#and the robins would still agree and not blame bruce if they knew

[frownyalfred]

thinking about how Gotham and Bruce/Batman are cursed and how slowly, over time, by bringing each sequential Robin into his care/mission he's inadvertently cursing them as well and how it would ruin Bruce if he ever knew

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a vent fic wip that I may or may not finish so I just need to tell someone that I am...feeling so many things all the time about the consequences of the 16th birthday but...

primarily, right now, at this moment. without Robin/Bruce, Tim thought he would lose Dick and everyone else he knew through Robin. and then a little bit later when he quit for Jack, he got radio silence for Months until he became a potential victim, and even then it was just Cass stopping in to give the message and be like "I'll watch you to keep you safe 👁️👁️ ok bye" and he had actual Proof that without Robin, he would lose everyone.

and then. Dick "you're my equal (even tho I'm drastically changing your life without your knowledge or permission), you're my closest ally (even tho you don't even have a name to go out in the field to assist me as backup), I need you (even tho, as mentioned, I made a huge decision without your input because I didn't need it because I know best actually)" Grayson.

skipping over the fact that Dick didn't even have the time to say "you're fired" or anything resembling that, when Tim lost "Robin" to Damian, he felt like he lost everything else too. it didn't matter what Dick said about "equals" or "allies" or "needing". he already had Concrete Proof that it was all false. cheap words that are easily disproven do nothing in this situation, Dichard!

(disclaimer: I love and respect Dick Grayson, I just also think Dick Stopped Existing as soon as he made Damian his Robin for the most pathetic stupid illogical risky-ass excuse he could ever give for making anyone Robin (or a vigilante in general). "because he'll kill someone again". who the fuck says that?? who thinks "oh no oh god oh fuck this kid is gonna go off the rails he's gonna kill someone, I need to Put Him In A Place Of Power Over Oblivious Innocent Untrained People Who Are Expecting A Kind And Empathetic Hero To Save Them" hUH???? ok sorry, I just wanted to rant about what Tim "losing Robin" meant)

I agree with ya. Dick Grayson is fantastic, but it seems weird that he nuked his entire relationship with Tim (a very strong one that other fans have referred to them as "The Brothers") for the new kid.

Yes, Damian is a ten year old traumatized kid who just lost the dad he didn't really have the chance to get to know. Yes, Damian needed guidance, boundaries, and compassion.

But DC spent so much time and effort building up Tim and Dick's rapport only to obliterate it once the "blood son" came in (I also love Damian. This is not hate on the kid. This is confused commentary on DC's choices). It's just a strange idea, but that's also why it hurts so much when Dick does that to Tim.

Then you tie in Tim losing Robin by Dick to Tim's experiences before? Fuck. You are so right for that.

As far as the RR run, Dick could've handled Tim believing Bruce a bit better. I don't necessarily blame him for that one. I get why he wasn't supportive in the way Tim wanted, even though I would've chosen differently for my siblings.

Dick taking Robin, though? That was fucked up. I, honest to the gods, do not see how that was a justified course of action. I can understand his perspective, but it's still not okay. At all.

There's your very adequate analysis:

Robin, for Tim, is his tie to his loved ones. He has proof (twice) that without it, he does not have access to the people he cares about and his support system.

Dick said a lot of pretty words about "equals," but his actions were precisely contradictory to his "intentions."

Tim has had Robin taken from him before or had to give it up. He chose to go back despite this. He obviously feels strongly about being Robin

Damian has not proven, at this point, to be trustworthy as a vigilante (someone in power without oversight). He has instead shown use of excessive force

This isn't even going into the way he found out. That's just an extra layer.

The way Tim has repeated lost and regained Robin (even after RR) as well as his title as Red ROBIN are, to me, a sign that he's still trying to hold on. It's my belief that he would have moved onto a new title, like his predecessors, if it hadn't constantly been an unsure role.

His start was rocky as hell due to Bruce not initially wanting it. Tim had to prove himself and put himself into the costume.

He "quit" twice before it was taken from him in a traumatic way (nothing like being instilled with the fear that the position you've held for four years can suddenly be yanked out from under you without warning)

Damian and Jason both vehemently protested to him being Robin

It would make sense if all of these factors combined to Tim's unwillingness or inability to just let Robin go, especially when we factor in his reason to be Robin. Since Bruce never really gets "better" and continually falls back into bad habits, Tim needs to maintain his task of pulling Bruce back from the edge. We could also throw Jean Paul into this to further how Tim is forced to play as the barrier between a grown adult and their desire to harm others in the name of good.

So, Tim's time as Robin is marked by consistent instability while contrasted with his inherent position as Bruce's leash and the batfam fixer. While the other Robins did have times of doubt, the predecessors of Tim did not have the pervasive role insecurity with regards to Robin.

They had their big moment at the end and some smaller moments in-between, but not quite on the continous scale of Tim. Tim had three big moments and was still sucked back into Robin when Damian quit.

To be Robin is to earn Bruce's love and the ability to be part of the Wayne family. To lose Robin is the risk of losing that (at least to the perspectives of the Robins if not 100% the reality).

I'm not sure I'm articulating this accurately. Regardless, no wonder Tim clutches the title of Robin with bleeding hands no matter how much it cuts him and costs him.

[klbwriting]

Not Romeo and Not Juliet

Chapter 1: Mingle Yarn

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: fighting, mentions of broken bones and blood

Summary: Jason Todd was alive again. Not only that, but he was back in high school, living with Dick Grayson, and just trying to get by without anyone noticing him. That doesn't go as planned.

Notes: Here it is! Dueling prep schools! Enemies to Lovers! Theater Nerds! Shakespeare! A true rom-com! Jason as a senior and a theater kid! I'm messing with the canon immensely so let's just call this an AU or Elseworlds story where Jason was killed in a similar way to Under the Red Hood movie, but instead of the LoA going and getting him Dick has the falling out with Bruce over Jason's death and he goes to resurrect him without Bruce knowing. He takes Jason to live with him in Bludhaven and enrolls him in Bludhaven Prep so that he can readjust to living and to leaving Robin behind. I hope you enjoy!

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together

— ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, ACT 4 SCENE 3

               “Jason, you have to get going or you’re going to be late,” Dick Grayson called through the apartment.  He knew Jason wasn’t exactly excited to start his senior year of high school and he couldn’t blame him if he was being honest.  Just a month ago Jason had been murdered by a clown and just a week ago he had been revived in a pit of green goo protected by assassins.  They had only agreed to let Dick revive him because they were the reason Jason was even killed in the first place, so it was honestly the least they could do.  Dick was still coming to terms with who came out of the pit, not Jason but not not Jason either.  While pre-Lazarus Pit Jason had been happy, funny, and kind of scrawny, this Jason was moody, stoic, and big.  He wasn’t sure how the 17-year-old had gone from around skinny 5’8 to a jacked 6’1 during a bath but it was what it was.  Now he was staying in Dick’s Penthouse in Bludhaven, Bruce had no idea he was alive, and he was starting his senior year at Bludhaven Prep and Dick was hoping getting him back out there with kids his own age would help him readjust to living again.  The therapist that Dick hired, the one Clark Kent recommended, had given approval for him to return, saying he was mentally able to be around others, but considering no one knew how the pit might affect him they would still be watching him closely.  Dick stood very still in the dining room, waiting until he heard feet stomping down the stairs from the loft area that Jason had taken as his room. 

               “I’m here, I’m here,” he grumbled, sitting down in front of the plate of eggs and bacon that Dick had made for him.  Jason took two bites and made a face.  “I am making breakfast from now on, this tastes like shit.”  Dick rolled his eyes as he watched Jason clean his plate of the ‘shit’.  “Why am I going to school again anyway?  Bruce pulled me out to be homeschooled when I was freshman.”

               “Ya Bruce also had you running around in tights and you’re not doing that anymore either.  At least not until we know that no side effects from the pit are going to cause problems,” Dick said, putting a bookbag on the chair next to Jason.  Jason glanced at the bag and then at Dick.  Dick was once again struck by how different Jason was, yet he could still see the kid Jason was in those eyes.  They weren’t same, they could never settle on what color they wanted to be, blue like before, green like the pit, even brown sometimes, a muddied version of the two.  But the vulnerability was there, even though Jason was desperately trying to hide it. 

               “Fine, I see your point,” Jason muttered, grabbing the backpack before heading to the bookshelf.  He grunted.  “You need better books, honestly, some actual literature would be nice.”  He gave up on finding something, grabbed his phone and took off towards Bludhaven Prep. 

               The car ride over was nice, then the rest of the day started.  Jason knew he was weird, new kid as a senior, eyes that didn’t know what they were, and that black hair with the one tuft of white streaking across the front.  He would be as rich as his big brother if he had a dollar for every time someone asked him about that during the first class alone.  By the time the day was over he was so tightly wound he wanted to bust.  It didn’t help that some football player had decided that Jason was going to be his target for the year.  It started with an ‘accidental’ tray drop at lunch that left yogurt and milk across his new sneakers.  Then in study hall a football to the back of the head.  Finally, what really broke Jason, was the walk from the front of the school to the back where the cars were lined up.  Jason was straggling, hoping that the jock would have gone first, and he might have peace, but no.  He started walking around the side of the school, no one around at first, when from the back came the jock and two friends.  The guy was cracking his knuckles like he was some gangster in a movie.  Jason rolled his eyes and dropped his bag, knowing where this was going. 

               “You seem to think you can just come in and take over my school,” the jock said.  Jason let out an annoyed breath.  He hadn’t spoken to a single person that, hadn’t raised his hand once, he had barely listened, why did the fact that he was an inch taller than this guy make the jock so insecure?  He didn’t want to deal with it.

               “Can you just try and hit me, and we can get this over with?” Jason asked.  The jock’s friends let out snorts of laughter and that seemed to enrage their leader, who threw a wild punch that Jason dodged easily and then Jason threw a jab right at the guy’s face.  He did forget that he was bigger now, stronger than before.  He was surprised by the blood, but the ear shattering crack of bone and the shriek that the guy let out did surprise him.  Jason took off, running around the back of the school and jumping into the car to get home.  Great, first day and he had probably just broken that guy’s eye socket.  He was getting expelled.  At least he wouldn’t have to wear the student uniform anymore. 

               By the time he got back Dick was already on the phone with the headmaster.  Dick pointed at the couch and Jason sat, not wanting to but he knew it was pointless to argue.  Dick had literally brought him back to life, he could sit there and take his punishment without argument.  He had just shattered a guy’s face; he probably deserved the tongue lashing.

               “-I understand but you have to remember that there were no cameras, no actual witnesses other than this Mr. Harrison’s friends, it seems like a he said, he said situation which will not make anyone on the school board happy.  Especially when I pull my funding for the new football stadium,” he said.  Jason rolled his eyes.  Dick had definitely graduated from the Bruce Wayne school for getting out of shit.  “Of course, I am glad that we could work this out.  And of course, any injuries will be taken care of, but no mention of who the fight was with?  Thank you so much for your discretion.”  Dick hung up and rounded on Jason.  “Care to explain?”

               “Some football asshole decided I was too tall for him,” Jason said.  Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember why he had decided to take in a teenager.  “Did you have to break his orbital bone?”

               “I forgot about my biceps being the size of my head,” he mumbled.  Dick actually chuckled at that.  “He threw the first punch…”

               “You look uninjured…”

               “You think I would let an idiot like that hit me?” Jason looked shocked.  Dick sighed and looked at his watch.  Then at his phone clock, like it would be much different.

               “I am going to be late for my date with Barbara, stay here tonight, get your homework done, there’s food in the fridge and tomorrow we can talk about this more,” Dick said, buttoning his suit jacket and grabbing his wallet.  Jason just nodded, pulling out a book that he had gotten at the school library.  That at least had more options than Dick’s place.  Dick took one more glance at Jason before leaving. 

               Around 9PM Jason was starting to climb the walls.  He had this nervous energy and he didn’t know how to relieve it.  He tried to think of something.  Parkour?  No, he was angry.  Video arcade?  No, not enough movement.  Then he remembered the underground fights that he and Batman had once raised over in his old neighborhood, Crime Alley.  He figured the fights were probably back by now, they wouldn’t be down for long.  He knew he couldn’t show his face, Dick didn’t need the stress of him being caught in Gotham, or God forbid Bruce finding him, so headed down to the garage that Dick kept on site.  He started searching the sports equipment that he had, grabbing an old school goalie’s mask.  Very Friday the 13th, and hey, his name was Jason.  But the white, no, that wasn’t his color.  He looked around, finding some spray paint in another section and he painted the mask red.  Nice.  He grabbed an old black hoodie, shoved the mask inside the pocket and taking one of Dick’s bikes. 

               It took him about ten minutes to remember how to drive a motorcycle, apparently death didn’t keep memories of driving in his brain.  He almost wiped out five or six times before finally crossing over into Robbinsville and then up into Crime Alley.  He stowed the bike behind a dumpster near a Big Belly Burger before heading into a laundromat.  He walked to the counter that was helmed by a short woman with dyed blonde hair.

               “I’ve come for some good smelling socks,” he said.  He hoped these types didn’t get change their code phrases, it was the only one he remembered.  The woman nodded and pressed a button, motioning to the side door that said ‘Employees Only’.  Jason went through the door and down the stairs, donning his mask.  The guy waiting at the bottom looked him over.

               “50$ to watch, 100$ to fight,” he said.  Jason nodded and turned over his 100$ and the guy pointed him to another woman with a clipboard.  Jason headed over to her.

               “Name?” she asked.  Jason scrambled.  “Name?” she repeated, louder and more annoyed.  The other fights nearby were starting to watch him.  They weren’t too much bigger than him, he might have a good chance.  Either way he could blow off some steam.

               “Mask of the Red Death,” he said.  She cocked an eyebrow and shook her head. 

               “Too long, you’re Red Mask,” she said.  He nodded, very creative.  Poe would be proud.  “You’re finding Butch first.”  She pointed to a large man with muscles in places Jason didn’t know you could have them.  They were for show, not strength, not fighting.  This guy wanted to look good, not actually be good.  Jason watched him as they entered the makeshift cage.  He circled the guy, letting him come to him.  Butch threw a punch, Jason dodged behind him, and Spartan kicked him in the ass, sending him tripping into the glorified fence surrounding them.  The fight went on for only a few more seconds before the guy came back, trying to kick Jason, who slide to the side, grabbed the guy’s leg and slammed his elbow into his knee.  There was a crunch and Butch fell, howling in pain, unable to get up.  Jason was announced the winner and stepped out, heading towards a back door to get some air.  As he opened the door to the basement walkout, he heard a commotion and turned, seeing cops starting to come down the stairs.  He knew they would be going to the back door next, so he took off, mask going back in his pocket and climbing a nearby fire escape until he was high enough to hide in the shadows above the streetlight.  Once the cops that found the back were inside, he climbed down, running to the alley where he’d left the bike.  He was just moving the dumpster again when the back door to the Big Belly Burger opened, making him jump in surprise and slice his hand on an exposed piece of metal inside the trash.  He let out a grunt and the teenage girl in uniform turned to face him.          

               “Are you ok?” she asked, walking over.  Jason was gripping his hand, trying to stop the bleeding so he could get the bike and leave.  “Hold on, I have a bandage.”  She pulled out a roll box of bandaids from the apron pocket.

               “Clumsy are you?” Jason asked, trying to distract from the annoying ache in his palm.  She chuckled and walked over, pulling a cotton ball out of the packet. 

               “No, we have a griller who thinks he’s a ninja, any time he gets his hand on a knife I have to be ready to stitch him up,” she said.  She started dabbing his hand and Jason once again hissed.  “What music do you like?”

               “I uh…I don’t know, I used to like metal, some alternative stuff, but went through a change this summer…not sure anymore,” he said, confused.  “Why?”

               “Well, one this is distracting you from me disinfecting this thing, so you don’t get tetanus, and two, you live in Crime Alley, don’t be a stereotype.  If you think you might like something different than ‘I grew up in the slums, so I just listen to angry shit’ try Noah Kahan, you look like a guy who’d like him, or Hozier.”  He could tell she was just throwing out names to keep him listening and he appreciated it.  “What’s your name?”

               “Jason,” he said.  She nodded and smiled, finishing with the bandage. 

               “Nice to meet you, I’m YN,” she said.  “Want some help with the dumpster or are all those muscles working?”  She winked at him, and he actually blushed, glad it was dark and she might not notice.

               “Sure,” he said.  Together they moved the dumpster, and he got the bike.  He waved quick before driving back to the penthouse.  He got as far as the elevator door, when it opened there was Dick.

               “So, I see you had an interesting evening,” he said, holding up his phone where video of Jason breaking Butch’s leg was being shown.  Of course, Dick would realize it was him, he would know that move anywhere, Dick had taught it to him. 

               “I needed to get out, blow off some steam, forget who I was for a bit,” he said.  Dick nodded. 

               “Good, then what I just signed you up for will be perfect,” he said.  Jason looked at him, eyebrows raised.  “You’re not a member of the theater program, auditions for Hamlet are Friday.”

               “You can’t be serious,” Jason said, heading out of the elevator.

               “I am very serious, you go to school, go to practice, be someone else for awhile when you’re there, and then you come home and you stay here or I am calling Bruce and sending you back to him, see how Batman deals with your shit,” he said.  Jason sighed, heading up to his room.  Fine, theater, he’d wanted to do that before Bruce pulled him from high school.  How bad could it be?

[rokishimizu4]

Constantine is done, but so is Tim

(This happened a bit before Alfred’s and Jason’s headcanons)

*”And I’m tell you that I would know if it was something supernatural. Even Alfred checked you out and nothing was wrong.” John grumbles as he closes his occult book and his hands stops glowing as Tim puts back on his shirt.

*Cue very unhappy Red Robin noises as he reaches over and grabs a huge mug of steaming hot coffee, and drowns it.

*John simply rolls his eyes and wonders why he agreed to babysit the bedridden Robin, but remembers the look of stress in Bruce’s eyes as he asks for help.

*”Fine, you spoiled little brat, let’s get going.” He grumbles as he helps Tim up off of the bed and follows him out of the Batcave and back to the building in question. (While also sending a quick update to the rest of the Bat family)

*Cue a very long, and awkward, walk to the abandoned warehouse, still covered in yellow police tape and the floor covered in dried and old blood.

*Splitting up, while not the best idea, did help Tim remember where he was originally meant to enter from. Which was covered in claw marks (deep into the brick and steel surrounding the high window a good 40 feet up) and a black slime that smells faintly of what he thinks stardust would smell like.

*While Tim, dressed in civilian clothes-trying to blend in, is checking it out, he hears John yelping and cursing in ancient Latin through the steel and brick walls.

*Tim scrambles towards the hole in the wall, and finds Constantine trying to dodge some type of sheep with wings, colored in blues and pinks, that was firing some type of dust at him.

*The sheep, or ram or something, seems to notice him as well and begins to speak in English….

*”Great, another two bit magician who can’t keep his nose to himself.” It huffs as it dodges yet another blast of magic. Before it simply begins to grow and change, spreading dust around itself.

*”Am I high or still asleep?” Tim yelps as he takes cover under a overturned table and covers his nose and mouth with the thick material of his jacket, as it was slowly turning cold, but the creature jumps John before he could return the favor.

*”Get off of me, you sheep whore!” John curses as he scrambles to get his trench coat off of him, as it was being covered in the strange dust, but gets a heeled kick in his stomach in return.

*Tim peeks over to find some type of demon standing over John’s groaning form. Horns like a sheep, or Ram he would have to look it up later if he remembers, and its hair twisted in blues and pinks.

*The clothing, if you can call it that, barely covered anything and he could clearly see that it had black, leather, wings and a long pointed tail.

*The demon jumps off of John and looks over at Tim, giving him a very confused look. Before it gives a clap and floats, flies?, over to him.

*”Little Sleeper will be so happy to see you up and about! They were so worried that they somehow killed you!”

*Cue slow realization that this demon thing, whatever, knew who he was and that it knew that he got his ass kicked by accident! Cue Tim trying to play it off, but him getting a disappointed look from the demon and a choked off chuckle from John.

*”Can’t lie to a demon, sweet little thing. But I like that you have the balls to try. However, I’m not here on a social call, so please drag this sorry excuse of a human being back to your little fancy house and leave the bad guys to us, yes?”

*The demon gives Tim a creepy smile before simply disappearing in a cloud of dust, that strangely smells of peppermint and spiced cider.

*The two men agree to never speak about the incident again, at least until they both get enough coffee in them to properly process what they just experienced.

*Also, cue Tim blaming it on the drugs in his system, which he has none of btw, and goes back to bed.

[gothamite-rambler]

Nightwing and Batwoman First Time Meeting

Batwoman appeared silently behind Nightwing as he surveyed the Bludhaven skyline.

Batwoman: Hey.

Nightwing turned, startled to see a tall woman with red hair in a sleek, new batsuit.

Nightwing: Um… hi. Where did you come from?

Batwoman (monotone): The shadows.

Nightwing: What?

Batwoman (explaining): I’m Batwoman.

Nightwing (confused): I can tell by your costume. But… do you know Batman?

Batwoman: Yeah, I’m his first cousin.

Nightwing (smiling): Oh, so you’re mentally unwell. Let's get you somewhere safe.

He reached to help her, but she kicked him in the shin. He winced in shock. Batwoman shook her head, annoyed.

Batwoman (monotone): No touchy. Dick Grayson, son of Bruce Wayne, first Robin, and currently Nightwing. I’m Bruce's cousin on his mother's side. Martha Wayne was her name. I’m fully aware he is Batman.

Nightwing rubbed his sore shin, skeptical of her claims.

Batwoman (stoic): I have some embarrassing stories about him if that would help you believe me.

Nightwing: First, your shoes are pointed at the tip. That hurt a little, but good defense. Second, I’m not agreeing with anything you said—I have my doubts. Batman has never mentioned his family to me… Not that I'm Dick Grayson.

Batwoman: Hold on.

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Bruce's number. He answered almost instantly.

Batman (expecting this): You actually called me for this?

Batwoman: Yeah, where are you?

Batman: It’s the middle of the night. Guess. Robin is here with me; say hi to my new colleague.

Robin's confused voice could be heard on the line.

Robin (confused): Um, hi.

Nightwing remained silent, unsure of how to react.

Batwoman: Yeah, he's still looking at me doubtfully. Can you just reassure him that I'm good and won't hurt him in the numerous ways you've been tricked and deceived—

Batman (loudly): Nightwing, she’s telling the truth. If anything happens, like her being annoying, just call me.

Nightwing: Holy betrayal, Batman! You never told me you had cousin!

Batwoman chuckled.

Batman: I sent her—

Robin!Tim (laughing): You have a cousin! Ow!

Batman: I sent her there to help! I swear on Robin’s life she won’t hurt you.

Robin!Tim (shocked): Why my life?!

Nightwing (chuckling): He's probably referring to all of us.

Batwoman laughed, nodding as if she were used to Bruce saying that.

Batwoman: I’m gonna let you go, Bats. It seems you and your tenth Robin need to chat.

Robin!Tim (insulted): I’m the third!

Batman (coldly): She was kidding!

Robin!Tim (angrily through clenched teeth): End the call! We need to discuss what you said!

Batman: Thanks a bunch, Batwoman!

With that, Batman abruptly hung up.

Nightwing blinked and then burst into laughter, covering his mouth as he tried to stifle the noise. Batwoman put her hands on her hips.

Batwoman: That entertained you?

Nightwing: Totally. Sorry for doubting you, but watching you embarrass him was enjoyable.

Batwoman: I have a knack for that. Nice to finally meet you. B has told me a lot about you—both the embarrassing stuff and the good.

Nightwing: Yeah, and none about you. Have you and he known each other for long? I’m not trying to be rude, just didn’t know he had other family members.

Batwoman (nodding): He's Batman. He likes to keep things mysterious. Plus, some of his family—on both sides—are certifiably insane. I don’t blame him. I reconnected with him about five years ago. His face when I told him I knew he was Batman? Priceless.

Nightwing: How did you find out?

Batwoman: I snuck into his house one day, and after messing around in his office, I stumbled into the Batcave. That staircase really needs a railing.

Nightwing (chuckling): Yeah, I’ve slipped a couple of times too. But B says a railing isn’t required.

Batwoman (crossing her arms): Safety like that isn’t a concern for him.

Nightwing: Exactly.

Batwoman (jokingly): But he’ll set up a lazy Susan for his Batmobile.

Nightwing nodded and shook off the soreness in his shin.

Nightwing: This may sound odd, but I’m glad we’re meeting like this. It’s nice to finally meet you. But why are you here again?

Batwoman: Batman mentioned you needed help with a mob. I love messing with the mob, so I volunteered as tribute to keep Batman from bothering you.

Nightwing (lightly teasing): He told you I read Hunger Games?

Batwoman (shrugging with a smile): He did, but I’ve read it too. Don’t worry, kid. I’ve been at this for a few years, and I know Batman likes to be the leader. I'm just here to help.

Nightwing (laughing): That’s nice to hear actually. Thanks. I like your batsuit, too.

Batwoman: Thanks! I made it myself. I won’t disclose my civilian name, but yours is funny, so I’ll proceed to call you Dick, Dickie, or Dickward when we’re not in front of villains. I’m not picking on you, you just seem adorable. I like your face; you have a good face.

She patted him on the cheek with an appreciative smile.

Nightwing (genuinely): Okay, that’s fine. Just stop—you're making me blush. My hero name is Nightwing, though, and it’s a… cool one.

Batwoman (holding out her hand): I agree.

They shook hands.

Batwoman: Good grip. And again, you’re very handsome. Nice jawline, shaggy hair, probably good eyes. Not bad. Also, just to be clear, you’re not my type. Just putting that on the table. Ready to patrol?

Nightwing (admiring the compliments): I actually am. You seem cool… weird… but reassuring. You won’t come on to me, which is definitely nice. Let’s do this.

Batwoman (tilting her head): Trust me, Dickie. I’m cool and weird. Do you want to roof hop first, or would you prefer to run on the streets?

Nightwing: Roof hop, but uh, one question before we go.

Batwoman: I’ll allow it.

Nightwing: You won’t try to flirt with me or come on to me? I just want to be sure you won’t make me uncomfortable or bring up certain aspects of my suit that aren’t relevant to my job.

He rubbed his arm, blushing slightly. Batwoman nodded, remaining stoic, but she could see his bashfulness.

Batwoman (sympathetic): You’ve been through a lot. Batman never disclosed what, but he mentioned you’ve had a tough few years. Don’t worry, Nightwing. We’re strictly family and coworkers. I always wanted more cousins, and I would never hurt any of them. Plus, I won’t take advantage of you. In fact, I’ll protect you whenever I can because you’ve won me over so far.

Nightwing: Really? Awesome.

Batwoman: Agreed. And remember, you’re not my type.

Nightwing (relieved): Got it.

With that, Nightwing and Batwoman headed off to fight crime.

[msfcatlover]

Every Monster Can’t Be Your Kid, Bruce.

Inspired really heavily by You, Me, and the Humanity in Between by JUBE514, which I misunderstood the first time I read it and thought they were all going to be different types of monsters. So Dick & Jason are very close to that story in their origins here. You should absolutely read that fic, because it’s fantastic, but the major take away for my AU is that if you pour enough love into something, it can come to life, and the more life & love it carries the more “real” that life becomes.

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Dick is an antique doll, handed down through generations of Graysons, becoming gradually more alive & aware as time went on. It was John Grayson and eventually his wife Mary who managed to tip Dick over into being animate even when people were watching him. Dick only became more & more real from there, as John & Mary shared their love of flying with him, and eventually shared the spotlight & love of their audience. The circus as a whole saw Dick as a blessing, being fully aware of his inhuman nature but accepting him as a source of good luck… until John & Mary fell, leaving their doll-son behind. Dick could actually see his place in the family he’d been part of turn towards superstitious whispers, as his movements stiffened and his joints became more visible. He wasn’t anyone’s good luck charm anymore.

Bruce also saw how everyone turned on that poor little boy, and rushed to give Dick a place to stay, haunted by the whispers of his own childhood that found ways to blame Bruce for what happened to Thomas & Martha Wayne. Bruce isn’t exactly great at expressing his love, but Dick never needs to doubt it when he can see & feel the evidence right there in his own body. And when Robin met the rest of the hero community, they loved him too, giving Dick the chance to actually grow up for the first time in almost 150yrs.

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The first thing Jason ever experienced was love, as the city itself brought him to life. The second thing was freedom, as Jason slipped from the rooftop he’d been carved for and for the first time experienced flight. The third was agony, as Jason struck the ground and his wings snapped right off.

Jason’s not technically a gargoyle. Gargoyles are structurally important, directing water away from the building, and basically never come to life. Jason is a grotesque, carved for decoration & to ward off evil spirits. Without any family to go to, Jason stuck to that second job, protecting the people of his neighborhood as best he could. Batman investigated what he thought was a new vigilante, and found a boy carved from solid stone who could almost pass for human if he stayed out of the light. Bruce worried Jason would suffer the same rejection Dick had, and offered Jason a home; it took some convincing to tempt Jason away from his territory, as it is in Jason’s nature to stay in place in order to protect, but eventually Jason agreed in exchange for training.

(The new Robin doesn’t bend or jerk the way the last one did, but he hits the ground like a meteor strike, and rakes gouges in brick with his claws. He doesn’t shatter & grin through any injury, because most weapons glance off or shatter themselves against his stony skin.)

(Joker submerged a boy carved from centuries-old limestone in an acid bath, and by the time it was drained there wasn’t enough left to animate. Bruce still called every magician he knew, hoping to hear someone say Jason was still alive despite that.)

(Talia had a marble sculpture carved, and had what was retrieved from Jason’s coffin sealed at its core. It still took one hell of a ritual to bring him back, now with a tail that lashed & wings that swept the ground behind him to go with the fangs & claws he’d always had. The new body was perfect in the way only sculptures can be, and Jason just kept himself covered up rather than bother painting & repainting color onto his skin every time he went out in public, lacking the love to lock it in.)

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Tim was the opposite of his brothers. If you love something, anything, you can bring it to life; if something goes unloved & ignored, on the other hand… Tim just slowly faded into the background of his own life. Nobody talked to him at galas. His parents overlooked him at dinner. Other kids avoided him, while staff wouldn’t look him in the eye. Until one day Tim’s teacher was calling attendance and called Tim’s name three times before Tim abruptly stood up, chair screeching across the floor, and snapped, “I said, I’m right here!” The whole class stared wide-eyed, as though Tim has appeared from nowhere.

Tim learned to take advantage of it. He learned what he could do, as something reality itself sometimes ignored (if Tim closes his eyes and has no one else observing him, he can even bypass laws of physics to move through walls or take a few steps out on open air.) Tim tried to convince himself it was just meta-powers manifesting, and it was pure coincidence how closely his condition mirrored mythical Echo (at least people always hear her voice.)

The only time it doesn’t work is if someone wants to notice Tim. A paradox, as first they need to know the true Tim well enough to want to notice him, rather than their own preconceived notion of Tim or one of the masks that Tim puts on. On the plus side, once Tim became Robin that meant he had people he could reach out to who would answer the phone & talk him through it when reality felt especially swimmy or Tim’s own sense of self might waver. Being overlooked is also just one hell of a superpower, and Tim puts it to good use.

(Tim is eternally annoyed once he starts getting close to people and can no longer slip past them. He demands to know why they can see him, and they’re like, “Because we want to? Because we care about you?” and Tim’s like, “Well that’s inconvenient!”)

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Finding a decapitated teenage girl caught under one of the docks was just an especially depressing day for the Gotham PD. Finding a corpse that grabbed back when the coroner went to move it meant it was time to call in the Batman. Steph didn’t know Morse code and her eyes & ears were currently stuck somewhere in muffled darkness far away from the rest of her, so communication was rough but they eventually got her story out of her. Revenants come back for specific reasons, so it was expected she would be there when her father was apprehended; the words he screamed when he saw her corpse, and the beeline Steph made for the box under his workbench put any remaining doubts to rest. Steph picked the lock by touch, and retrieved her head with a huff of relief.

Then Robin said, “Did you find it?” and Steph jumped, throwing her head at him on instinct. It was very embarrassing for both of them, and when Robin handed Steph her head back and she balanced it back on her neck, she immediately started blushing.

(Bruce buys Steph a whole lot of beautiful “necklaces” to help keep her head balanced. Spoiler is the Headless Horseman of Gotham, and Steph finds it hilarious to play into the image. She no longer experiences true pain, just deep discomfort, and gets very good at lobbing her head like a grisly dodgeball at anyone she dislikes.)

(Steph’s a lot more lively than most people expect of the undead, eating & chattering, even getting sick sometimes. She loudly proclaims that the best part of losing her head is that she no longer has to taste it when she throws up, as long as she’s quick enough removing it—when Steph does puke, it’s mostly bilge-water, no matter what she put in her stomach ahead of time.)

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Cass is a homunculus, but I have no details. Damian’s got his “mixed DNA clone” origin going on. That’s where I’m at with this one.

[kerakeriza]

it's my personal opinion that damian wouldn't *need* to say this to talia. because she would love her family regardless. that's literally her whole entire problem, her biggest character flaw is that she loves her family despite their horrible terrible issues. she acknowledges this herself. she knows her father kind of sucks but she still loves him, and she's not proud of it, but she also always seemed resistant to really change that part of herself. it was hard for her, like ridiculously hard for her to just STOP loving someone. it was something she could never do, at least not through the 80s. (i obviously can't speak for the 90s. i haven't read many 90s comics at all.)

HOWEVER! i do think damian would still end up saying something like this because he *misunderstands* his mother's intentions and feelings towards him. how i justify talia raising her baby as an assassin despite wanting to break away from that life (or at least give her baby a chance to grow up away from that life) is that she only ended up raising damian as an assassin in order for him to be able to defend himself. the way i see it... is that talia knew someday damian would want to make his own decisions. it was all too likely that he'd want to run away and be with his father and become robin, just like dick and jason and tim all became robin after getting too close to bruce. i mean, it's *canon* that talia taught damian a LOT about his father, enough for damian to recognize bruce in a crowd not so much based on his looks, but based on his posture and mannerisms. she would have to have known the day would come when damian would become robin. ergo, she trained him to defend himself. (that part isn't canon, but it's how i justify everything.)

but, y'know, talia can't go and explain every little reason she had for raising damian this way. after all, how could he possibly understand those reasons? it was all history that he wasn't even alive for. so she wouldn't tell him. so he wouldn't know. so damian ends up with this misconception that talia didn't *have* a good reason to raise him this way, it was just to keep him away from his father and way from the title of robin - to keep him away from doing *what he wanted* with his life! so of course he blames his mother and thinks she doesn't accept him or love him for who he is. how could he know otherwise when it's such an impossible task to explain to him? he could only know when he's ready. when he's able to really grasp the crazy things you do for love, to protect someone you care about. sometimes you hurt them to protect them. of course it hurt damian to raise him this way. but now nobody has to worry about whether the 10 year old boy is prepared to defend himself against violent attacks. bruce worried so much about jason's safety, for instance, isn't it better in the end if he doesn't have to worry so much about that with *this* robin? i think talia would agree that it's better this way, because even if she gave damian away, he may eventually find out where he comes from and want to be a part of that life. sure, it's dangerous in itself to grow up as an assassin, but in the end, it's led to damian being much safer as robin, ironically.

[whetstonefires]

#steph's death designed as her own fault is like jason's death designed as his own fault #that is to say: not their fault at all actually

see I strongly disagree, and i think op is right that readings that go with the 'not their fault' take away something vital from the characterization of everyone involved and land you in catch-22 hell, where .

Jason's 'fault' wasn't that he didn't do as he was told or whatever, it was that he trusted the wrong person in the wrong way. Wanting to save his mom--good. Not thinking through oh, maybe hostages don't get smoke breaks, maybe I should doubt her statement 'the Joker left' a little bit. Because he was running a full mental load of 'telling My Mom my Secret Identity and Saving Her and Bruce Doesn't Get It.'

And this didn't, in the moment, stop him from being Good and Worthy, it just meant he got dead. And subsequently got blamed for the wrong things, which sort of makes in-setting sense because Batman wasn't there to see what happened exactly and isn't rational about it. On a writing level it's shittier but hey gotta keep those wham moments coming, serialized media chopchop.

Similarly Steph's issue wasn't disobedience or whatever, it was that in service of her particular emotional needs, she jumped feet-first into something that had horrible consequences she couldn't predict, because she didn't have enough information. because she needed to do something, because the situation she was in was unfair and wrong, and she was going to use what she had.

That's exactly the kind of thing she would do, details aside. And because of her longterm status as a source of conflict in Tim's book, even the bad parts fit in pretty well with her history for the most part.

These are actually reasonably in-character decisions for each of them, although War Games is a lot bigger and less sympathetic of a fuck-up. (Because I do not agree that this would have happened without Steph's incitement and I think that's very boring.) These are ways to follow your heart into deep shit that make a decent amount of sense, in context.

The issue is that the writers don't just control what the characters do, they control whether they get away with it, and these particular incidents were designed not to be gotten away with, and then there was a pretense that there was some inherent difference in the choices at the point of choosing that made them deserve to have gotten the bad outcome, instead of the lucky shave so common for robins and other comic book characters.

like they should have been able to tell the rules were different this time, or like when Robin does fuck up but pull through they knew that would work out, and weren't just holding it together in freefall. the narrative is creating meaning that isn't inherently there, which is what it's for but it's a bad creation this time.

it's the monkeying with agency where the snarls start, and you can't fix it by shifting blame around within the setting because the whole problem is the writing team having shifted blame from themselves onto the characters. trying to redirect the blame from the original targets to some nearby character just exacerbates the problem, by taking favored blorbo's agency away while creating conflict for whoever's getting dumped on instead.

you can't fix it just by shifting the blame back onto the script either, because that still leaves the situation intact and in need of reconciliation with character and setting, but at least it doesn't make it worse.

the steph brown conundrum aka the problem with steph being a character with hugely divergent doylist and watsonian readings

okay, so like. there is always a part of me that feels that to this day, didio kind of won when it came to the destruction of steph's character. like she wasn't a toxic character like he thought before he got his hands on her, but since he did & there was fallout from it, it has completely destroyed dc's desire to do anything potentially interesting with her, even as they've brought her back. like. she will always just kind of be a shell of her former self, doomed to stay uncontroversial and in the background. because when it comes to steph, and the problem with utilizing steph as a character now, you have to acknowledge two things

steph from an editorial and out of universe perspective was treated horrifically. the nonsensical and terrible things they made her do to move along the plot of post-crisis are awful and excessively reckless to the point of intentional character assassination & it was all done to justify her fridging for bruce's (and tim's) manpain which is awful

but the things that steph did as a result of the above are extremely load-bearing and important on plot and character dynamics and motivations from war games all the way to reborn era & to try and remove or minimize things that happened as a result of those actions just because they were arguably out of character from her has the unfortunate result of completely and intentionally warping the characterization of everyone who interacts with her to the point where it negatively affects almost every single other character instead.

so in order to show this we need to start at war games, talk about what happened, & go into how this affects things & why her character assassination is not as easy to fix as cass's or leslie's

so war games. ah war games. you know, having recently reread it, war games is frustrating because it's arguably a semi good event for most everyone except steph and leslie (especially leslie--now that was character assassination.). so let's get into the bare bones of what exactly happens in war games (war games being the three main events of this time: war drums (the prequal), war games proper, & war crimes (the follow up & worst part of the event)) (and i'm not saying i necessarily agree with this, just. this is what we have to consider.)

war drums:

this event has two main stories - the bruce & leslie story and the steph becomes robin story

in the bruce & leslie story (which is definitely racist), we have a young teenage pregnant girl who shows up at leslie's clinic having been shot. leslie attempts to save the girl and baby, but is left in a precarious situation where only one can be saved. she reluctantly calls bruce for help finding the girl's family, who finds out that the girl in question is popstar l'shea's sister--the popstar and her entourage in question kidnap leslie & the girl & bruce finds them, where it's revealed the girl is actually l'shea's daughter (like i said. racist.). l'shea makes the decision to save the baby, which kills the girl. leslie tries to get bruce to see that he can't save everyone, and ultimately gets upset about the cycle of violence she feels he perpetuates when he goes to take mr. freeze back in. she later comes to talk to bruce & it ends on a positive note fairly consistent with the bruce & leslie relationship--one in which leslie wishes he could devote himself to saving lives nonviolently & hoping he could see her as an example. my only quibble is that bruce responds as "ha-ha" leslie when if you compare to the batman chronicles #18, bruce absolutely counts on her to challenge his worldview & be a shining example of what he cannot be.

we do start to see the seeds of character assassination for leslie here imo, though this part is the best understanding of her by far--she's always been a foil to bruce as far as her pacifism and her determination to try and show him that there are other ways than his crusade, but traditionally she's always been defined as well by her immense love for him & he for her. she fundamentally disagrees with his crusade, but she's going to be there for him because she knows there's good in him that's worth saving--because to leslie, every life, including bruce's, is worth saving. anyways, read the batman chronicles #18, where she's determined to use O- blood on zsasz because of her firm commitment to the belief that every life is precious & she and bruce talk about their differences in opinion but how she's determined to keep showing him there's another way & he wants her to do so. this leslie who has, up until this event, been troubled by his crusade--but has decided it's tireless, but worth it to show him the good in people, suddenly seems a lot more, hm. overtly hateful of how batman operates & the fact that he puts criminals back in prison just for them to break out and the cycle to continue & has a sudden desire to not work with him if at all possible because of her total disagreement with his methods. which is. hm. somewhat but not entirely consistent with leslie's motivation. leslie would have no problem asking bruce for help if it meant saving an innocent & the fact that he believes in the redemption of criminals is something she inherently believes in. anyways i digress-

the other main story is, as we all know, the steph becomes robin story. and while you do not have to agree with how it is written wrt stephanie, the barebones of what exactly transpires is thus: tim has quit robin for his dad. he is attempting to live a normal life--go to school, hang out with friends, & not do the vigilante thing even when he sees people in need. he meets up with steph, who tells him of her determination to return to spoiler now that her broken leg has healed & he tells her that it's very hard for him to leave the house on account of jack always being suspicious that he's going out to be robin & be involved in anything vigilante again (it is implied that this is the first time he had been able to get out in a while because of his dad, as he didn't know she got her cast off). one day, when tim is at school, darla aquista, who has a crush on him, kisses him out of the blue. this happens to be seen by steph, who is now officially active again & chooses to be active during the day as a result of wanting to avoid batman as she doesn't have his approval, has gone over to tim's school to check on him because she's suspicious he's hiding something from her other than he's basically under house arrest from his dad atm since it had been so long since she had seen him. it, of course, looks terrible to her and she flounces off--deciding that she's going to become robin. bruce agrees, which everyone--alfred, barbara, eventually tim, etc completely understands to be a scheme to lure tim back. steph proceeds to completely ghost tim for the next two months--he calls and leaves messages, and she never calls back or comes to see him at all--she is completely radio silent & avoiding him and he doesn't know why but he is worried. bruce tells stephanie that she will not be privy to any secrets & the minute she disobeys an order she's out (a double standard, yes, but completely consistent in that he, again, is using her basically only to lure tim back). meanwhile, scarab is hunting tim, killing boys in his age range with dark hair and their families in an attempt to kill robin as there is a contract out for his life. tim then finds out through the newspaper that the reason steph has been avoiding him is because she became robin & calls the batcave to finally talk to steph & ask her to meet so they can finally talk in perso. about what exactly happened and how on earth steph became robin. cassandra comes instead--steph doesn't show up because batman and robin are busy hunting scarab who is trying to kill tim/previous robin & tim needs to be put under protection. steph gets a tracking device on scarab. day 49, bruce and steph go to get scarab, bruce goes in while steph is let behind for support in the batplane, bruce gets blinded, steph disobeys bruce and comes in to help, steph gets caught by scarab, scarab gets away in the batplane because steph forgot to arm the security system. steph officially gets fired 3 weeks later for disobeying an order on day 71.

yea, it's something. but it is what it is.

war games:

so we get to war games proper. overnight, a gang war has erupted & set the city ablaze and into chaos after a letter was sent out calling all the crime bosses to the harbor where a firefight breaks out on account of the main player who was supposed to be there if those letters were sent out, matches malone, not showing up. since tensions are high, it's easy for then to start shooting and killing each other & in doing so creates an immediate and widespread vacuum of power in the criminal underworld of gotham that people leap to try to fill & wipe out their competition in the meantime. innocent people are caught in the crosshairs.

nightwing (who is already having a terrible time) shows up to help (with tarantula) & is personally dealing with the emotional fallout of letting tarantula kill blockbuster amongst other things.

barbara is doing her best to help out and triage people to help, but there's really only batman, batgirl, nightwing, tarantula, & orpheus against a whole city. and at this point, tarantula has taken over a gang under batman's command to try and control things and can't overtly help & orpheus was already in control of a gang under batman's command in an attempt to protect women & children and exert some control over the criminal underbelly of gotham and also cannot overtly help out.

stuff with hush is happening in gotham knights but i don't care aj lieberman, by god, i do not care.

tim is doing his best to go about his day and keep his promise to his dad and not go out to help despite the fact that the city is falling apart. this becomes harder when a rival gang comes to kill his friend darla aquista at their high school, on account of her father being a mob boss. the kids are panicked and run into the school for sanctuary and safety, but are followed in and darla is shot.

what happens next is that tim's school is taken over by gangsters--the ones who came to kill darla, and the ones who see the opportunity to kill the ones who are trying to kill darla--and the kids are trapped in there with them, doing their best to hide, but some are taken hostage & are at the mercy of their captives (kids are killed). tim shelters in the nurses's office & does his best to go out and help who he can bring to safety, alone with getting a lay of the school (which gang is where).

meanwhile, bruce, cass, & dick have been informed that tim's school is taken over and kids are dying. along with all their other current trauma, they have to go find tim in an active shooter zone where he could very well be dead. dick gets to be the one who finds him (such a traumatic time for dick btw), and he's thankfully okay. they get control back of the school and free the kids. batman comes out on live television holding darla's body--she's not dead yet, but she's close.

we find out where steph is. selina finds her and we finally find out why this happened: upset at getting fired and frustrated that she's never been able to truly land their approval, steph lashed out & stole a plan designed to unite the crime families in gotham under batman's control hoping that if she was able to set off a plan for batman & it worked he would take her back and she'd finally have his approval. however, the main man didn't show up and it fell to pieces--doomed to fail. and the reason that this all happened is because steph was never told that batman is matches malone. there's actually a ton of 'bruce what have you done' here. catwoman shelters steph & tells her to stay put. steph does not do so, she leaves so she can try to find orpheus & help get the situation under control because she knows he's key to the plan.

tim, unable to stand by any longer despite his promise to his dad after the thing at the school, returns to the manor where he is greeted by alfred & returns to being robin.

batman finally also realizes that what happened is his war game contigency plan/hypothetical/thought experiment just as a citywide blackout hits--a plan he never intended to implement, it was one of his hypotheticals. & they also start looking for orpheus, as he's the key because they need to keep him alive as the plan was for the criminal underworld to reform united under his, and therefore batman's, rule.. steph finds him first, just in time to see his throat slit--by black mask.

steph gets into a one v one altercation with black mask and is overpowered and at his mercy. he tortures her. it's gross, we all know.

tim tells his dad he's returned to being robin. we get what is probably some of the best jack drake charactetization. tim meets jack and dana so they can go help out at leslie's clinic to help the injured.

steph, eventually, after being tortured, finally tells black mask that the plan required orpheus and is now obsolete because orpheus is dead.

cass is looking for steph because she's probably the only one aware that steph is out as spoiler & she knows that the last time she saw steph steph was lying to her about something

leslie is currently acting extremely out of character. and she's kind of a jerk to cass when cass comes looking for steph & is downright hateful about his mission. (which. is ooc for leslie--while she's never agreed with bruce's mission she's always, always, loved and respected them all--consider her in NML vs here. she wants to end his crusade and him to do something better, but she's always looking to be a beacon of hope that there is another way. every disagreement should be steeped in her love for them).

hush is still here for some reason and will tell black mask where the batcave is

catwoman is concerned about steph--who has passed out from the torture--calling her "the kid you messed up so badly she started this whole mess"

batman takes over oracle's & the police's system by force. we're really in it now. steph wakes up, determined to get to batman to tell him about orpheus's death.

black mask, however, has taken over orpheus's identity and is contacting batman, ostensibly to continue the "plan". and darla officially dies, meaning her father is out for revenge and wants everyone killed.

batman meets up with black mask as orpheus & figures out spoiler was there, but he assumes she fought zeiss. he leaves, black mask is planning...something as orpheus.

batman has barbara take over the police waves once more. barbara is getting really sick if this shit.

gotham city is starting to rail against vigilantes as a result of the widespread chaos of war games, calling for them to turn themselves in.

batman has orpheus call a grand meeting. ostensibly to end things and ensure peace in gotham with everything unified under orpheus's commands. orpheus is, however, dead. black mask uses the meeting to set everything ablaze again & barbaba has to call off the vigilantes from helping to protect the gcpd to go help batman--this is the straw that breaks the camel's back of this causes an official break in the uneasy alliance between vigilante & gcpd and comissioner akins gives the order to shoot to kill vigilantes on sight (as also, as a result of the plan failing due to orpheus's murder it seems as if batman et al are on the side of the villains causing mayhem)

at this point the game it out of control & they have to focus on stopping it. cass finally has a chance to talk to batman and tell him her suspicions that steph was the one who set the entire thing into motion, which he has now figured out (on account of him finding traces of spoilers's at orpheus's)

dick gets shot in the leg by the police while fighting firefly

tim meanwhile is happy to return to robin, and actually has bunch of nice things to say about steph's time as robin--that she kept things light for bruce, that he's not too proud to learn from her--even if he did admittedly resent her a little bit for how it all went down. he's also currently in the middle of a breakdown over darla's death and is pretending everything's okay by just go go going.

steph has freed herself from her bonds and gets into it with black mask, finally overpowering him when she realizes "this isn't a game". she gets a gun to his head & wants to pull the trigger and end him for good, but can't--as that would mean betraying everything she's been taught. the hesitation costs her and black mask gets the gun and shoots her in the shoulder & kicks her down the stairs & leaves

she manages to get herself up despite her extensive injuries and escapes by rooftop, where she's finally found by batman, who brings her to leslie and begs her to save steph. he then tells her she did good & that she did everything she could & that the city owes her after everything she went through.

and black mask is still causing trouble--hush supposedly told him the location of the batcave & he plans to solidify his reign as the undisputed crime lord of gotham by sending everyone there--it's not the batcave, however--it's the clocktower. all the criminals are now converging on and headed for directly for barbara. they get in and make it past all her defenses and invade her safe space, black mask making it to her control room & taking her hostage. the gcpd also descend upon the clocktower.

batman goes ham and almost kills black mask, saying it'd be worth it to end everything that's transpired. tim creates a diversion by lying saying they'll turn themselves into the police. barbara blows up her clocktower so that bruce has to make the decision between saving her & killing black mask. bruce chooses to save her & it's over. bruce gets called to leslie's clinic, where it turns out steph had too much internal damage to save her. steph tells him that she started it all, and bruce says he knows but that they took care of it. he tells her that tim isn't mad at her and that the baby she had won't want for anything ever. he lies and says that taking her on as robin wasn't just to bring tim back, that she was really robin & that he'll be watching over her. she dies. black mask takes over as the new criminal overlord of gotham city.

as a result of all of the above, we get the following: gotham is no longer safe for vigilantes to operate. tim has been set in motion on the path of loss from darla to steph to his dad in another event that will eventually lead him to the mental space he needs to be in to become red robin and leaves for bludhaven. cass follows in her grief of all that transpired. dick is out of commission due to his gunshot wound & dealing with the fallout of working with bruce while feeling like he doesn't deserve to, but is also the only one left to work with bruce. barbara, whose safe haven was trampled upon and destroyed, feels gotham to go be with the birds of prey in another city. bruce is operating all but alone, save for a couple of other distant vigilantes.

we find out that bruce didn't--couldn't--tell tim steph had died until hours after the fact, and that's when tim was finally able to hear the whole story as to how steph became robin all the way to how the gang war got started. this is also when dick finds out the whole story as well.

and thus, war games ends

war crimes:

so we make our way to the epilogue of this storyline. the very aptly named war crimes

the public is still railing against vigilantes. it comes out publicly that stephanie brown was spoiler, then robin, and that her injuries were not thus that should have killed her. batman finds out and goes to leslie's to find out who leaked stephanie's information, only to find out leslie has resigned and her chief resident left with her. batman finds the resident, murdered in a clear attempt to set batman up. (it's black mask setting him up). a man named aaron black is railing against black mask, batman, & the gcpd for the gang war

we find out that treatment was deliberately withheld from stephanie and she was purposely left to die. we find out aaron black is the not so dead arthur brown. & we find out that crystal knows something and is prepared to spill it all. black mask comes dressed as batman to attack crystal brown on live tv. we find out the joker is after black mask for killing robin. the joker gets arrested, black mask gets arrested (and escapes), a tv reporter gets indicted, the leader of the odessa mob gets indicted, commissioner akins and athur brown don't get indicted, and batman has finally figured out who killed stephanie and goes to africa where she fled to.

in, quite possibly, the greatest moment of character assassination in this entire gd event we find out it was leslie who let stephanie die because she was tired of batman's crusade, destroying everything she once stood for just to prove a point to bruce about the senselessness of it all and to try and put an end to it. congrats to dc for this horrific epilogue.

so there it is--the entire event. it certainly is a thing that happened. and that's the problem--it happened. and it was very, very much intended as a personal fuck you and goodbye to the characters of stephanie brown and leslie thompkins. and that's terrible on so many levels. but unfortunatel the fact of the matter is, despite that and regardless of any personal feelings about it, war games became a load-bearing event to batman canon.

because war games had so much influence on fundamentally upheaving and changing the status quo of the characters involved and storylines following this could not happen without war ganes existing. without war games, tim does not become the tim that will eventually become red robin. without war games, dick is not injured and out of commission and does not flee to new york and the mob, leaving bludhaven for tim and cass and on his passively suicidal mission that will eventually lead to infinite crisis and the one year boat ride. without war games, barbara does not leave gotham because she needs to leave it behind, only to return during the reborn era & all the tension that entails. without war games, bruce doesn't end up alone & isolated as needed for the red hood storyline. without war games, stephanie is not killed and thus can't be evolved into batgirl as an apology for the way she was treated. the dynamics caused by war games are essential to the stories that come after it. and then you're left with two very, very uncomfortable truths:

one, war games was a horrific fuck you and. fridging to a female character solely because of the evil sexism present at dc editorial at the time and of course you want to delete anything that had such awful intentions behind it

two, war games happening is essential to the trajectory of every single bat characters' story that comes after it including hers. and so it had to happen. and the thing with war games is that steph, while not completely to blame for it transpiring, was humongous part of it transpiring no matter what. because we end up with what it seems to me, the grand circle of blame. it goes as follows: war games never would have happened if bruce hadn't made his contingency plan to begin with -> yes, but. even if it is one of bruce's toxic traits to do that, he never intended for the contingency to go into effect and it was more of a hypothetical than anything and the only reason it ever saw the light of day was because steph stole it and put it into action -> yes, but. if bruce had been less of an asshole and told steph the basic information of matches malone is batman she wouldn't have made the mistake -> yes, but. to completely blame bruce is to remove any and all agency from steph, because nobody put a gun to her head and forced her to implement the plan, that was entirely her decision. and as much as we would have liked her to have decided she no longer needed batman's approval, the fact of the matter is she did want it and she did make the decision to send those letters -> yes but, if bruce hadn't had a contigency to begin with she wouldn't have had such an awful plan to steal -> yes, but having contigencies for plans that will never come to fruition is honestly a normal thing for them and bruce planning out a hypothetical is just another tuesday, and it was steph who set it into notion -> yes, but... and so on and so forth endlessly until the end of time. like, whether things were out of character or whatnot is a valid discussion (though all comics characters are doomed for stories where they're out of character), but putting that aside: the fact is, for every character's trajectory into the reborn era, war games had to happen. and for war games to have ever seen the light of day and happened, steph had to make the decision to send those letters.

and so we're left with this. steph made those decisions because of horrificly sexist behind the scenes decisions. if steph didn't make those decisions, then no other character trajectory makes sense. and that's how we end up with a steph conundrum that is so much harder to fix than any other character assasination of the time. because cass's was easy to retcon as brainwashing, it makes sense for slade being involved. leslie was easy to retcon as faking steph's death, that removes her intent to kill a child and restores her original characterization of every life is sacrosanct. but war games? war games does not and can not happen unless stephanie decides to send those letters. things with tim and barbara and cass and even through steph becoming batgirl don't happen unless steph sends those letters. and when she sends those letters, hundreds of innocent people die and even though bruce is largely to blame (and is blamed, by the narrative), there is a culpability of steph's active decision in the entire mess that exists.

and if that culpability exists, if she sent those letters and war games happened, and innocent people died and barbara had to blow up her home and tim had to do cpr with darla's blood pouring over his hands and dick got shot in the knee and had to find tim in an active massacre, and cass lost herself to grief, then from an in-universe perspective while it's easy to for them to blame bruce for the majority of it, it also is true that every single one of those people has the right to question whether she is capable of making good judgements because of the extremely bad one she made that had so many in-universe consequences & they were all victims of it. from an out of universe perspective, it is so, so, so hard to put that kind of culpability on her, though, because of the sexism involved in deciding to make her make those decisions.

(as an aside. you also get this same issue that occurs as a part of the last arc of the robin series--wherein in order to justify steph no longer being spoiler and graduate her to batgirl, they need her to make a mistake so bad it would justify the idea that spoiler is a tainted mantle & she can't go back to it--so they decide that she needs to hire assassins to try and kill tim under batman's orders. now this is stupid & nonsensical, and she makes a mistake like that due to writer sexism thinking that that was the way to go. but her making that mistake and hiring those assassins is essential to the overall self isolation of tim & him being unable to trust her amongst everyone else that he needs to be in the headspace to kick of red robin & steph needs to have made a mistake that taints the spoiler mantle & makes people not want her to be it otherwise why would she become batgirl... it's messy. very messy.)

but because of all the horrific sexism out of universe behind the decision to write her to do these things, you're left with. hm. it is hard to want to make her have any culpability because that would just be entrenching the sexist writing she's had & she was the biggest victim, but to just completely throw it out is to make every other character appear completely irrational and unreasonable when it comes to dealing with steph. and that's truly hard for dc--who, once they make her a headlining character in her own right as batgirl, now has to be a lot more careful when dealing with steph. because if any other character does have reasonable concerns about steph continuing to exist as a vigilante after the decisions she made that sparked off war games, or hire assassins for tim, or etc etc etc then you risk people being like "no, maybe these people have a point. maybe these people shouldn't have to work with her if they feel at all uncomfortable by decisions she made that resulted in truly terrible times for them."

so you end up. dc finally has to do something grand, something triumphant for stephanie's character to make up for the completely atrocious way she was treated before. and you get batgirl 2009, which is a triumph for her character, it's the approval she's always deserved but never given, she finally gets to show all her naysayers that she's worth it--that they were all wrong about her and she deserves to be there just as much as them. and she does deserve a big doylist apology--she was treated terribly & cruelly & it wasn't right for dc editorial to do so. but you run into. hm. this problem of in order to make this big doylist apology work, you need everything that came before it to have happened. because it's a big doylist apology you can't actually have it that those things to have happened because if steph has to prove herself to the naysayers, the naysayers have to be completely wrong about her.

and that's hard given we're in reborn era and bruce is "dead". because in that case, steph's naysayers have to be barbara, tim, & dick. and while steph shouldn't have to prostrate herself for forgiveness & they shouldn't blame her for everything ever (they've all had their own issues where they've made mistakes, some with tragic consequences, and therefore can't call the kettle black), the problem with having to make them her naysayers is that you have to make them unreasonable about her & that's hard to do when they were all victims of something that occurred in part due to a decision she made. you have barbara, who should be able to have reasonable concerns about whether steph is fit for the job because she had to blow up her own sace space because steph sent those letters. but you can't acknowledge that because that would be entrenching the sexism behind that decision. so you make it so barbara is the one in the wrong about her. you have dick, who should not be able to look at stephanie without remembering his little brother calling him, wanting to commit suicide over everything that's happened, without remembering the tim at the edge of the pit, without remembering getting the call-code 619-and realizing that tim's at the site of a massacre occurring at his school and could be dead, and he gets to realize he was completely wrong about her with no consideration to what complicated personal feelings he may have about her on account of his own most precious relationships. you have tim, who does have things to apologize to her about, to be sure, but has to be cast as completely in the wrong despite the things she did having to have happened such as hire assassins & everything he had to endure as a result of her sending those letters. and that's not to say that any of this means that she shouldn't be a vigilante of course, you can't have a double standard where male characters are allowed to make mistakes and continue on regardless of mistakes made and not afford that same grace to female characters. but at the same time, it's uncomfortable to cast barbaba, dick, and tim in the role of naysayers to be overcome because that erases their victimization by the events that had to have happened in order to make it to this point. and again, they don't have to blame her to feel like it's her fault to have reasonable discomfort because discomfort =/= blame, necessarily.

and you get into this entire mess solely because of the decisions didio made because he hated her character and was determined to destroy it. and it's gross! we hate didio! but like. way back to my original thought, in a way, he did succeed a little. because of the horrific things that happened to her due to cruel and gross out of universe editorial decisions, you do have to be extra delicate with the character. you've lost the ability to show steph making any sort of mistake that has significant ramifications because to do so is to go back to war games & all the baggage that that entails. you need to play it incredibly safe with her. she can't be shown to be in the wrong because of the horrific way she was treated. at the same time, you need things to have happened, but you need things to not have happened. it's just a lot of baggage for a character, and there's probably a reason why they still play it safe by sticking her with tim (until they broke up) and now cass. it's uncontroversial after everything she's been put through. idk. i think current continuity is the best chance to finally really do something interesting with her again given that the mistakes of the past are so softened and don't need to be forefront to the character anymore because we are in an era ripe for things happened but they didn't happen, but will they? i don't know.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

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

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

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

Jason scoffed at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

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

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

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

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

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

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

Jason rolled his eyes.

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

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

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

He found that adorable.

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

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

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

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever.”

***

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

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

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

He frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

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

Dick let out a loud groan.

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

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

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

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

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

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

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

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

It was the first time you smiled at him.

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

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

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

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

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

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

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

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason frowned to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

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

Yet, he really wanted to know.

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

But he never got to it.

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

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

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

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

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

Your hair was long now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you want to find me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

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

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

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

Shit.

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

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

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

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

Jason remained silent in shock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

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

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

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

Fuck, he remembered.

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

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

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

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

You finally looked at him.

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

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

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

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

“Favour?”

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

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

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

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

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

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

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

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

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

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

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

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

Jason was taken aback.

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

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

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

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

You strutted away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As expected, you let go of him.

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

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

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

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

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

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

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

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

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

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

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

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

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

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

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

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

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

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

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

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

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

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

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

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

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

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

And you gave him a wicked grin.

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

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

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

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

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

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

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

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

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

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

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

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

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

“And?” Bruce questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now, he let his thoughts free.

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

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

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

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

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

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

But you were still sixteen.

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

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Try not to lick. R.

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

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

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

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

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

Or did he?

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

He swallowed hard.

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

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

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

“Jason.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

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

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

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

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

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

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

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

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

He glanced at the gun next to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

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

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

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about Roy?”

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

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

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

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

“His type?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

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

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

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

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

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

“A chance for what?” he grit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

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

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

“I mean-”

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

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

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

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

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

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

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

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

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

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

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

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

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

“Roy,” Jason growled.

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

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

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

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

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

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He slammed the door shut behind him.

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

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

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

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

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

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

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

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

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

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

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

Your expression softened at that.

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

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You wish,” he said coldly.

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

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

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

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

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

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

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

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

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

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

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

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

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

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

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

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

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

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

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

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

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

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

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

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

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another round of claps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

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

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

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

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

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

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

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

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

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

He turned around to face you.

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

You faced him with curious eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jason.”

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

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

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

“What? How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

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

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

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

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

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

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

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

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

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

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

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

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

And then you bit down hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

“Point taken, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

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

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

Yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Long gone,” you winked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

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

“Any- I don’t care-”

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

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

It was all he could say.

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

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

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

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

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

“What?”

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

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

[omnia19]

Recently absolutely no one has been asking for my opinion on the best Robin, so here it is.

Dick:

While Dick is the OG and probably the most skilled all around in his Robin tenure, he gets points off for being a basic bitch. On a real note he is definitely top two. He was very successful and set the track for the rest of the family, holding the bar high. He outgrew Robin, and though his departure wasn’t graceful, he found success as Nightwing.

Jason:

Ok. Let’s be real. Jason needed to be Robin but Robin didn’t need to be Jason. Being Robin saved Jason from dying as a street kid cause he would have definitely gotten hurt or arrested. His tenure was fine and many old comics show him to be cheery. BUT he was no where as competent as Dick. Dick was an acrobat and fighting came easily with it. Jason… was not. At the end of his run he was showing more of an aggression towards especially nasty bad guys. And of course he was straight up kaboomed. He didn’t die in the pursuit of being a hero he kinda just wanted his mom which is very sad. Awful to say, but Jason became a more competent fighter after he died and overall more interesting 😬. Regarding his Robin tenure it is bottom two for sure.

Tim:

Robin needed this kid. Tim saw that Robin was a necessity at the time and was willing to take it up. He had a happy life but knew someone had to do it. He had no fighting skills but trained his ass of and worked super hard to prove himself around every bend. He put in the work and it showed. Though I am biased as Robin (1993) hit me harder than a brick this kid is top two with Dick. He fought to be better every day and stuck with it through the death of literally everyone he loved.

Steph:

As someone who loves Steph Brown I can say this. She had undoubtedly the worst Robin run. She wasn’t very competent at all and only lasted about 60 days. This can be blamed on Bruce as he never really wanted her to be a vigilante and treated her like crap, but point stands none the less. She got so much better because she trained with Cass and Barb as Batgirl and eventually I think Bruce warmed up. But still gotta say, she is at the bottom.

Damian:

Damian is very competent and could probably beat Dick when he was Robin if not for his arrogance( which is something I think Robin 2021 is working on). It is his attitude and I think that if writers could sit down and agree on a set plot of character growth he would be up with Tim and Dick. He has also like killed a few people during his run soooooo

I love absolutely all of these characters and this is just my opinion on their Robin runs. However the best Robin is no doubt

Jarro, the only Robin to be shown Bruce’s real love

[marauderundercover]

Ice Cream Weekends

Hi, this is just fluff. Pure fluff and nothing else. (Reverse Robins and Bio!dad Bruce)

Ages: Damian (23) Marinette (21) Tim (16) Jason (14) Dick (9)

“Dad, we’ll be fine. It’s one weekend. We’re not helpless.” Marinette reassures her dad, practically pushing him out the door. If he cancelled another trip with Selina, she’d be pissed. And a pissed off Selina means that the wedding is gonna be pushed back and Marinette was not about to let that happen. Not again.

“Are you sure you and Damian can handle the others? And you’re sure I don’t need someone to fill in for Alfred?” He asks, obviously trying to find a reason to stay. Marinette huffs, crossing her arms as she glares up at her dad.

“Are you forgetting that I basically grew up in a French bakery before coming to live with you? Seriously?” She points out, smirking at the resigned look on his face.

“It’s the first time I’ve left Dick alone.” He says softly. She glances behind her, where Dick was currently chasing Jason in an attempt to get him to play tag. Her youngest brother was sweet, and despite the incident at the circus, seemed to be adjusting okay.

“I know. But he’s gonna be fine. I promise.” She says.

“Call me or Selina if you guys need anything. And I mean anything.” He says. She agrees, and waves as he gets into the car. Yeah, she’ll call them. When hell freezes over. She was not about to be the one to ruin their romantic weekend. If they really needed them, she’d make Damian call. He didn’t care about possibly ruining a romantic weekend. Locking the door, she turns and whistles, grinning as her youngest brother runs right to her, standing at attention. The other two trail behind him, neither looking excited.

“Okay men, we have an entire weekend without Dad. Do you know what that means?” She asks, posing to try and mimic a general.

“Ice cream for dinner!” Dick cheers, jumping up and down. Marinette grins.

“Right you are, soldier! What else?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow at Tim.

“No sleep?” He asks, finally smiling.

“Like that’s any different for you.” Jason mumbles with crossed arms.

“Good job boys. And what’s the last thing?” She asks, grinning as they all look confused. Perfect. “Nobody tells Dad!” She cheers, laughing as Dick whoops and starts running in circles.

“Or, you could be responsible like you told Father you would be. Actually make them eat dinner and sleep. Two things that are important for their health.” Damian drawls, walking into the room with his arms crossed. Marinette rolls her eyes.

“Or, you could stop being such a buzzkill.” She suggests. He scowls.

“I am not a buzzkill. I am, however, taking Father’s instructions seriously. Grayson and Todd are both supposed to be in bed no later than eleven.” He says.

“That’s not fair! What about-” Jason argues, clearly about to mention patrol, something he knew he wasn't supposed to mention around Dick. It was bad enough that Jason and Tim had taken up the mantle of Robin at 12. Dick would not be allowed out of the house in costume for several years. No way.

“Father said that Drake and I will handle it. You, Marinette and Grayson will remain here.” Damian says in a no-nonsense tone.

“Come on guys, we’re supposed to be having fun! Dad and Alfred are gone, it’s okay to just relax.” Marinette insists, letting Dick grab her hand as she starts towards the kitchen. “Dick and I are going to make gigantic ice cream sundaes and eat until we get sick. You losers can either join us, or go eat some stupid dinner that Damian buys because I’m not cooking tonight.” She adds, laughing as Dick cheers.

“Yeah losers! Mari and I are the best!” He yells, practically vibrating in excitement. Marinette grins. This was going to be the best weekend ever. Walking into the kitchen, she grabs the stack of special bowls she had bought specifically for this weekend. They were huge, perfect for giant ice cream sundaes and she’d gotten one for each of her siblings. She figured Jason would trail in eventually, if only to get away from Damian. She loved her brothers, truly she did. But every time he had to wear the cowl, Damian got cranky. It was annoying. She may find his uniform as Red Bird disgusting, but he was always more relaxed as his own persona. Pulling out several different types of ice cream and all of the toppings she could find, Marinette grins at the completely covered counter.

“Okay kiddo, how’re we doing this?” She asks, completely prepared to watch her youngest brother slip into a sugar coma.

“Can I have anything?” He asks, eyes wide as he takes everything in.

“Of course.” She says.

“Then I want chocolate ice cream and cookies n cream ice cream and cookie dough ice cream and fruity pebbles ice cream and the peanut butter cup ice cream with hot fudge and marshmallows and caramel and gummy bears and m&ms and whipped cream and a cherry and, oh! Sprinkles! Lots and lots of sprinkles!” He lists off all in one breath. Marinette blinks at him before nodding and beginning to scoop ice cream.

“It’s your sundae, kid.” She says, trying to ignore the nagging thought (that sounds an awful lot like Damian) that this was a horrible idea. She wasn’t going to listen, because that would mean admitting defeat and Dick would probably be upset. So hopefully nothing too bad happens.

“What the hell?” Jason asks, walking in. Marinette frowns.

“Language, Jay.” She reminds him, nodding towards Dick. He rolls his eyes, ruffling Dick’s hair before grabbing a handful of gummy bears.

“Is all that ice cream for him?” He asks, pointing at the huge bowl that she was currently drowning in toppings.

“Yup. Told you guys we’re going to eat ourselves into sugar comas.” She says, passing her little brother his sundae before starting on (a smaller) one for herself.

“Think you can get me a couple scoops of strawberry?” Jason asks after a pause. She looks over at him and grins.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She teases, switching over to getting his ice cream. She glances over at Dick, eyes widening when she sees the huge dent he’s already made in his ice cream. “Hey, slow down kiddo. You’re gonna get a brain freeze.” She says. He nods, but continues shoveling the ice cream in at an alarming rate. Marinette passes Jason his ice cream while sliding a glass of water to Dick. He frowns at it.

“What’s that for?” He asks with a pout as he hugs his ice cream bowl closer.

“It’s so you can slow down. I don’t actually want you in a sugar coma, buddy.” She says softly, he sighs, but still takes a long drink of water. Finishing up the toppings on her sundae, Marinette grins as Tim walks in.

“Does your offer of ice cream for dinner still stand?” He asks, holding a cup of what she knows to be coffee. She hums, turning to the freezer and grabbing the one ice cream she hadn’t offered to Dick.

“Is your favorite flavor still ‘Coffee Bean Blast’ from Trader Joe’s?” She asks, holding the container. Tim nods with a grin, watching as she gets him several large scoops.

“Thanks Mars.” He says, taking the bowl from her and adding his toppings. Hot fudge and chocolate covered espresso beans. She starts putting away the toppings and ice cream so that they won’t melt, knowing the chances of Damian joining them were slim. He’d never really acted like a kid. Not as long as she’d known him. And since he’s Batman for the weekend, he’d be even less likely to do anything fun. Just as she’s closing the last ice cream container, the kitchen door swings open again.

“I think it may be beneficial for our….bond as siblings, if I were to participate in this ice cream for dinner experiment.” Damian says, his face serious as he walks in. Marinette raises an eyebrow in surprise, but grins at her brother.

“What flavor?” She asks. This was going to be the best weekend ever.

---

Bonus: “I blame you for giving him so much sugar!” Damian yells, stacking a smaller stepladder onto their tallest ladder.

“How was I supposed to know the kid would be able to get up onto the chandeliers?” Marinette counters, sticking mattresses underneath where Dick was hanging precariously, a large grin on his ice-cream covered face. Maybe next time she shouldn’t let him have so much ice cream.

@maribat-bdbwm

[hearsthephone]

His smile remained firm, glad that Finn was here even if that was selfish of him. He was grounding. A reminder that there was a world outside of Derry. One that they might be saving if they were successful. Although he didn’t know why IT hadn’t expanded IT’s reach outside of this place, there was always the possibility that IT could. And eventually would. Maybe. 

Bill hadn’t thought about how strange this must be for Finn. The Losers had this ability to seemingly know what each other was thinking. Some of them --- like Bill --- knew what others outside of his friend group were thinking. And feeling. And some of what was to come. It must seem like they were all on a different page than he was and that made sense. Bill just hadn’t thought about it from Finney’s point of view before.

“I’m s-sorry,” he murmured, holding the other just a little closer. “I-I know it must suh-seem like we juh-j-just know what the other’s think-thinking. And it’s k-kinda be-because we cah-can.” Like Finn could talk to dead people through equally dead electronics, they had their own abilities. “The buh-bonding will happen,” Bill agreed with a soft, apologetic, smile.

Finn had heard about Robin, he seemed like a great guy and irrationally Bill hoped that he liked him. That he would approve of what they had developed beyond just being roommates and friends. 

“Guh-guess IT really n-n-needs that nap,” he quipped with a breathy laugh. They reached the Townhouse and Bill pulled open the door for the two of them to pass through hoping that maybe at least one of them would be able to get some sleep. “Did R-Robin say anything eh-helse?” 

"I'm fine, Bill. Don't worry. I get it, honest." He did. Most people didn't stick around him and Gwen long enough to slot themselves into their dynamic, the bond between the siblings so uniquely shaped by what they went through at the hands of the Grabber it took time and care to allow new people to fit in. He imagined it was the same way with the Losers; Finn was patient, though. He could wait long enough to see how he fit in.

He smiled thanks and walked through the door. "Guess so. I'd be hungry and cranky if someone woke me up from a heavy sleep like that, so I theoretically couldn't blame IT." In practice though, he was looking forward to getting rid of the clown forever.

Remember Finn: forward, back, forward, swing. This thing isn't from here, but that doesn't mean IT can't bleed like the rest of us.

"He reminded me of how I got out of the basement." Finn kept his voice low as they walked to their room. The smile was gone, replaced by a firm line. He could joke about a lot, but the last year and a half in Denver wasn't one of them. "It was him that helped me get out. I never told you that, did I? Robin gave me the tips on how to fight that I still use when I need to. Guess I might be needing to again soon."

Finn opened the door to their room, and once they both were inside he all but draped himself over Bill's shoulders. There was a lot to process from the day, and he was still tired from traveling.

"I wish you guys could meet him, he's great. Really funny. Bruce too, but we don't talk much. Vance might give Eddie a heart attack so maybe wait to introduce him..." He grinned into his roommate's shoulder. "Haven't heard from Billy and Griffin in years, so you guys wouldn't be able to meet them unless they reached out. And that's not even guaranteeing that they'd be visible to anyone. But who knows? Maybe one of you has a secret talent you've never gotten to use until the new kid who hears ghosts showed up."

His smile remained firm, glad that Finn was here even if that was selfish of him. He was grounding. A reminder that there was a world outside of Derry. One that they might be saving if they were successful. Although he didn’t know why IT hadn’t expanded IT’s reach outside of this place, there was always the possibility that IT could. And eventually would. Maybe. 

Bill hadn’t thought about how strange this must be for Finn. The Losers had this ability to seemingly know what each other was thinking. Some of them --- like Bill --- knew what others outside of his friend group were thinking. And feeling. And some of what was to come. It must seem like they were all on a different page than he was and that made sense. Bill just hadn’t thought about it from Finney’s point of view before.

“I’m s-sorry,” he murmured, holding the other just a little closer. “I-I know it must suh-seem like we juh-j-just know what the other’s think-thinking. And it’s k-kinda be-because we cah-can.” Like Finn could talk to dead people through equally dead electronics, they had their own abilities. “The buh-bonding will happen,” Bill agreed with a soft, apologetic, smile.

Finn had heard about Robin, he seemed like a great guy and irrationally Bill hoped that he liked him. That he would approve of what they had developed beyond just being roommates and friends. 

“Guh-guess IT really n-n-needs that nap,” he quipped with a breathy laugh. They reached the Townhouse and Bill pulled open the door for the two of them to pass through hoping that maybe at least one of them would be able to get some sleep. “Did R-Robin say anything eh-helse?” 

"I'm fine, Bill. Don't worry. I get it, honest." He did. Most people didn't stick around him and Gwen long enough to slot themselves into their dynamic, the bond between the siblings so uniquely shaped by what they went through at the hands of the Grabber it took time and care to allow new people to fit in. He imagined it was the same way with the Losers; Finn was patient, though. He could wait long enough to see how he fit in.

He smiled thanks and walked through the door. "Guess so. I'd be hungry and cranky if someone woke me up from a heavy sleep like that, so I theoretically couldn't blame IT." In practice though, he was looking forward to getting rid of the clown forever.

Remember Finn: forward, back, forward, swing. This thing isn't from here, but that doesn't mean IT can't bleed like the rest of us.

"He reminded me of how I got out of the basement." Finn kept his voice low as they walked to their room. The smile was gone, replaced by a firm line. He could joke about a lot, but the last year and a half in Denver wasn't one of them. "It was him that helped me get out. I never told you that, did I? Robin gave me the tips on how to fight that I still use when I need to. Guess I might be needing to again soon."

Finn opened the door to their room, and once they both were inside he all but draped himself over Bill's shoulders. There was a lot to process from the day, and he was still tired from traveling.

"I wish you guys could meet him, he's great. Really funny. Bruce too, but we don't talk much. Vance might give Eddie a heart attack so maybe wait to introduce him..." He grinned into his roommate's shoulder. "Haven't heard from Billy and Griffin in years, so you guys wouldn't be able to meet them unless they reached out. And that's not even guaranteeing that they'd be visible to anyone. But who knows? Maybe one of you has a secret talent you've never gotten to use until the new kid who hears ghosts showed up."

[toastedside]

Banana Toast

Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader

I was reading Super Sons the other day and this particular fic come into my mind right after. Just imagining the talk that come after sneaking out the night fighting Kid Amazo.

You watched Damian stepped out of the car with perpetual scowl on his face. He still wears his full armour Robin suit, with domino mask and all. You and Alfred had just picked him up from the Kent an hour ago after he snuck out for the night, roped Jon into an impromptu dangerous mission.

You suppressed a shiver. You didn’t want to imagine the worst, you had it all before. You were grateful that neither Jon nor Damian had suffered any lethal injuries. Few cuts here and there and probably a bruised shoulder, but nothing lethal.

Lois was livid when three of you had caught them climb up the window towards Jon’s room. You had been too, more so when you found out they were chasing after an Amazo wannabe and provoking Lex Luthor. Lois took all the shouting and scolding role that morning while you went full on injuries inspection and Alfred full on disappointed frown.

This is a mission where any one of them should have called their fathers. Jon argued that he tried to do so, but Damian was against the idea. It did not surprise you a little bit. If anything, you had always known the boy practically bleed for validation.

“In this kind of moment is the moment I truly believe that he is Master Bruce’s son,” Alfred’s voice came from behind. You whipped your head and smiled. “The utter stubbornness they both possess is astounding.”

“And their knack to make me worry is more or less the same.”

You found Damian fresh out of shower almost half an hour later, rummaged through the kitchen cabinet looking for some food. You silently watched him from behind, reading all of his body language from here. You knew he wasn’t exactly sorry about what he did, nor he feels the need to, but he was pretty pissed and awful with the consequence he brought after.

Or the reaction he received from others, for the lack thereof.

“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to give me lectures too?” Damian asked without bother to turned around.

“Would you like some banana toast for breakfast?” You simply smiled as you went through the kitchen cabinet to grab some wheat bread.

“Banana toast?”

“Basically, it’s a toast with peanut butter and banana, add chocolate if you feel fancy,” you explained. “It’s a comfort food I invented during my college days. I eat it whenever I feel down or upset. You want some?”

Damian thought for a while. “Yes, please. That sounds good.”

You spent few minutes in silence as you put your comfort food on work. Damian sat behind on the chair watching you solemnly, probably went through hundreds of probable scenarios from this. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that he had always on high alert for a thirteen-year-old.

It gave you some time to think too. A part of you wanted nothing more but to yell to get the point across, but you also recognized that he had taken some blows from Lois before. Yelling to get the point across would be a contra productive thing to do where it would’ve done nothing but push him away further.

You were disappointed, nonetheless. A little betrayed at the fact that he had to snuck out and breach an agreement. And Damian didn’t try to look at you in the eyes, not even when you slid the warm toast towards him. Shame, probably, or guilt, you didn’t know.

“Damian, you do realize that you broke off an agreement with me and your father, right?” You started. Your voice was soft and calm, you tried your best to remain civil.

“I know,” his voice was firm. As if he had prepared for this inevitable conversation.

“May I know why?”

“Father hadn’t let me to go out for patrol with him!” Damian’s voice was thick with disappointment, a dash of anger, but surprisingly he didn’t raise his voice. “I just want to do good out there. I saved a family from their own demise tonight; you can’t blame me for that!”

“You do know exactly why your father didn’t let you go out for patrol with him. You’ve been ditching schools and is five assignments behind.”

“I don’t need school! It’s stupid! I already know the whole thing; I can easily have master degree by age seven!”

“I don’t doubt that a little bit. You’re indeed very smart. You can easily outsmart me and your father, even,” you nodded in acknowledgement. “But we need you to understand that school is not only for your academic learning, there are a lot of things to learn outside just knowing. Including gaining soft skills and build connections too. Befriend with someone your age.”

“I don’t do friends! Besides, isn’t that what superhero groups are? Isn’t me in Teen Titan enough?”

“Emphasize on the ‘someone your age’ a little bit more, darling. Most of the Titans are older than you. You don’t exactly call Starfire someone your age now, do you?” You smiled. “And you do friends. Jon is the living proof.”

Damian scowls a little bit. “We’re not friends.”

“That’s what your father says about Superman at first. Look at them now, attached by the hip if you ask me.”

Damian smiled slightly at that. Or anything that resemble a smile. He quietly munched on his banana toast, silently marveling at the taste and let the information sink in.

“We also need you to understand that your action last night, while outstanding in the field, still have consequences.”

“Am I grounded?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t I already grounded for ditching school?”

“Doesn’t mean you’ll get out of this clean,” you said. Damian groaned. “No patrol for next two weeks, and you’re going to school. Catch up with your assignments.”

“Two weeks?” Damian screeched in protest. “That’s too long! What if–”

“Unless you are needed in the field out of immediate emergency, you are not allowed for patrol otherwise. I know you’re Robin, but you are also my and your father’s son. You live under our roof, and you go with the rules too. We’ve talked about this hundred times already and you were agreeing,” you pointed out. “I trust you, Damian. Your father trust you. And it would mean a lot for us if you able to maintain that. One of the ways is by not sneaking out in the night and fighting bunch of robots with your friend.”

“Right,” Damian muttered slowly, defeated. “I am sorry, Mom.”

“Apology accepted, darling. Now go finish your breakfast and catch some sleep. You can join me in the clinic this afternoon if you want to, you can bring Jon over if his parents allow him to.”

“Can I meet Peanut the clinic dog, then?”

“You can try to train her some tricks you taught Titus if you want to.”

Damian’s spirit seemed to be lifted up by the promise. He eagerly finished his breakfast and went straight to his room, this time to catch some sleep hopefully. You let out a relieved sigh, the conversation went better than you had anticipated. By the look Alfred sent you when you brought the empty plates over, you thought he was agreeing too.

Well, raising bunch of vigilante kids definitely never cross your mind, or even a life you expected to have. But looking back, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[catxsnow]

FLIRTING GETS YOU NOWHERE J.T.

Request: Hey, can you please write a Jason Todd, Titans, where the reader is a badass fighter, a vigilante by the name of Spitfire that joins the Titans because Dick is like her older brother and she immediately builds this flirting relationship with Jason? He likes her a LOT and so does she and he feels like he doesn't deserve her and then after he and Dick have a fight the reader goes to console Jason and he tells her he loves her? With a little bit of smut?

Warning: implied smut, swearing, flashbacks of injury and near death, lil angst, lil fluff

A/N: My favourite thing about writing for Titans Jason is he’s still pre-trauma 😩😭 

Word count: 4.1k

Dick had no intentions of bringing you into his life. He met you back when he was a Titan, before Jericho - before everything. Just a kid with no home and no future. Dick gave you a future, he gave you something worth living for. A purpose. The team adored you, Dawn pulled you in just as close as Dick had. 

They trained you, brought you up to speed on the skills they had been working on for years. Sure, they were mad for brining a kid into this life - but what other choice did he have? Dick couldn't just leave you to fend for yourself, not when there was something that he could do about it.

You picked up on it all rather quickly. Joining them in fights, getting your own suit and name. It wasn't a life that you thought you would ever be a part of... but damn did you love it. It was a thrill, all of it. Being a completely new person when wearing the mask and getting lost in it all.

And then Jericho happened. All of you using him to get closer to Slade. Failing more than you ever thought possible. Losing Garth, losing Jericho, nearly losing you. It broke everyone apart - literally. Donna went her own way, Hank and Dawn together. Dick so desperately tried to leave you to live a better life.

You couldn't leave him, not after everything he's done for you. Dick tried to leave you - he really did. You knew him better than that, following him wasn't hard and once you were knocking on his door in Detroit he couldn't say no. Everyone blamed him for Jericho - for you - but you couldn't. Dick felt guilt every time he looked at you.

Five years passed with him. Five long years of working yourself back up to the same person that you once were. Five years of surgeries, therapy, anything so you could go back to being a hero. Dick was with you through it all, supporting you every step of the way and apologizing even more.

And when Rachel found Dick, everything changed. Your whole five years of starting a new life away from the Titans and your past was snatched away before your eyes. Travelling the country with Dick and Rachel, finding Kori and Gar. Seeing your old friends for the first time since that night in the hospital.

New people, new name, new suit. Same old place that reminded you of the night Slade nearly killed you.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Jay."

Jason Todd. Second Robin. Dick didn't like him, not a first. Maybe because he was still mad at Bruce - maybe because Jason took an instant liking towards you. How could he not? Jason flirted his way into your life and Dick hated that you flirted right back. Over your time together, you had truly become his little sister.

He didn't trust Jason - not with you.

You were too good for someone like Jason. A heart of gold and a smile to match. Dick failed to see the similarities in you, not because he couldn't see them but because he refused to accept it. You and Jason both took this whole vigilante life as a game. Something to do because you could do whatever you wanted under that mask.

With Slade, you learned quickly that this wasn't a game. People got hurt, they died. Being a hero was real and it was dangerous. After meeting Jason, how lively he was, you hoped he never had to meet the same fate as you - or worse. Years of knee braces and crutches. It was horrible - all because you took it as a game.

"I can show you better elsewhere, babe," Jason threw another punch towards you, a coy smile on his face as you both bounced around on the mats. He started his training with Bruce a couple years after you started with Dick. However, he had all the years in between to keep his training up - you had just stated again less than a year ago. He was well in advantage.

You tried to throw a cross at him but Jason seemed to already be expecting your move. He grabbed your wrist and in a split second pulled you so your back was flat against his chest. His breathing was heavy from your spar. Jason's breath caught in his throat as your fingers grazed over his thigh.

"Promise?" You teased. Before he could answer, you elbow jutted into his abs. He released his hold on you and was distracted long enough that you could easily bring him down. Before Jason could even realize what had happened, he was on the ground in a leg lock. "I thought you were better than this? The great Robin taken down so quickly."

"You got lucky this time, Spitfire."

You released Jason from your hold, popping up and giving him a hand. "I think I kicked you ass enough for one day." Sweat drenched your body and your muscles were already aching. It had been far longer than you thought that you were in the ring with Jason - time seemed to fly with him.

"Wanna join me in the shower?" Jason raised an eyebrow. He asked that nearly every time you trained with him. Most of the time he was only joking, the others you were sure that he was hoping you would actually say yes. He loved to flirt with you, he liked to flirt with everyone, but you? You were his favourite.

It came so easy to him when he was with you. Words of adoration and praise always filled his mind when thinking of you. Since the moment he met you it was easy.

"Is this a bad time?" Gar's green hair peaked through the entrance of the training room. He looked between you and Jason, only inches apart from on another. Your flirtatious relationship with Jason didn't go unknown to everyone else on the team. Dick hated it, Kori thought it was adorable, your old team members couldn't bother looking you in the eye long enough to have an opinion.

"We were just leaving," you looked back to Jason. The grin on his face widened as he thought that you agreed to his offer. It fell as you spoke again, "to our separate rooms, to shower separately."

"You'll say yes one day, babe."

><

Dick loved to tell you how much he didn't like you hanging out with Jason. He didn't like your late nights of sharing music in his room. Your hours of sparring that were a little too personal for the ring. He didn't like walking in to the living room of the tower to see you and Jason half-cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

He tried to get Kori to agree with him, though she stayed out of it. Dick was several years older than you, but he still saw you as nothing but that little kid he picked up all those years ago. Jason was everything that he didn't want to see in you. He didn't want him to taint your life, not that he could stop it.

It lead to it's fights. Dick trying to control you life just like he always had. You being stubborn, yelling at him. There were a lot of times that you wondered if it would have been easier if you never met him, he was too much of a pain in the ass to bare sometimes. Yet you owed him everything.

Jason found you in the med bay. He'd been looking around for you all evening and couldn't find you anywhere. This was the last place he expected to see you. He stood at the door, watching you pull off the knee brace he saw you wear sometimes. It was obvious that you tried to hide it from everyone.

"What do you need, Jason?" You asked, back towards him but not needing to turn to see that it was him. Jason pushed himself off the frame of the door and leaned on the table across from you. His arms were crossed over his chest but he didn't hold his usual cocky smile. He looked concerned. "You can ask."

"Does it still hurt?" It wasn't the question that you were expecting. Dick never told anyone the full story about what happened between you and Slade. He felt it to be your story to tell, not his. Jason knew the bits and pieces, but he didn't know everything. If you wanted to tell him, you would.

"Only when I breathe," you tried to joke. Jason didn't laugh, instead he sat down on the bed next to you. "It's not a big deal, I've been living with it for nearly six years." It only occurred to him in that moment how young you were when this happened - you were just a kid who nearly couldn't get back up ever again.

He watched your eyes seal shut, trying to hide any noise of pain when standing up. Without a word, Jason swooped you up and carried you back to your room so you didn't have to put pressure back on your knee. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, but I wanted to," Jason half smiled. He sprawled out on the end of your bed, staring up at your ceiling. Your legs rested across his, but you mimicked his position. "Do you think he's really dead?"

"If he's not, he will be if I ever see him again," you spoke. Jason leaned up on his elbows to look at you. He was shocked to hear you speak of such harsh words. However, he couldn't blame you for that. Slade took away years of your life - if you ever saw him again revenge almost felt necessary. "I'm not that same kid anymore."

"I know," Jason stated. "You need me, I'm there."

"I'll hold you too that," You finally peaked up at him. A smile rode his face and you couldn't help but join. Things were easier with Jason. He was always so easy to talk to. After everything that the both of you had been through, you got a new level understanding - one that you didn't get with Dick.

"I'll hold you against anything if you ask nicely," Jason winked. He laughed at your poor attempt to kick him off your bed. The movement struck pain through you and he quickly noticed your wince. His laughter diminished instantly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just... just not a good day apparently," you grimaced. Jason carefully propped your knee up on his laps. Ugly scars laid thick on your skin, your knee was visibly swollen. Training the day before you had gone harder than you should have. Jason's fingers were cold as he traced over the lines.

The pads of his thumbs pressed into your sore muscles, massaging them as if he had known pain like yours his whole life. Your head tilted back, eyes closed shut at the release of pain. His hands were like ice against your skin but god did it feel so good. The aching pain that never went away simmered with his motions.

"Feel good?" Jason asked. You nodded, enjoying the feeling of relaxation that hadn't seemed to come to you for a long time. "Can make you feel even better later if you want."

"You never stop, do you?" You chuckled.

"Not when it comes to you babe," Jason winked again as you peaked your eyes open. This time, you couldn't stop your smile. He was cute, you had to give him that. Just as he was about to speak again, a clearing of a throat caught your attention. Dick was standing at your door, arms crossed, lips pursed.

He saw the brace out again, he wanted to ask how you were feeling - but seeing you wish Jason only frustrated him. Luckily, he hadn't heard the comment that Jason had just made to you. He cleared his throat, catching both of your guys attention. "Came to check how you were feeling," He forced out. "Jason, a word?"

"He's fine, Dick," you looked up at him. You knew the look - the 'protective brother mode' look. It was the most annoying face he seemed to make - and he had a lot of those. Jason retracted his hands from your knee, though you missed his touch instantly. "I'm fine. Same as I am every day. Jason was just giving me a hand."

Dick’s eyes narrowed and he was evidently frustrated. Jason quickly picked up on the tension in the room and cleared his throat. He stood up from the bed, careful not to touch your knee at all. "I told Gar and Rachel I would teach them stuff anyways, it's fine," he assured you. 

Dick stared Jason down as he left your room. His glanced flashed over to you before looking down at your knee. Guilt filled him, just as it always did. 

"Rest up."

><

Whatever Dick talked to Jason about it must have stuck with him. Jason stopped being his usual flirty self. He lost his smile when he was around you, he changed. It had been weeks since you had your 'flirt battle' as Gar liked to call them and you missed it. Whatever was going on inside his head, it wasn't good.

Whenever you tried to bring it up with him, he promised he was okay. 'I'm tired' 'I'm just sore from yesterday' any excuse that tried to make up for his behavior. You knew him well enough to know it was a lie and that Dick had to have said something to him to make him this way. When you asked Dick, he promised that he said nothing to Jason to make him this way.

As much as he annoyed you, Dick didn't lie - not to you. Whatever Jason was thinking, it was completely on him. Which made you even more worried - when he got lost in his thoughts he was gone.

So, as days, weeks passed, you kept on by yourself. Jason kept his distance from you and by extension, the whole team. You were his biggest link to staying connected with everyone and now that was severed. Everyone noticed the shift in dynamic between the both of you and were left just as confused.

It wasn't just Jason's distance that everyone was noticing - it was his aggression. Jason going out on patrol just like he used to. You were at his side, though silence over took the both of you. He would ask if your knee was up to the task that night before leaving and after that he said nothing.

He was aggressive out there. Throwing punches that were harder and longer than needed. Relentless against some asshole that probably deserved it - but wasn't necessary. You were worried about him. So worried that you finally had to cave and go tell Dick the truth of what was going on when you were there with him.

As badly as you didn't want to make Jason even more upset at you, this path he was going down wasn't a good one. If there was something that you could do to help, then it was worth the risk. Unfortunately for you, Jason reacted exactly like you expected him to when Dick confronted him.

He was rash, harsh - yelling at Dick that he was fine and that you and him both should mind your own business. Neither of you wanted to get Bruce involved but if it needed to happen, you would go to that extent. Jason rushed off back to his room, slamming his door shut as he did so.

You peaked your head out from your own room. Dick was standing in the middle of the hall, defeat on his face from how poorly the conversation went. He looked at you, hoping that you'd have a solution to this growing problem. Neither of you wanted to see Jason like this - especially when you didn't know where it came from.

With a sigh, you stood in front of Jason's door and knocked. There was no answer, even so when you tried a second time. You looked over at Dick a final time before twisting the handle to let yourself in. To your surprise, the door wasn't locked. With final 'good luck' nod from Dick, you slipped into the room.

Jason was standing at his window, staring out of it and completely unaware of your presence. His shoulders were tense; he held himself as if the whole world was trying to tear him down piece by piece. As if everyone and everything were against him every second of the day without an escape.

You saw the same in Dick. They were more similar than either of them would ever like to admit. Both trying to fight against the world one handed while holding everyone up with the other. They didn't want help - not because they didn't think they needed it - but because sharing a burden like that was too painful.

"Jason."

He tensed at the sound of your voice. Refusing to look at you as if you were the last person he wanted to see. As if your time together these past several months meant absolutely nothing to him. God you hoped it wasn't true. Jason was everything to you, and these past few weeks without him made it so easy to realize that.

"Jay, please. You've been shutting me out for weeks," You stepped closer to him. "I just want to help, I want to know what's going on." Your fingers ghosted over his, debating whether or not to enclose his hand in yours. He answered it for you, retracting away from your touch like you were poison.

"You deserve someone better than me," Jason finally whispered out. You could barely hear him, the pain in his voice was so evident it hurt you. "I don't deserve to be around someone like you."

"Jason where did this come from?" You asked. Was this why he was so distant to you? Jason tricked himself into believe that he didn't deserve you at all. Dick hadn't meant to spark the thought within him, but it had happened. An offside comment about how good of a person you were and Jason realized just how right he was.

Jason was nothing but a darkness that tainted your light. He wanted to believe that, make it easier to push himself away from you so you could be better off in the grand scheme of things. It was far from the truth. Jason showed you a real happiness that you hadn't experienced since your time with the original Titans.

He showed you what it meant to live again without being held back by fear or pain. Jason showed you what it was like to feel loved for who you were, not who you used to be. He was there through the pain of your old wounds and ready to catch before you got new ones. You were the one who didn't deserve someone like him.

"Dick-"

"Doesn't know what he's talking about," you cut him off before he could try to reiterate what Dick had said to him. You didn't want to hear it because none of it was true. Dick always thought he knew what was best for you and he didn't. "I care about you, Jason. I've never cared for someone so much in such a short amount of time and it scares the hell out of me. But if there's one thing I'm certain about - it's that you're going to be by my side through it all."

Jason didn't say anything. You were scared that your words spooked him and that maybe he didn't care about you in the same way. Maybe all of his flirts were truly just harmless. You sighed, worried that all this was for null. Jason didn't want to be saved, he never did.

"I love you," he quietly muttered out as if he was scared to say it, scared to see what you had to say about it. Jason was scared that you were going to leave him just as everyone else in his life did. He was scared that he was going to disappoint you - or even worse - ruin you. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, "I'm in love with you."

"Then why walk away from me?" You grabbed his hands, forcing him to look at you fully since you had walked into his room. "Why assume that I never felt the same way? Or let Dick choose your path for you?"

"I thought you'd be better off."

"I'm better off with you."

Your hands trailed up his arms, his chest, until reaching his cheeks. He held a strong façade, but you knew what hid behind it. Fear, trauma, desperation for acceptance. Jason was a wall when he wanted to be, but with you, he felt like it could all crumble down and he would be better off in the end.

In less than a moment, Jason had grasped the back of your neck, pulling you so close towards him that no air could fir between. His lips rashly pushed against yours, desperate for you touch. The months worth of buildup to this moment were worth every second of waiting. This was what he needed.

The pounding in his chest was so profound you swore you could feel it against your own. You couldn't focus on the small breaths of air that you desperately needed between movements, only how addictive he was. The shaking in your knees at how divine he felt completely pressed against you was nothing compared to the unsteadiness of his hands.

Scared that this was a dream, scared that you would think this only to be a mistake because of a build up of guilt that she had. Jason couldn't let this be a one time thing, he couldn't.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, lips grazing over yours. His hand at the back of your neck fell to your waist.

"I want you Jason. I want to be with you," you assured. It was enough, those few words were enough for him to give himself up to you completely. His fingers squeezed into your waist, tugging you up so you'd jump into him. Legs wrapped around his waist as he walked you both to his bed.

He encased you on his bed, arms on either side of you. Jason's kisses became deeper as he grew more confident. A shudder went down his spine as your fingers trailed down his chest until reaching the him of his t-shirt. He pulled away for only a second to pull off the material before going straight back to your lips.

Your hips lifted off his bed, desperate to meet his. Jason groaned at the slightest brush of your jeans. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he pressed down to meet you. The tightness of his jeans was so evident. His lips planted along your neck, wet kisses left in his wake until reaching a small spot that made you breath hitch.

You could feel his grin against your skin before he paid more attention there. His hips ground into yours as he nipped and sucked. You reached for his buckle, needing more of this delicious sensation that he was providing you. Jason cried out as you grasped him through his underwear.

He helped you pull away his jeans as well as your own top. Clothes scattered across his floor, no longer caring about anything else besides you. "You're so damn beautiful," Jason trailed up with kisses as he undid your jeans.

"I thought you learned by now that flirting gets you nowhere," you teased. Your finger tipped his chin up, encouraging him to pull himself up to kiss you. His body fit so perfectly against yours, as if your curves were pieces of the same puzzle and he was the link you had always been missing. "Pretty boy."

"Flirting gets you nowhere," he mocked you.

"Got me here, didn't it?"

[night-fallz]

We’re Tired of Him

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

We’re Tired of Him (part 3)

Unlike a lot of people, Dick didn’t think that Damian was a spawn born from hell.

He was still, after all, a kid.

But sometimes, even he had to agree that Damian could be a bit… much for a lot of people.

So Dick didn’t blame them when they made their opinions of him clear.

But Dick also knew that if Damian loosened up a bit and held back with his provocative remarks, he would finally make friends with people that weren’t forced to hang out with him in the first place.

It honestly shouldn’t be as difficult as it was.

During Dick’s time as Batman, he managed to see a softer side of Damian. He was understanding towards the victims, knowing when he should stop or continue pushing for information.

If he brought out that side of him more often, Dick knew that people might actually begin to tolerate him.

Not just as Robin, but as Damian Wayne as well.

He’s heard Bruce’s complaints of how many fights Damian has been in at the Academy. How many times Bruce had to pay them off just so that Damian could keep attending.

Dick didn’t understand!

He knew that a lot of the kids there could be a bit brutal. But Damian was the biological son of Bruce Wayne! The kids and faculty members there were probably sucking it up to Damian. He had no doubt in his head that they treated him like a prince.

After all, people would do anything to get a percentage of the Wayne fortune.

He’s had this talk with Damian so many times. But he guessed that he just ignored Dick’s lecture, once more.

When will Damian realize that just because people treated him better than how they would normally treat other people-

It didn’t mean that he should start fights just because for the sake of it.

He mentally instructed himself to talk to Damian after this whole plan. This time, he would make sure that Damian was listening.

Even if Dick had to blackmail him.

For a while, Damian might not be able to tolerate him for a while but he’ll soon realize that it was for his own good. He’ll realize that everything is easier when people don’t hate you.

Dick was just looking out for his little brother. Was that so bad?

His hand knocked against the wooden door and when he received no answer, he carefully pulled it open.

Damian liked to keep his room to himself.

Usually, he didn’t let anyone but Alfred in but sometimes…

Sometimes, he would allow Dick the privilege of entering for a few minutes before quickly kicking him out.  

Dick was never allowed in Damian’s room long enough for him to take in the vast space.

He could hear the shower running nearby.

Dick walked around the room. It was so disappointing. So empty.

It wasn’t personalized at all.

The desk was the only thing that showed that it wasn’t a guest room. But that it was, in fact, Damian’s room.

Crunched-up papers and pens were scattered all over the surface.

If crunching up papers were considered murder, Damon would’ve broken the code several times.

What did those papers ever do to him?

He was about to reach for one when his gaze caught Damian’s sketchbook on the chair.

Aside from his katanas, these sketchbooks were some of the assassin’s prized possessions.

But Dick was sure that Damian wouldn’t mind if he took a peek or two.

He knew that Damian was talented when it came to art but these sketches were on a whole other level.

Damian drew better than a lot of professional artists. Hell, Dick knew that a lot of them wished that they could achieve Damian’s level one day.

He flipped through the book, stopping at a page where Damian drew everyone.

It was breathtaking.

Damian made sure to include everyone in the family. He even included Alfred, Steph, and Kate!

Dick pulled out his phone to take a picture so that he could show it to Bruce later.

He smiled at the photo before furrowing his brows when he realized that someone was missing.

After a few seconds of confusion, his brain finally registered that Damian wasn’t in the drawing.

Did Damian forget to add himself?

Or maybe he just didn’t like drawing himself. He’s heard about how hard it can be to draw your own face.

Something to do with perception and stuff.

That couldn’t be it though. He looked at the previous sketches. Damian didn’t have any trouble drawing himself. Not when he drew that many pages with him and Talia hugging.

So maybe-

“Huh,” he muttered under his breath. “Then this page was probably incomplete.”

His mind ignored how the drawing didn’t look incomplete. At all.

It was professionally shaded and the background was even colored, bringing out the smiling faces of each member.

If Dick looked closely enough, he swears that Damian accidentally spilled a drop of water in the paper.

He shrugged off his thoughts. He was probably just imagining the water drops.

Everyone knew just how careful Damian was when it came to his drawings.

He’ll still show the picture to Bruce though. Who knows, the man might have Damian draw him the new family portrait.

Maybe they can use it as a father-son bonding day.

His eyes caught the time on the corner of his screen. It was almost time for them to meet up at the tower.

A frown made its way onto his face, how long has Damian been in the shower?

He must take his self-care very seriously.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Damian’s phone on his bed. The screen was constantly lighting up, filling up with notifications.

Maybe Damian did have friends.

Dick wanted to walk towards the bed to see just who was texting his brother but he managed to stop himself.

Instead, he cautiously knocked on the bathroom door, hoping Damian will realize that someone is waiting so that he could hurry up.

They had a limited timeframe, after all.

“I’ll be there soon Alfred!” he heard Damian’s voice call out.

“Sorry, but I’m not Alfred.”

No one replied for a few seconds before Damian’s disbelieving voice filled the room as the bathroom door flew open. “Grayson?”

Damian stepped out and Dick managed to sneak a peek of how fogged up everything was. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes softened at the sight of the kid in front of him, “Do I need an excuse to visit my brother?”

Damian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking every bit the bratty assassin that people thought he was.

“I’m not up for your silly little games tonight.” the boy sneered up at him.

Dick pouted, his eyes naturally widening and his lips began to quiver. “Please Dami.” he pleaded, “I just want to spend some time with my brother.”

Something flashed in Damian’s eyes that Dick couldn’t decipher but he ignored it. He had one mission and he couldn’t mess it up.

“Well, I don’t want to spend time with you.” Damian growled in annoyance, “Now if you excuse me, I have to go do... something.”

It was at times like this that Dick’s patience ran thin with the little assassin, but he still forced a grin upon his face.

It was obvious that Damian was lying. As far as Dick knew, he didn’t hang out with anyone but Jon.

… and the Titans. But he honestly doesn’t think they count. The enjoyment was just not mutual.

“Since you have nothing better to do, let’s go hang out with your friends.”

He was lying through his teeth— from what Wally has said, the Titans don’t consider Robin as a friend- but Bruce did always teach them to use everything at their disposal so he didn’t feel too guilty about it.

Dick lifted Damian easily. “I already asked Dad. So come on! I want to meet your team.”

Damian struggled for a while before giving up.“It’s not like I have a choice.” he grumbled.

After a few minutes, Damian couldn’t help but ask, “Can you put me down?”

“Nope.”

Dick kept his face to stay neutral, not wanting Damian to see how excited he was.

After tonight, they would finally figure out just how Talia raised Damian and it’ll be so much easier for Dick to help him.

So much easier for Dick to get Damian to act like the kid he’s supposed to be.

He couldn’t wait.

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

Note:

Sorry for the late chapter. The past two weeks have been very busy. Honestly, this whole summer has been busy. (Remember when I thought I would be having a boring summer? HAH! As if. At least my vsco is flourishing with all my captured memories.)

Let’s talk about this chapter shall we.

Dick’s heart is in the right place— kinda. But he’s definitely not approaching this situation the right way.

Someone please guess in the comments about what the crunched up papers are. I was gonna have Dick un-crumple one but I was like, it’s not the time for that just yet.

This chapter was shorter than normal. It was only 1,400 words and I try to reach a goal of 2,500 words for every chapter but I didn’t really know how to add more from Dick’s perspective.

(please comment any ideas, feedback, and criticism that you have. i love reading them. and if you see any spelling errors, please mention them in the comments. I don't have a beta reader so I mostly miss those things)

[that-milo-kid]

Day 9: “I needed you”

Warnings: Lots of swearing, also references to what Bruce did while ‘convincing’ Dick to join Spyral

Fandom: DCU (Batfam)

Word Count: 1023

Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne

Notes: i absolutely despise the fact that Bruce just beat the shit out of his kid and then Dick got all the blame for spyral, so here is my frustration in story form <3

The Gotham skyline was a comforting sight, which is something Dick never thought he’d say.

He stood on top of some office building – he could recall the name if he cared enough to, but his mind was elsewhere. He could feel the cold wind that swept through the city, a stark contrast to Blüdhaven’s typically warmer weather. He supposed that was enough to draw contrast between the two cities. Blüdhaven was fiery temperatures and high humidity, while Gotham was icy winds and cold that felt like it seeped into your skin and your bones until there was no warmth left.

After a childhood spent in the cold, the warmth of Blüdhaven was something he’d come to appreciate. He liked to pretend he could ever truly warm again (he knew fully well that the cold was nestled too deep in his heart for that). It never stopped him from going back to Gotham, however.

The night’s visit was not one of leisure, much like it was not a voluntary one. Batman had asked for Nightwing’s presence for a debrief after his mission in Spyral.

It wasn’t Bruce needing Dick. It never was, not really. It was Batman needing a fellow vigilante. Nothing about their relationship was personal, and it probably never really would again. Not after what Bruce had done. He understood what would happen if he sent Dick to Spyral, and he did it anyway.

Dick remembered a mission he had been on with Bruce when he was still Robin, still young and optimistic and warm. They had been going after a well-known drug dealer in Gotham’s criminal circles, an older man. His son was involved in is business, and when Batman and Robin had caught them, the boy begged for forgiveness. He didn’t want to do it, he said – he was forced into it. He had no choice.

Robin barely even considered asking Batman if they could help him. He knew the answer was no.

Bruce had said later that night that children always had a choice. They could end up like their parents, or they could fight to carve their own path. He said that the boy hadn’t fought to carve his own path, and his weakness was his own downfall. Dick sometimes wondered if he’d end up like Bruce, if he’d fought hard enough to carve his own path.

Seeing as how he was 22 and had already died, he reckoned that he was definitely doing worse.

Was that his fault that he was following in Bruce’s footsteps as an emotionally crippled, mentally unstable maniac? Was it down to his inability to carve his own path, or Bruce’s downfalls in raising him? Because giving a revenge crazed nine year old a superhero costume and sending him out to fight bad guys is definitely not how you raise a healthy, stable child.

He wondered how different he really was to the boy, sometimes. Their fathers (father figures, Dick mentally corrected himself. He was never adopted) had handed them a piece of their fucked up business, and the sons had met their downfalls with them.

A small noise next to him and the small shift in the roof beneath his feet told Dick that Bruce was here. That Batman was here. The two of then stood, shoulder to shoulder, in silence for a few seconds. Dick felt wildly uncomfortable.

The cold was everywhere in Gotham.

“Nightwing,” Batman’s gruff voice had started. “I’m glad you agreed to meet. We need to discuss– ”

“I needed you.”

The silence turned from cold to shocked in a split second. Dick couldn’t find it in himself to hold back anymore.

“I fucking – I had just been killed. Murdered by Lex Luthor, and the first godforsaken thing you do is, is– ” He has to stop himself from smacking the shit out of Batman, who’s stun was visible through his cowl. “The first fucking thing you do is beat the shit out of me, before sending me to be a spy for your stupid little fucking mission. And of top of all that, you let Jason and Tim and Damian and Steph and – all of them, my fucking family Bruce, you let them think I was…”

He let his hands fall from where he’d been gesturing wildly. His arms hung uselessly at his sides, all the fight gone from him. It had been Bruce’s fault.

Bruce still stood there at his side, looking at him with wide eyes through the cowl. It was the most outwardly expressive Bruce had been in years, and Dick had to fight an inappropriate laugh at the thought. Dick continued to look at the skyline, refusing to meet Bruce’s eyes.

“You’re clearly upset Nightwing, so I believe I’ll take my leave. Let me know when you’re ready to give your full report.”

And at that Dick actually did laugh, a short, bitter sound that ended before it really started. Bruce had schooled his expression into something carefully neutral again, his mouth set in a line slightly too hard to be truly uncaring. He stayed, and Dick couldn’t really figure out why – he seemed to be waiting for Dick’s response.

“Well go on then. It’s what you’re best at anyway, isn’t it?”

Bruce raised his hand and hesitated, seemingly debating something. He moved it to rest on Dick’s arm and opened his mouth to say something.

“Son…”

Dick flinched hard enough to shake his hand off. He took a staggering step backwards, away from Bruce and from Gotham and from the terrible, unending cold.

“Don’t,” He was surprised by how hard his own voice was. “You made it abundantly clear before I left that I am not your son. I’ll have the report to you by the end of the week.”

He knew it was a childish move, but he left the roof before Batman could. Moving through the buildings and the cold, he knew that Gotham was no longer his city.

He had needed Bruce. And the man hadn’t been there, so Dick had moved on to survive without him. He wasn’t Bruce’s son.

But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t damaged.