was with the moving story and the beauty and technique of the singers' performances.

The main soloist was onstage now, pouring her heart out into a powerful aria about difficult love and Starfire felt herself ache for the poor fictional girl, doomed to forever be apart from the one she treasured and adored.

She clapped vigorously with the rest of the audience as the act concluded, peeking aside at Robin when he stood up, and doing the same.

"What is this called?" she asked, observing the same phenomenon from patrons down below on the floor.

"A standing ovation," he explained, saying it into her ear.  "It's basically used to compliment the performer, tell them they did a really great job."

Starfire beamed and clapped harder, joining the chorus of appreciation for the soloist, who stepped forward and took a quick bow as the lights came up.

Beast Boy snorted and startled awake, shaking his head and quickly wiping the drool away with his sleeve.  "What'd I miss?" he asked.

Starfire jumped into an explanation at once, her dress swishing around her ankles as she turned eagerly to Beast Boy.  "The heroine and her lover both snuck away from their houses for a secret rendezvous, in which they proclaimed their eternal affection for each other.  But the heroine's stern guardian found them out, and attempted to duel the lover to the death.  He barely escaped with his life and now the heroine has been locked in her room and has conveyed that she feels she cannot live without him."

"Oh."  Beast Boy scratched his ear.  "So pretty normal stuff, then."

"It was so moving!" Starfire exclaimed, her voice almost breathless.  "The lyrics of the aria were so beautifully poetic!"

Behind her, Beast Boy observed Robin, his eyes shining at Starfire like she was the beautiful piece of poetry.

He smirked a little to himself.  "Yeah I'll bet.  Hey Rae."  He nudged Raven conspiratorially.  "You remember where the bathrooms were?  I uh... kinda need to use the men's room.  Fast."

She caught on to his excuse, rising from her seat with him.  "Well don't pee on the floor, I'll get you there," she assured him, trying to hide her grin.

She quickly enveloped them in black energy and teleported them away.

***

He'd known Starfire was a sap—known for ages, really—but it still surprised and alarmed him when the Tamaranian princess burst into tears at the conclusion of another powerful number.

"Woah, woah, hey!" he said in concern, turning in his seat towards her at once as the applause filled the auditorium, almost drowning him out.  "Star, are you okay?"

She hiccuped, her breath hitching and stuttering as she tried to get her words out.  "It is just—so sad!" she managed around choked sobs.  "They can—never tr—truly be accepted by their families!"  Big wet tears were sliding down her cheeks, running the mascara Raven had so painstakingly helped her apply earlier that evening.  Starfire fumbled in her clutch purse for a tissue, her hands shaky, Robin eventually producing his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing away at her eyes, worry pinching between his brows.

She looked at him gratefully when he finished, whispering a strained, "Thank you."

He nodded silently but sent an anxious glance back towards the door that led into their private balcony box.  Raven and Beast Boy had been on a long bathroom break.

Where the hell are they?, he wondered anxiously.

Turning his attention to his distraught girlfriend, Robin wrapped arms around her shoulders and waist, rubbing up and down her back, trying to soothe her back to emotional stability.  She calmed as he held her, her sniffles settling down, quieting into a somber ease.

"Sorry," he said.  "I should have warned you this one had a tragic ending."

"It is not that," she mumbled, hiding her face against his lapels now, vibrating the words against his chest.  "It is.. very silly but... these kinds of... melodramas about love and romance," she began, raising her head slightly, looking into his face with sad green eyes.  "It just brings up... old buried feelings," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Starfire took a deep breath, wringing her gloved hands.  "For the longest time... I feared you did not have any desire to be with me," she admittedly quietly.

That stung like the knife the heroine had stabbed herself with in Robin's own heart, and he gripped her tighter, fiercely.  "I know," he whispered in apology.  "I was stupid.  I kept putting up excuses for why we shouldn't be together, and I hurt you with how long I stalled, afraid of my feelings."  He shook his head.  "Afraid of myself, of being vulnerable."

"That is not how you feel now," Starfire said with conviction, looking at him adoringly.

He grinned.  "Nope," he agreed.  "I can say it now.  I love you, Starfire, and I never want to be without you again."

Her smile cracked her face and she flung herself at him, capturing his lips with a kiss as the audience applause and cheers down below became deafening.

***

Raven had the audacity to look completely unbothered as Robin stalked up to her, with Starfire trailing behind, leaned up against the wall just outside the men's bathroom with her arms crossed casually.  Beast Boy sat indian-style on the floor next to her strappy sandals, thoroughly engrossed in his handheld gaming device, beeping softly as he mashed buttons.

Robin set annoyed eyes on them.  "And where exactly have you two been?" he demanded.

"What?" Raven replied, shrugging.  "Starfire gets a little overpowering on the senses when she's emotional.  I figured I'd spare myself the headache."

"Besides dudes," Beast Boy piped in, not looking up, "we figured you two could use some alone time.  You guys haven't been on a real date in ages."

"Is that what you were doing?" Robin pressed, still a little irritated.  He nodded his chin towards Raven's shoulder, where her dress strap was askew, down around her upper arm.  "Having alone time?"

Raven coughed lightly and surreptitiously reached to fix her strap and cover it over with her shawl.

"The sentiment is appreciated," Starfire spoke up, eyes soft but strained, "but I was looking forward to spending the time with the both of you."

"Well, the night's still young," Beast Boy said, standing up, his Gameboy loose in one hand.  "I'm sure we can find something to do that we'll all like."

"Oooh!" Starfire exclaimed breathlessly, turning to her date.  "Robin, there are newborn giraffes at the Jump City Zoo!"

"Sounds good to me!" Beast Boy said, immediately grinning.  "Rae?"

"Nice quiet evening with only a few people and lots of calm content animals?  Sounds up my alley," she quipped.

Robin had trouble finding his words for a moment, having been quite distracted by the warm golden chandelier light glistening in Starfire's red hair and the adorable eagerness with which she looked at him, and stammered a bit before his brain shook itself back into order.

"Uh... that's—I mean—uh... uh yeah, sounds—sounds good to me."

She gave him a peck on the check affectionately, amused by how easily she could still flummox him, and slipped her gloved arm through his elbow, settling comfortably into his side.

"Would we not be overdressed, though, in this attire?" she asked, slight worry wrinkling her brows.

"You should keep the dress on," Robin blurted, then blushed heavily and trailed off into babbling again.  "It—I mean it uh—it suits you, green always—uh it looks—it looks really great on you and—"

Beast Boy rolled his eyes.  "Ugh, they're like the model couple, it's disgusting," he commented aside to Raven.

"Revolting," she agreed with a smile.  After a pause she shouldered away from the wall.  "C'mon," she urged.

Giggling, Starfire tugged her still-blushing boyfriend along as the two couples made their way through the glimmering tiled halls of the theater towards the exit.

---

So I’m not saying that Raven and Beast Boy totally had sloppy makeouts in the men’s bathroom but... yeah I’m totally saying that lol.

[cdelphiki]

She couldn’t do this.

Damian. Her precious little Damian. The baby with a beautiful smile. Infectious laugh. Adorable babble. Who so sweetly, so gently, pet any stray cat that sat still long enough for him to ‘catch.’ Who hugged anyone that cared for him, and even the random servants who lingered long enough.

That baby. Her baby.

Watching him, at 18-months-old, be taught how to wield a sword. Watching as the trainer smacked his hands, his side, his face, every time he wobbled, or lost interest, or got confused.

Hearing his cry, and seeing his pleading eyes, whenever it happened.

Seeing him look at her, and call for her, then get distraught because she did nothing.

She just stood there.

Next to her father.

And watched.

There was nothing more she could do. Going against her father would only bring more harm on her son. It would only risk Father taking Damian from her entirely.

But she couldn’t do this.

It felt like her heart was being ripped out of her body.

Someone was inside her, with red hot claws, scratching away. Destroying everything. Killing her.

Her stomach was filling with vile acid, and just one move, one word, and it might come up.

Weakness, her father would say.

Useless.

Pathetic.

Perhaps that is why he ordered her presence, for this training session.

She’d hardly been allowed time with her son. Not in nearly a year had she been granted daily visits with him.

Her father had been disappointed in how attached she’d been becoming.

‘He is to be a warrior,’ Father had said, ‘worthy of his station. He cannot become the Demon’s head if he is soft.’

Perhaps it was then she should have done something.

Said something.

But instead, she just bowed her head and followed orders.

Like a good daughter would do.

What use was that now?

Damian whimpered again, as his trainer smacked him on the back with the flat of his blade. He’d started slouching. They were working on form.

Talia resisted closing her eyes. She knew, she knew if she did, she would not be able to stop the tears that followed.

She had to remain strong. Stable. Unaffected….

Unaffected in her father’s eyes, at least.

When she’d lied to Bruce, when she’d told him she’d miscarried…. What was she thinking?

She- she hadn’t wanted to betray her father. Hadn’t wanted to betray the League. This was her life. She’d been raised in this, she owed everything she had. Her training. Her wealth. Her skills. Everything to her father.

But-

But what did that matter?

Was it worth it? Was her son worth it?

“All done,” Damian pleaded, when he fell over and scraped his hands on the hard cement, “all done all done all done.”

The trainer just stood him back up and handed him the sword again, ignoring his cries.

When Damian looked at her and cried, “Mama,” again, Talia could taste the bile.

How could she have just handed her son over to Ra’s like this? What kind of monster was she?

Her son was crying for her, and she was standing by, watching him be hurt.

All because her father told her to.

The fact that he knew to call her ‘Mama’ was all because she snuck in to see him. Ordered his nursemaids to leave the room. Swore them to secrecy.

Had killed, a few of them…

She’s more than sure Ra’s had noticed, now.

As Talia stood there, watching her son struggle to stop crying and listen to his trainer, Talia made a decision.

Because nearly two years ago, when she’d told Bruce about her ‘miscarriage,’ she’d made a huge mistake.

Her father’s influence was toxic.

This training?

It was hell.

Talia loved what it’d turned her into, she loved her skills and abilities.

But if this was the cost?

This?

Her child?

There was only one place on earth where she’d be safe, where he’d be safe. One person able to offer that protection.

And once Talia told him, she knew he’d move heaven and earth to get them away.

- - -

To say Bruce was suspicious would be an understatement.

Talia had broken ties with him two years prior.

On not-so-friendly terms, at that.

She’d betrayed him. Joined her father, and all but stabbed him in the back in doing so.

He’d loved her.

He really had.

She had been- he thought she was-

They were going to spend their lives together. Raise a child. He thought she was-

But that was over. In the past.

And yet, there she was, staring back at him through a webcam, asking for his help.

Asking for help, after hacking into his computer, in the cave, where his son could enter at any moment.

How on earth was he supposed to explain his past fling with Talia al Ghul to Jason?

“Why should I trust you?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Because how would he be able to deny her request?

Once upon a time, he would have died for this opportunity. Would have cried, from utter relief, to get her away from the League. To bring her home. Keep her safe.

Yes. She could keep herself safe. Defend herself. Hold her own, against even him, but he could offer his protection of the entire Justice League. If it came down to it.

He’d loved her.

But she’d chosen her father. Chosen a life as an assassin. Rejected him. And it was hard for him to forget that.

“I lied to you,” she said, pulling his attention back to the present, “I lied.”

She said it with such finality, Bruce narrowed his eyes. And just stared.

He was sure she’d lied about many things. Why was this the ‘reason?’ And why would lying be a reason to trust her now?

To give her a chance, now?

“About?” he pressed, ignoring the thought in the back of his head asking whether this was all a distraction so the League could move in on Gotham.

Alarms would be going off, if that were the case. Literal alarms, in the cave.

Besides, the League hadn’t been doing anything in the United States for many months.

They were too busy building up their forces in the Alps. Bruce still had no idea why, but they’d been beefing up their presence there for over a year and a half.

“You know about what,” Talia said, gently. Almost apologetically.

His heart fluttered, a little.

There was one thing. One thing, that had she been lying about, he’s not sure he’d be angry about.

Not right now, at least.

“Bruce,” she pled, “I- I’ve made a mistake.” Her voice cracked, and she rested a hand against the side of her face as she looked off to the side, away from her camera. “Father is so cruel to him, Bruce. I need your help.”

No.

Anger was definitely not the emotion he was feeling. It- it was down there. It was deep, deep down there, and later that night. Or, perhaps, in a few days, he knew he would hit a punching bag until his knuckles were bloody.

But on top? Right now?

On top was hope.

Hope, excitement, and… and utter devastation.

“Him?” Bruce whispered, resisting the urge to rip his mask off and rub at his face. He was on camera, he had to remind himself. He had no idea how many people were watching.

And this could all be one magnificent lie. A trick to get him off balance. So they could strike, while he had his guard down.

While he was yearning for something he’d thought he’d lost, two years prior.

“He’s beautiful, Bruce,” she whispered, her voice catching on the next sentence, “He looks just like you, and I can tell he gets his empathy from you. But,” she paused, a ferocious determination taking over her face. A trait of her’s that had caused Bruce to fall in the first place.

“Father will destroy him if we don’t get him away.”

There would be no ‘ifs.’

If Bruce had ever had a mission that had no option for failure, it was this one.

He didn’t care if Talia changed her mind, ten minutes later. This mission was happening, and he was bringing home what he thought he’d lost.

Bruce has no idea how he got through the following ten minutes, planning out with Talia exactly how and when the pickup would go. Nightwing, Robin and himself would all approach the compound in the batwing, in stealth mode. He’d pulled Clark in on the call, and Superman agreed he would be on standby, watching from afar for anything to go wrong.

If they were spotted, or if the League tried anything, the entire Justice League would respond, if necessary.

Clark promised he’d keep the mission itself classified. No one but the core team would know the details of what they were picking up. The core team being himself, the Flash, and the Bats.

His ears were ringing the entire time, and he felt like an outsider, looking in.

‘He looks just like you,’ Talia had said.

That’s all he could think about.

Bruce had a son.

There-

Was there anything more to say?

He had a son.

“Talia,” he rasped, just before she cut the call with him. After a deep breath, he looked deep into the camera, doing his best to convey his seriousness. His promise, should it be necessary. “If this is a trick.”

With sadness in her eyes, Talia smiled and said, “We will see you tomorrow, Beloved,” and with that, ended the call.

It came as no surprise when, not even a quarter of a second later, the papers on his desk flew up into the air. Each one wafting back down, before Bruce even had the chance to close his eyes and take a breath.

Bringing Clark in on this was necessary.

As much as he hated bringing personal missions to those outside the family, there was no way he could risk this one.

If Talia was telling the truth, and he wasn’t successful on his own. Wasn’t able to take on the entire League while protecting a helpless infant.

Well.

He’d never forgive himself.

Ever.

But none of that meant he had to be happy his best friend was there to witness this.

“Bruce, this is,” Clark started, setting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing, but Bruce cut him off.

“Clark, just,” he said, pulling his mask off so he could finally wipe his eyes. He wasn’t even mortified at the crack in his voice, because there was far too many other things swirling through his head. “Give me a minute.”

He had… so much to do. He hadn’t time for this.

And yet…

It was the only thing he could do.

Closing his eyes, Bruce took a second to recenter himself. Find his strength and embrace his duties. Right now, he needed to be Batman.

But before he was able to complete a single deep breath, he heard from the top of the stairs, “B?”

And everything just became much more complicated.

“Bruce?” Jason asked again, a little hesitantly, as he made his way down the stairs, “Superman? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bruce said, reeling it all in and trying his best to blink back the wetness in his eyes. So maybe he wouldn’t have to wipe his face in front of his son.

His… middle son.

Because, Bruce actually had three…

“Is Dick okay?” Jason asked a little more frantically, because despite his best efforts, Bruce sniffed.

“He’s fine,” Clark soothed, squeezing Bruce’s shoulder a little tighter as Jason hurried his way down the stairs, “Nothing is wrong, Jase.”

“Then why is…” Jason said, trailing off when he finally made it to where Bruce was sitting.

They had so much to do. Bruce hadn’t the time for this.

It was time for Batman.

“Suit up,” he told his son, shrugging Clark’s hand off and squaring his shoulders. They had just under three hours before take off, and there was so much to do. “We have a mission.”

- - -

By ‘a mission,’ Bruce meant they were infiltrating the freaking League of Assassins.

Like.

In the middle of the day. Completely randomly.

Well, they were set to leave in three hours, with a 5 hour flight time. And considering the time difference, it would actually be about 4am when they arrived at Nanda Parbat.

So.

Middle of the night, kind of.

Jason was both super excited, and kind of freaked out.

Especially when Bruce called in Dick.

Those two worked together, sure. Sometimes. But it was always so fucking tense, and Jason kind of hated it.

Bruce also always refused to call in Dick for anything. Dick always just kind of, forced himself in on the mission.

But for this?

Whatever the fuck this was?

It had Bruce calling in not only Dick Grayson, but Superman, too.

Because that’s why Superman had been there. He’d already called the guy in.

Whatever was going on, it was huge.

And whatever it was, Jason actually started feeling very nervous. Because Bruce said he had news to share. And he called Alfred down first, before he shared it.

Bruce paced. Back and forth, back and forth. In front of the conference table for two full minutes while the four of them sat there, waiting for him to fucking say something.

“Do you want me?” Clark asked, and was immediately shot down by a glare from Bruce.

Was Bruce dying?

Were they going to the League to steal some pit water??

Because he said he was okay.

Clark said he was okay, and Clark wouldn’t lie about something like that. Right? Jason wouldn’t put it past Bruce at all to be a freaking hypocrite and lie to him so not to make him worry, but not Clark.

He was way too much a boy scout.

Yet, there Bruce was. Pacing back and forth. Freaking out about something.

“B, you’re freaking the kid out,” Dick said, leaning back in his chair, like he was fucking relaxed during this.

Their freaking dad could be dying and he was chill about it.

No wonder his name was Dick.

“I am not,” he protested, but Bruce quit his pacing and sighed, anyway.

“Honestly, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, from where he sat next to Jason, “Whatever it is, I am confident we can handle it.”

“A couple years ago,” Bruce started, pausing to sigh again before he turned his back to them, but continued, “I got… involved… with Talia al Ghul.”

“Gross. I knew it,” Dick said, pulling a face for Jason to see.

“From the League of Assassins,” Jason said, just to clarify.

So… were they staging this mission so Bruce could go…

Ew.

Gross.

Disgusting.

Jason hated his mind for putting that picture in his head.

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed, apparently uncaring that he’d just put horrible awful pictures in Jason’s head.

He was thirteen. This was probably child abuse.

“It was serious,” he continued, “We had been… discussing marriage.”

“Oh my,” Alfred said, in as close to a gasp as Jason had ever heard from Alfred.

Jason didn’t blame him. Bruce had never really struck Jason as a ‘serious’ kinda guy.

Not with the ladies, at least.

Mostly because he had a different chick hanging off of him at every party.

“She had been with child,” Bruce finally said, nearly stumbling over his words as he spit the sentence out.

The air in the room seemed to still, and they all stared at Bruce.

Well, all of them, except Clark. Since apparently Clark already knew.

“Why… why,” Dick stammered, then stopped.

Jason didn’t really know what to ask first, either.

But apparently Bruce knew what to answer first.

“She told me she miscarried. She, she told me. I thought-“ with another sigh, Bruce turned back around, finally allowing them to see the exhaustion on his face, as he rubbed at it and sat down at the head of the table.

“I thought she’d miscarried. She dumped me, after that. Refused to leave her father and the League, and sent me home. I- I should have checked up on it. Verified her story, but… I was just so-”

Bruce put his face in his hands, and just sat there, for a very long minute.

Dick, to Jason’s surprise, was the one to break the silence, because neither he nor Alfred seemed to be able to find any words. Jason had never heard Bruce so close to tears, before.

He was kind of scared of getting Bruce to talk more.

And if Bruce was saying what he was saying, well…

Jason really had no words for it.

Batman apparently had a baby.

And they were going to rescue it from the League of Assassins.

That was just…

Wow.

Holy.

Shit.

“So,” Dick said, a small smile tugging on his lips as he did, “is it a boy or a girl?”

- - -

Everything was going smoothly.

They had agreed on a meet-up time eight hours from the end of their call, which meant Talia had most the night to figure out her plan for getting Damian out of his nursery.

In the end, she’d decided on using simple tranquilizer darts.

It was dirty, a completely dishonorable way to fight, but Talia couldn’t find it in herself to care.

The very last thing she needed was for one of the nursemaids to notice her break-in and alert the guards.

She’d packed her bag before heading to Damian’s room, so all she had left to do was grab him before Bruce arrived.

Sneaking into his room was painfully easy, and she only had to sedate one nursemaid, who had already been asleep, anyway.

Honestly. It couldn’t have been easier, and it was putting Talia on edge.

Damian stirred, when she lifted him from the crib, so Talia shoved the pacifier into his mouth she knew he’d been deprived of for eight months at that point.

He’d taken to sucking his thumb, in its stead, and Talia had always hated that about her father’s rules.

Why was it so difficult to indulge her son in one simple comfort.

The pacifier worked like a charm, and Damian latched onto it with one hand as he sucked away, curling into Talia’s hold as she wrapped the cloth around them both, creating a make-shift carrier.

Out of everything, the hardest part was getting him tied to her securely. Because with the pacifier, he was as quiet as a lamb, not making a single peep of protest. She wasn’t even sure if he’d woken enough to see who had been holding him.

After the day he’d had, Talia was grateful he could still find peace in his sleep.

Climbing up to the roofs was a little more difficult. Damian did whine, a little, when she had to press herself up against the wall of the third floor, to hide from a patrolling guard below.

She closed her eyes and held her breath, begging every deity she could think of to keep Damian silent as the guard paused and looked around. After adjusting her grip, so she could hold them both with one hand, she placed her newly free hand on his head and tried to soothe him.

Damian shifted against her, even though he was pinned rather tightly between her and the wall, then stilled. His little pacifier bobbing in and out as he grasped tightly to her blouse.

The guard looked around, up and down the narrow courtyard below where she was climbing, but after a long minute, turned around and continued on with his patrol.

Talia didn’t allow herself a sigh of relief.

With three more moves, Talia reached the edge of the roof and pulled herself up, without scraping Damian against the edge. He didn’t notice in his sleep.

Soon, he’d be able to pass all his nights in such peace.

His days, too.

She had no doubt in her mind that Bruce would offer them the sanctuary they needed, to allow Damian to grow up without fears.

But, if he didn’t, she’d find it anyway.

This child. Her child, would never know the pain he’d experienced that day again.

As silently as she’d been trained, Talia raced across the rooftops to the pickup location. Bruce was promised to be there in two minutes, and she needed to be three buildings over.

“Shh,” she whispered, hugging Damian tightly as she ran. The movement was, apparently, disrupting his sleep, and he’d started to stir, “sleep, my prince.”

“Mama,” he mumbled, snuggling against her.

“Yes,” she choked, preparing to make the last jump to the roof where Bruce was to meet them, “Mama is here, baby.”

She’d given Bruce the coordinates of the highest roof in the complex, in hopes that he could simply swoop in and grab them, not needing to stop or interact with anyone.

He was bringing his team, though. He was bringing Superman.

Talia had never had any sort of admiration for the alien. His technique was abysmal, tending to toss around his unearthly strength, rather than exhibit any skill during his fights.

But knowing that, if it came down to it, she could likely just shout ‘Superman,’ and in an instant he’d be there, ready and able to take Damian to safety… It helped keep her calm.

Father would not be expecting the help of a Kryptonian. Bruce had never been one to ask for help, so it was unlikely Father would have his kryptonite within reach.

The final jump was a little longer than comfortable, and Talia had to land in a roll to avoid injuring herself or falling off completely. She rolled on her back, using her arms to keep Damian from making contact with the roof at all.

Her heart was hammering when she finished the roll on her feet. She had thirty more yards to go, and she’d been at the exact coordinates she’d given Bruce.

Thirty more yards, and one more minute.

Talia shook, as she stood in the exact spot. Damian was fully awake now, and wriggling against the cloth wrapped around him.

“Be still, my dear,” she whispered, hugging him a little tighter as she searched the night sky for any sign of their rescue, “Just a few more moments.”

“Out,” Damian cried, not quite at a normal level, but much louder than Talia felt comfortable with, as he started struggling against her arms, “Down.”

“In a moment,” she whispered desperately. Her arms felt like rubber, as the adrenaline that had kept her running started to ebb.

It was a minute past pickup, and Batman was no where in sight.

If he didn’t show…

Damian whined out again, this time loudly.

“Be patient, my love,” she whispered, now fighting back tears, “Your father is coming for us.”

He had to be.

“Mama,” Damian cried, pulling his pacifier out of his mouth completely to whine at her more efficiently.

She looked around frantically, making sure no guards were near enough to have heard him.

When she didn’t see anyone coming at them, she bounced Damian some and tried to force the pacifier back into his mouth. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she repeated, over and over, really unsure, at this point, if it was for Damian or herself.

Because if Bruce weren’t coming, was any of his team?

Was she just standing on a roof, risking the life of her son for nothing?

Father would not take lightly an attempted defection.

What would he do to Damian?

Probably take him away from her forever. She’d never see him again. Never know the pain he was in. Never be able to hold him, after a hard day, and comfort him. Remind him of her love.

She’d lose him forever, and-

Talia’s knees nearly buckled when, without warning, a jet materialized out of nowhere not ten feet above her.

His technology was amazing. She hadn’t even felt it coming, much less heard it.

And before she even realized it, tears were streaming down her face.

A hatch opened, right on the underside of the jet, and Batman himself leaned out, reaching a hand down to her.

“Talia,” he breathed, shaking his hand, as if desperately begging her to grab it.

She’d never accepted an offered hand so fast in her life.

As he pulled her up into the jet, swiftly and effortlessly, as if it were nothing, Talia felt herself relax. All the adrenaline leave her body entirely as she collapsed right onto the ground of Bruce’s jet.

She didn’t even care who all was there to see.

Because for the first time in her life, Talia felt like she could breathe.

- - -

She hadn’t been lying.

That was the only thing circling through Bruce’s head as he pulled Talia up into the jet, them stopping barely long enough for him to do that before Dick was turning around and racing away.

As far as they could tell, they hadn’t been spotted until they turned off the craft’s cloaking system.

If all went to plan, the League would not be able to respond quickly enough to catch them. Nightwing was supposed to take them on an indirect route back to Gotham, completely in stealth mode.

Ra’s al Ghul could search the skies all night and never find them.

He hoped.

But all that was for Nightwing to worry about. That had been the plan. If Talia was telling the truth, he’d agreed, Bruce could focus on that, while Dick handled keeping them hidden and taking them to safety. Jason could give him backup, if necessary.

Bruce trusted Dick with his life.

And he was so thankful for that, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do much beyond what he was currently doing.

Which was watching as Talia collapsed onto the floor, clumsily freeing a baby from a carrier as she cried into his hair.

“Tal-“ he started, reaching an hand out to her, really unsure about what he was going to do. But he froze, when the baby squirmed and twisted out of the cloth holding him.

Because Talia was right.

He was beautiful.

His bright green eyes were mesmerizing, and Bruce felt his heart seize as the baby looked at him, ever so briefly.

It wasn’t until that very instant did Bruce realize his life had been incomplete.

There had been a piece of him missing, and he hadn’t even realized it.

The baby turned back to his mother and said, “Mama,” reaching up for her face.

“Yes,” Talia sobbed, grabbing his hand and holding it to her cheek, before she wrapped him up into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing him tight, “I’m so sorry.”

Bruce watched helplessly as Talia devolved further and further into incoherence, as she whispered her apologies and proclaimed her love for the very confused looking baby in her arms.

The baby didn’t protest, though. He leaned into her hug and stayed there, like he understood his mother needed a hug back.

How old was he?

If he’d been born on time, by Bruce’s estimations, he’d be about…

Seventeen months old?

Eighteen?

He didn’t know much about baby development, but he did know that it was during the first year they turned from basically babies to tiny, outspoken little people.

How developed was his son? How much had Bruce missed?

Bruce knelt down in front of Talia and sat there, waiting for her to recover.

What she had been through, he had no idea.

It had to have been a lot, for her to reach out and actually ask for help.

She was stubborn, like that. Never asking for help. Never even expecting it.

And her reaction to being pulled into safety, well.

He was afraid to learn what she’d been through.

Jason caught his eye, lingering just on the outskirts of his vision. He looked up and tried to offer a reassuring face, but probably fell flat, because Jason frowned at him. But Jason held a thumbs up at him, both letting him know they’d flown into the clear and Superman had been informed of the successful mission, and asking if Bruce was good.

With a single nod, Bruce thanked him, and turned his attention back to Talia.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking at him, now, but still hugging the baby tightly to her.

“What happened?” he asked, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the baby.

Touch his son.

Bruce had never been one to want to hold babies, usually perfectly content to just observe them, but his arms yearned for the weight of this baby in his arms.

He didn’t even know his name.

“Father,” she said, her voice almost squeaking with the effort.

Bruce hadn’t seen her in two years, and he still wanted to pull her to his side.

Never had he seen her like this.

But he kept his distance. Let her recover on her own. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her, in that moment.

At all.

“Father,” she said again, this time much more confidently, one hand absently combing through the baby’s hair.

The beautiful baby who had twisted in her hold, just enough, to stare at him.

“Started his training.” There was so much pain in her voice, Bruce could only imagine what kind of horrors that meant.

Who trained a baby?

“Bruce,” she choked out, squeezing the baby again, “it was so bad. I- I just stood there and watched. I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything else. He would have harmed him more. Or taken him from me.”

“What happened,” he repeated, trying to keep his voice as gentle as possible.

Any anger he had about whatever ‘training’ implied was being pushed down. Buried deep into the recesses of his brain.

No one needed his anger right now.

When the baby continued to stare at him, Bruce realized he still had his cowl on.

What kind of introduction was this? Being presented to his son as Batman, first.

Hopefully he hadn’t scared the kid too much to want to be held.

Talia started crying again, and shifted so she was sitting criss-cross, the baby still cradled in her arms as she blubbered out, “They hit him so many times, Bruce. I’m so sorry,” and before Bruce could even respond. Could even think of how to respond, she turned her face down to the baby and repeated, “I’m so sorry, Damian. I’m so sorry, my love. I’ll never let- I’ll never-”

But she didn’t complete the sentence, because she’d lost it again, and the baby… Damian?

Damian.

That was the most beautiful name he’d ever heard.

Damian looked very confused and concerned for his mother’s mood.

“He’s safe now,” Bruce tried, scooting over to her side to set a hand on her back, “He’s safe.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, curling further onto Damian.

“Mama,” Damian said again, this time pointing at Bruce when Talia opened her eyes and gave him her attention.

“Yes,” she said, smiling for the first time as she wiped her tears away, “Yes, dear. This is-“ she paused, looking up at Bruce, then said again, “This is Daddy.”

Bruce could cry.

He was not going to cry.

“Do you want to hold him?” Talia asked, apparently seeing the intense desire plastered all over his face.

All Bruce wanted to do was hold him. There was nothing on earth he wanted more.

“May I?” he asked, almost afraid to even try.

What if Damian didn’t like him?

What if he started crying, when Bruce took him?

“He’s your son, Bruce,” Talia said, lifting Damian from her lap and offering him over.

After hesitating for only a second, Bruce reached out and held his hands out to Damian, who looked at him appraisingly, like he were judging Bruce and determining if he was worth his attention.

But then, before Bruce could even hold his breath, Damian leaned toward him, and Bruce could definitely cry.

Because then Damian was in his arms, looking straight into his eyes as he let Bruce hold him close.

And-

And.

Bruce had no thoughts.

“Hi, Damian,” he choked out, trying his hardest not to cry, “I’m- I’m your-“ but he couldn’t get the word out.

Couldn’t get anything else out.

Damian didn’t seem to care, because he smiled at Bruce and said, “Hi,” back.

And Bruce was definitely crying, now.

Just a little.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because he had the son he thought he’d lost two years ago cradled in his arms, and nothing could ruin the moment.

- - -

Jason was thankful that the jet was large enough he didn’t have to hear Bruce talking to his new baby son.

He honestly had no idea how to feel about all of this.

Bruce had apparently done it with the daughter of one of their most dangerous villains, and he was now probably definitely crying tears of joy while he held the son of said villainous daughter.

But Jason wasn’t jealous.

How could he be?

The baby was just a baby. It’s not like the posed any sort of threat to Jason.

Except.

By… stealing away Bruce’s attention.

Jason was not being jealous of a baby. The baby deserved his dad’s attention. Especially since he had a dad as great as Bruce. Jason would know. He’d been playing the role of dad for him for a year.

Now, though… now he had a real son.

He was not jealous.

“Stop worrying,” Dick said, from where he was flying the jet, sitting in the seat next to Jason.

Jason had taken the spot of co-pilot just because it was the farthest away from Bruce he could be. He wasn’t really helping Nightwing fly.

Mostly because Nightwing didn’t need help flying. He actually had the auto-pilot engaged.

“I’m not worrying.”

“You’re right,” Dick said, laughing a little as he leaned back in his chair, “You’re freaking out.”

Crossing his arms, Jason tried his best to look completely and totally unaffected by everything ever as he said, “Am not.”

Apparently he was unconvincing, because Dick gave him a shit eating grin and ruffled his hair.

Like the asshole he was.

“You’re right. You’re the epitome of calm and collected.”

“Fuck you,” Jason snapped. Dick should mind his own fucking business.

They still weren’t, like, friends or anything, either. Dick had been clear about how happy he was Jason existed. Sure, they’d kind of made up some in recent months. And Dick even offered his blessing for Jason to be Robin, but that didn’t mean they were friends.

Apparently Dick didn’t agree, because he kept being an asshole and talking to him by saying, “Look, this isn’t going to change anything between you and Bruce, okay?”

Through a pout, Jason mumbled, “How would you know?” Bruce getting a son was going to change everything.

“Because this happened to me, remember?”

Jason rolled his eyes. Just because Bruce adopted him didn’t mean Dick knew what it was like to have his adopted dad get a biological child and not need him anymore. If anything, Dick should be freaking out, too, because they were both the adopted kids and the baby was the real son.

Except Dick didn’t live with them, so he wasn’t at risk of being homeless again if Bruce kicked him out. Since, well, Bruce couldn’t kick him out.

Maybe Dick should fuck off and leave him alone.

“Did Bruce adopting you change how he felt about me?” Dick asked, nudging Jason’s arm as he did.

Asshole.

“Fuck you, it’s different,” he snapped. In fact, they all knew Dick was the favorite child between the two of them, so it was completely and totally different.

Maybe Dick should be worrying more. He wasn’t going to be the favorite anymore.

Bruce was so happy about having a biological son he was crying about it.

Bruce had never been that happy about Jason.

“Not really,” Dick said, sighing some, “I thought he was writing me off completely when he adopted you.”

“Bruce never shuts up about you, it’s always ‘Dick this’ and ‘Dick that’ whenever I do anything, so shut up. But we’re both adopted, and that baby over there ain’t.”

Dick cocked a head at him and then let out a huff of a laugh. “Bruce never even told you. Wow.”

“Told me what?” Jason demanded, crossing his arms harder, because he didn’t want to storm off. Mostly because that would mean facing Bruce with his stupid new baby.

“I knew he was terrible with communication, but geez.”

“What, Dickface, just tell me.”

“Jase,” Dick said, offering a softer smile than before, “I’m not adopted. Bruce never adopted me. He was simply my ‘guardian’ until I aged out of the system. He has no legal obligation to me at all, now.”

“He-“ Jason started, because there was no way that was true.

No. Fucking. Way.

Bruce cared about Dick way too much for that to be true.

And why would Bruce adopt him, but not Dick? That also made no sense.

Dick was the favorite.

“You’re lying. He calls you his son all the time.”

“I know,” Dick said softly, still smiling like an asshole, “Because even if he’s never said it, and probably never will say it, he loves me. Just like he loves you.”

“Shut up,” he said, because he couldn’t figure out anything else to say. Obviously he knew Bruce, like, loved him and shit. But they didn’t have to talk about it.

But… Dick was kind of right about one point. He was adopted.

It’s not like Bruce could go back on that.

So kicked out probably wasn’t on the table.

“I promise, Jason, this isn’t going to change anything between you two. So don’t worry too much.”

Jason was stuck trying to come up with something to respond with that was more witty than 'fuck you' when he was startled by Bruce’s footsteps approaching the cockpit.

If Bruce saw him pouting, there was no doubt he’d be able to read Jason as easily as Dick Fucking Grayson had read him, and that would not be good.

He wasn’t ready for that.

“Jason,” Bruce said, sounding like he was smiling wider than Jason had ever seen him smile.

Except.

Maybe.

On his adoption day. When Bruce hugged him and said ,“Welcome to the family, Jaylad,” with his stupid dopey smile…

And… and…

“Dick,” Bruce continued, now inside the cockpit, with the little baby in his arms, “I want you boys to meet your little brother, Damian.”

And maybe…

Maybe Dick was right.

Jason had nothing to worry about.

He’d always wanted a little brother, too.

[jadelotusflower]

Robin Hood Rewatch: 1x13 A Clue: No

“Previously on” recaps can be annoying, but there is an art to it and I love a good one. This is a very, very good one, summarising the last episode with ramping tension as the music builds, then cuts to a different take of the last scene as the theme song starts, and we’re into the opening credits.

This is a long one, so it’s going under the cut:

Guy estimates that the “inner circle” of Robin’s gang is “a dozen at the most” and I find it very funny that neither he nor Vaisey have twigged that it’s always the same five people around him. What’s more annoying than funny is that they don’t know how many are in the “outer circle” because that really should have been A Thing in the show (Forrest and Hanton should have come back to guest star! I will never let this go!) After all, we see Little John with more men in the first episode, there are other outlaws in the forest/across the shire that are either working with Robin, or pose a risk to them, and I wish this had been explored.

Djaq manhandling and holding her sword to Pitts’s throat - I love Djaq.

The first arrow Robin shoots is intended for Vaisey, but one of the guards inconveniently walks in front and gets it in the chest. The second arrow is intended for Vaisey as well but he ducks (”my tooth!”) so we can’t fault the writing for a credible attempt at Why Doesn’t Robin Just Kill The Sheriff, because in this scene at least, he tries.

Bye Pitts. You certainly were.

I actually really love this scene (which probably seemed odd given the high body count), but Robin drawing his sword and charging, with Much, Djaq, and John backing him up to avenge Marian’s apparent death/make a final stand, as the music shifts from the jaunty Rescue Theme to Marian’s Theme, just gets me every time.

Although thanks to the cast commentary, I can’t unsee Djaq flipping that guy over her head twice, but hey, it’s a badass move. Clearly they didn’t shoot enough coverage of this fight, because we get the same action from several different angles.

Other than the flashback in episode 8, I think this is the only time we see Robin in Crusader mode, and just how lethal he (and the gang) can be when unleashed and with nothing to lose. Even when the enemy retreats Robin remains kind of wild-eyed with rage unsated, and it takes a beat for him to snap out of it. It’s symbolism time - he sticks his sword in the ground and leaves it there, and we don’t see it again this episode (or much in season 2).

There’s some nice acting going on from everyone in this scene - just utter exhaustion, Allan and Will oblivious to why the rest are so distraught, Much taking it upon himself to tell them but can’t say the words, and Robin with the finality of “she’s dead.” Their faces!

Djaq is still holding two swords as she enters the cave, which is a nice character beat - no doubt the fight also brought back unpleasant memories/triggers for her, and she remains on edge, for the moment unwilling to give up her defences even when the threat is gone.

I really love this scene too (the gang mourning Marian) and I think it’s quite deftly written - Djaq’s immediate reaction being the importance of a quick burial (as per Islamic tradition), Robin trying to keep it together, attempting to ask John/Will to build a coffin but unable to, so deflecting to ask Djaq to prepare Marian’s body, before trying twice again; John soothing him and taking charge. Will’s single tear and speaking of Marian’s goodness. Much responding with “Good? Oh, she was... She was...” looking to Robin because of course his thoughts are for Robin’s grief before his own, and also that his own relationship with Marian was complex. Allan: “She was alright...yeah” that says so much, and of course John’s “Her, we liked.” Again, some fine acting, kudos everyone.

“I loved her and I never told her” is ironic because Robin still won’t tell her until halfway through the next season, and if he had in the aftermath of her apparent death he could have spared himself a lot of the angst of the rest of the episode. But of course he doesn’t tell her, doesn’t learn from this moment, because emotions are hard, and sometimes we make the same mistakes over and over again.

I really love that it’s Allan that notices that Marian is alive, and his little “told ya” flourish.

Score note: while Marian is “dead” her Theme is strings, when she opens her eyes, it’s back to the guitar.

Guy’s guilt in finding out his impending marriage to Marian is based on false pretenses - would he still have forced the marriage if he’d known that from the start?

Djaq still has her two swords as they take Marian back to Knighton.

Guy, if your first instinct when told Marian is not at home is that she’s run away rather than marry you...maybe take a hint? “She cannot run from me” is a big yikes, and this confuses me as to Guy’s motivation in this scene. Did he intend to tell Marian the truth, but then convince himself otherwise (because “the excitement of the wedding” =/= “the wedding excites her”), but then why so angry when he thinks shes run? The difference between getting someone go/being left, I suppose.

Illness is a perfectly plausible explanation for delaying the wedding that no one seems to think of.

Edward is actually pretty bang on in this scene with Robin from a father’s perspective, telling him to let Marian go if he cannot stop it, and do the right thing. On the other hand...

“I am sick of doing the right thing” is why Robin is such a compelling character for me - because it is hard to always be good, to be held to that higher standard, and make the unselfish choice. I enjoy narratives that explore that, and this show is surprisingly unflinching about it, exemplified by:

The next scene, which is one of the most emotionally brutal/hard to watch of the entire show, in which Robin lashes out and does everything to drive Much away, including calling him “a pox”  and a “small man” until Much’s heart visibly breaks.

Now I don’t want to excuse Robin here, because he is objectively awful to someone who doesn’t deserve it, who is trying to give him support but also telling him some much needed hard truths (even if it is slightly self-serving, which is what what seems to set Robin off). But at the end of the day, if he loves Marian he needs to accept that it is her choice to marry Guy, to “do the right thing” to (she thinks) protect her father - and later of he does just that. For now Edward and Much are both right, it is more important for him to try and protect the king from Vaisey, because if he is ousted and Richard back on the throne so many lives would be improved, including the people of Locksley. But Robin has been pushed to breaking point all season, and has now snapped and can’t see reason, but is stuck in his own grief/rage.

But unlike previously, when Robin said regrettable things in the heat of the moment and then immediately took them back, this is a calculated attack designed to hurt Much the most, because he loves Robin so much that it takes A Lot to push him away. It’s a bold move to make your hero so unlikable in such a moment, because Robin really is unforgivably cruel here, and trust the audience to understand why. I mean, I don’t want to bang on about the PTSD, but it’s (partly) the PTSD, based on a triggering, precipitating event causing a self-destructive spiral. Robin needs some Ye Olde Therapy.  

For all the talk about Robin getting his title and lands back, nothing is said about what happens to Gisborne once he does, other than that they can’t prove he was the one who tried to assassinate Richard. Because really, Richard probably would believe Robin even though the tattoo was burned away, and Guy’s certainly committed other crimes that could be testified to just like they’re intending for Vaisey - and let’s be real, it’s not like a king needs evidence to order someone’s death (hello, season 2 finale). Boom - Guy executed, marriage to Marian annulled, problem solved!

So, the scene between Marian and Guy, in which Marian is more concerned with whether or not Guy tried to kill the king than the fact that he stabbed her. But its understandable, because Marian thinks there’s no way out that doesn’t risk her father’s life, and it’s easier to convince herself that maybe Guy didn’t do it to make the best of things. I think she does have some kind of feelings for him, or is at least moved by his feelings for her, and believes if nothing else she can influence him/continue working from the inside; giving up the mantle of the Nightwatchman but doing the same work (in a different way) as Lady Gisborne.

And then it’s Robin/Marian angst, round 3, and it’s a far cry from their interaction in the cave milliseconds away from “I love yous” - in both tone and body language they’re back in defensive positions talking past one another. The tension, it be thick.

Marian is making her best rationalisation with “deprived of love” and Robin not at all buying the Woobification 101. Once she tells him her decision to marry Guy, he accepts it, but it’s Marian’s reaction that’s telling, she’s surprised that he doesn’t argue, deep down she wants him to fight for her, to say that the real reason she shouldn’t marry Guy is because he loves her. It’s quite a contrast from the previous scene where Guy was very open about how he feels about her, while Robin deflects, but while she was conflicted about Guy trying to kiss her, she’s frustrated, disappointed, and angry when Robin leaves.

But really, this is rather unfair of Marian, because Robin did already declare himself in the cave (”we should be together”) without her reciprocation, so expecting him to take the first step again without any encouragement is a bit much.

Would a depressed person sit slumped against a tree all night?

“But by taking Marian in holy wedlock, I will wash away those crimes. Her pure heart will cleanse mine.” Yeah...not going to touch that one. I appreciate that there’s a lot going on with Guy and many, many people find it compelling, but I’m afraid it’s not really a narrative that interests me.

Speaking of pure hearts: Much. Faced with the same choice he was counseling Robin on, but with the additional wrinkle of knowing the king’s an imposter, he still decides to stop the wedding. “Her heart belongs to another” is A Moment and I don’t know exactly why but I find his very soft pleas following this and calling her “my lady” very affecting. 

She’s beauty and she’s grace, she punched Guy in the face.

“A trap. I knew it.” I haaaaate this line. NO YOU DIDN’T KNOW IT ROBIN YOU KNEW NOTHING OF THE KIND IF YOU HAD KNOWN YOU WOULD BE EVEN MORE OF A DICK FOR LEAVING UGGGHHHH.

“We can’t be seen together” Right in front of my salad two guards on front gate duty, who get front row tickets to the kiss. Look at them! They’re right there! This show drives me absolutely bonkers sometimes.

I do love this dress though.

“An audience with the king has been suspended!” Going out on one last pun.

Regardless, I really love this episode. Despite the lack of fallout from the emotional wringer they all went through, I can’t help but smile when the gang does their silly little jump for joy at the end.

[victorie552onepiecespeedrun]

Reading One Piece pt 247: Oda Makes Fun Of Me :(

Chapter 494

Thoughts:

- Fpos/cs: CP9, now complete, is hunted by the WG! Oh, how the turns have tabled. And apparently it’s Spandam’s fault too if his laughing face in a cloud in the corner is any indication (It’s nice to see Spandam again even if he is horrible traitor. I would say this is sad but that’s exactly what I expected from his, so)

- ZORO!!??? D:!!? My man!? D:!!?

- Brook can run on water if you don’t remember :D Skeleton Jesus :D

- And he’s with Zoro

- “Good job, Brook. You took down a lot of those flying fish” “I need to be useful!” Veteran/newbie talk :) What is super funny when you remember Brook’s 88 and Zoro’s 19 :D

- “Zoro-san… You’re still injured” so he noticed! I’m glad someone did

- Hachi’s helping

- OH WOW

- What a nice whatever that is!

- Haha! :D

- Zoro is obviously my favorite Straw Hat forever but second place is very much still open. Brook just got a lot of points with that attack. Damn, I like swords

- (I didn’t say that before but a sword in a cane? Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, showstopping, spectacular, never the same…)

- Now Duval (presumably) is telling Fish Gang to attack the ship itself

- NAMI NAMI NAMI

- She fooled fish gang with her mirages

- Robin’s turn  

- And Chopper and Franky are amazing too :D everyone gets a moment in the spotlight

- Luffy’s here?

- Why he’s running?

- Why he’s running AWAY!?

- “It’s that mask guy! And a cow!” ???

- Duval’s on a bison

- He has a villain moment and wants to destroy the Straw Hat crew

- “I didn’t enter the human trade business because I liked it!” yet you did it anyway. I’m keeping my levels of sympathy very low

- “This glorious day, today is…! That man who I’ve wanted to kill and kill, that man who I’ve even seen in dreams is…! Right before my eyes! Thank you! There really is a god, huh!” this is very intense? He sees them in dreams? He believes in god now? WHICH STRAW HAT PRESUMABLY HURT YOU DUVAL

- (I was thinking Luffy or Brook but I realized Robin is in the running too, she messed with a lot of people in her fugitive years)

- OH SHIT!?

- What on Earth did Sanji do??? He’s a kind and sensitive boy (with a foul mount) and he wouldn’t hurt anyone without a good reason????

- Wait, did Duval attack Zeff in the past or what

- How about I keep reading and find out, I got too excited

- Why the heck does anyone care about Duval’s accent

- Now Straw Hats ask who that Duval guy is and Sanji just can’t figure that out, lol boy is so confused :D

- “I made a lot of people get grudges against me” I somehow doubt you made someone else declare you their archnemesis, Sanji. Duval probably sleeps with your picture on the pillow

- (yeah, I’m absolutely expecting fanart out of this, It tingled all my fandom senses)

- “This is something recent!” Duval, you’re not helping

- Usopp agrees with me

- Harpoons

- “Those are Scorpion Poison Harpoons! If they get you, you’ll be heading to the next world within three minutes” how about nobody gets hit with that

- “Who the hell are you!” yeah, Sanji doesn’t remember

- Luffy saw Duval’s face and will take his mask off now. THANK YOU LUFFY

- Well???

- WELL????????

- (Sanji is clearly distraught. Everyone presumably shocked of Duval’s face)

- Sanji’s wanted poster?

- Wait.

- Wait a minute.

- JESUS CHRIST

- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT FACE

- That’s the reveal!???

Goddammit. Will the rest of the arc be like this

rOP 246  rOP 248