#bruce standing over jason in crime alley before taking him in

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

Ok, I have 3 days of RBH's to make and post today to make up for me missing the past 2 days. So, let's hit the road!

Random Batfam Headcanon's #22: The Adoption Habit Trilogy!

The Batkids have unknowingly inherited Bruce's patent for Adopting things, but the things they adopt are vastly different.

Dick: he has a bad (or sometimes good) Habit of Adopting new hobbies and interests at the flip of a dime. This is most likely just his old circus lifestyle + his ADHD catching up to him in his older years, but he can't keep still or do any 1 career for too long without it being monotonous. The only exception is Vigilantism because each night is vastly different than the night before.

Barbara: Babs has the habit of adopting the many regulars at Gotham Library as under her protection like Jason with Crime Alley.

Jason: He, ironically enough (and never let Jason or Bruce hear this), is the most like Bruce, because his adoption habit is ALSO towards traumatized orphan Kids (and normal kids with a little bit of a sad life. We don't judge), except he's set his scope a lot smaller than Bruce's in that he tries to limit his range to just Crime Alley. Of course he fails spectacularly and has a small caballe of International Children he's picked up on missions living together in Crime Alley, always having their various apartments directly across the street from his most secure Safe Houses. He also has an inexplicably near-complete collection of every variant of Jane Austin Novels.

Tim: Tim Collects Photos and used Coffee Cups. Does he also only save those coffee cups so he can extract the persons DNA into a vast database of his so that he may clone any of the Batfam (or all of humanity if needed) in case of world disaster events? Don't worry about it :)

Steph: Steph is probably the most normal when it comes to her Adoption/Collection because she has a very vast collection of random knickknacks that she's found or acquired over the years.

Cass: Cass has been testing out her sowing skills alot and so has conducted her own small game at her apartment in Korea (not that she doesn't bring it home to Gotham with her). And that's the fact that she's begun swiping up damaged bits of everyone's costumes after fights, and just random weapons or costume parts that the Batfam leave around the Manor, and she takes them back to Korea to stitch all the random pieces back together into her own version of the Batcave's suit display cases. So far the only suit she hasn't been able to start is Barbara's Batgirl suit design, but even then she's looking at that display case every time she's visiting like Indiana Jones trying to steal that golden statue.

Damian: Damian, Being both Bruce's direct blood relative and being raised by the Eco-Terrorists that are the LOA, adopts any random animals he can find, especially those that have naturally occurring Bat Shaped Birth Marks.

Duke: Duke is the kind of Whippersnapper to collect indie Rap mixtapes. You know, the ones from up and coming rappers who stand outside a 7/11 trying to sell anyone their debut mixtape for only $9. He has a pretty vast collection.

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

[kitkatt0430]

Been in a Batfamily (in all it's fucked up drama) mood lately and thinking...

Jason gets into town, starts establishing his Red Hood persona, screwing with the Bats and taking over Crime Alley. He intends to use the new Robin to screw with Batman and manipulating Black Mask into reporting the new Red Hood back to the original. And as planned, Joker does not respond well to 'some upstart' using his old moniker.

Except when Joker breaks out of Arkham he can't help but be distracted by Batman and his shiny new Robin. (Has Joker been out while Tim's been Robin at this point? Let's say no for the sake of fanfic purposes.) Now Harley made Joker promise no more killing kids after what happened with the last Robin, made it clear that was a hard boundary for her and she'd leave him for good if he want after any more kids.

Of course, his promise that of course he wouldn't kill anymore kids was a total lie but it got Hartley to go all soft and agreeable for him again and that was what mattered. Besides, he doesn't want to kill this Robin. He wants to see what Batman sees in having child sidekick and take one for himself.

So Tim gets kidnapped by the Joker before Bruce can send the poor kid somewhere not Gotham for his safety. And Joke unmasks Tim because of course he does. And Harley sees how young Tim is and watches Mr. J start electrocuting the kid because surely the brainwashing'll stick if they fry his noggin' a bit first...

And Harley decides this is a boundary for her too. She can't be a part of this and even if it kills her, she's going to save this kid. She knows she can't do it on her own and her first thought is to go find Batman.

Of course, she quickly nixes this idea. Batman isn't ruthless enough and sure maybe he'll make it all the way through Joker's henchmen - admittedly as per usual - and rescue the kid. But then Mr. J will go back to Arkham and even though Harley doesn't want Joker dead... she also kinda wants him dead for this one. For using his promise to her not to kill kids as an excuse to torture children instead.

Next choice is Nightwing but he's out for the same reasons as Batman. Nightwing is somewhat more likely to kill the Joker and could live with it in the way Batman couldn't, but it's not a guarantee and Harley wants this kid to know that the guy who did this to him will never be able to do it ever again.

And then Harley remembers. Red Hood. Who definitely picked that name not as an homage but as a taunt. Who clearly hates the Joker and all he stands for. Who will... probably kill Harley, let's be honest, but she's not sure she wants to live without her Mr. J even as she's mentally planning out the man's death. So.

Harley makes an excuse to leave. Joker says something about mom doing the grocery shopping to the kid he's electrocuting and hands off a list of random stuff to Harley. She takes it and skedaddles. Heads all the way to Crime Alley. Stands outside it for a long moment. Thinks about the kid Joker's gotten his hands on. The way he screamed and cried and begged for Batman to come save him after the bravado of Robin quickly wore off.

She steps into Crime Alley. And then she does random acrobatics down the street, waiting for the Red Hood or his men to show up.

And they do. The Red Hood's henchmen are quick and efficient in grabbing her and presenting her to their boss. There's a gun in her face and she should be terrified and she is but...

She tells Red Hood about the kid. She drops the fake accent she put on for Joker and let's herself be, for just one last time, Harleen instead of Harley. The doctor who cares and not the killer Joker molded her into. "So kill me or whatever, I know I deserve it for believing Mr. J's lies again. But you have a code. You don't hurt kids. You don't kill kids. And maybe I'm asking too much, but I wasn't there and didn't save the last one. So I'm begging you to save this one."

Jason sees green. He has Harley take him to the Joker's hide out. He tears his way through the Joker's goons and doesn't hesitate to kill the Joker because he's too deep in the pit rage at the man who murdered him to care about his convoluted plans to try and force Bruce's hand, to make Batman finally kill Joker.

On the bright side, killing the Joker himself clears up some of Jason's lazarous pit related anger management issues. On the spot. The down side however is that Jason now has a traumatized Tim to deliver back to Batman - which he'd rather not, Batman cannot be trusted not to weaponize children - without being blamed for the state Tim's in.

He makes this Harley's problem - explain this to the Bats yourself, it's your punishment, Harley - and decides he needs a new plan to say 'screw you' to Batman with. He's gonna win over Robin 3.0 and get the kid to willingly abandon Batman to join the Red Hood Crew. How hard can it be, anyway?

Meanwhile Tim has absolutely figured out Jason is the Red Hood because he's absolutely connecting dots he should not be capable of connecting and formulating his own plan to try and lure Jason back home. Because why would Tim focus on healing from his own trauma when he could prioritize someone else's and compartmentalize the hell out of his own problems. Which is definitely the healthy thing to do and not at all going to bite him in the ass with depression and miscommunications down the line. (They all need so much therapy.)

So now the Joker's dead, Harley has delivered Tim safely back to Batman, (Ivy is about to get an unexpected visitor,) and the Bats are about to start playing four-d chess with each other to try and achieve various goals. Jason is trying to steal Tim from Bruce. Bruce thinks maybe saving Robin means the new Red Hood could be saved from himself after all. Tim is trying to lure Jason back to the manor for Alfred's cookies and oh is that a long overdue conversation with Bruce that is also sprung on him like a trap??? And Dick would just like to thank Red Hood but somehow winds up drunk confessing to the definitely-a-hallucination-of-Jason the whole didn't find out his little brother was dead until after the funeral when Dick got back from space thing and how he's so grateful to the Red Hood for saving this new kid who's just the neighbor's kid but also rapidly looking brother-shaped and why is he so bad at protecting the people he cares about???

(Jason rapidly going from 'drunk Dick is funny' to 'drunk Dick is clingy and cries and oh god he's getting emotions all over me make it stop')

[justanothervigalanty]

Jason’s little guy

you and Jason were in the hospital. With a 4 hour old baby boy who was tiny. Very tiny. In all seriousness he was lucky to be alive unlike you you wished you were dead welst expecting child birth for the first time. But yeah your little boy was an early baby and when I say early I mean you were only 32 weeks pregnant and had only recently told your families! This was probably the most stressful terrifying thing for not only you but Jason because your water didn’t just break no no no. Jason needed backup in crime alley and you were the closest person so you put on your suit, red mast and went to kick some criminal ass. Jason was not happy about you being there but he needed the support so he didn’t complain. Until one off the shooters must off notice you small but visible pregnant belly. So take a wild guess at we’re this idiot kicked you. Your stomach. To which you feel to the floor in shock and well according to Bruce the red stain all up his suit was ketchup. So that’s how you ended up in the hospital. Yay (no). Jason had been waiting since the moment you both had talked about kids, holding a small mini him in his arms. But the odds were against him because well the kids check ups took about 1 hour to make sure he was okay and you needed to try Brest feed him which he wouldn’t take. Back to the checkups, he also to Jason’s horror had needed a injection around 1 inch long in his arm and thay just did it right there in front off him before carrying Jason’s screaming baby away again!? He just wanted to hold his son so when they brought him in and handed him to you he immediately gestured that he wanted to hold his kid. So you handed him over showing Jason how to support his head and not to squish him. God you had never seen your boyfriend so happy in your life. He didn’t say anything for about 10 minutes he just sat there staring at his son. Then around 3 doctors walked in. “Um miss L/n and mr Todd we believe your son may have some sort of genetic illness” one said walking over to a now very worried Jason with you terrified on the hospital bed. “As you can see your son has a very bold streak of white and we noticed his eyes Are glow in the dark green.” The doctor said as your son opened his eye to reveal your E/c past on to him. “What?! His eyes were green we all saw it not E/c!” Just then you and Jason laughed a bit. “What why are you laughing this is a serious issue you’re son could be permanently sick!?” Another said a bit disgusted. Jason just laughed and pulled down the hood on his jacket to show his jet back hair and white steak “it’s just some genetic from me” he said “and the eye thing is just how y/n’s eyes look in some light” Jason said holding your hand. “Oh then you should be good to go this evening. Which you gladly did. But there was a change off place you went over to Wayne manor because you had realised you hadn’t told anybody about your baby’s sudden birth. So when you walked in with a hospital bracelet and Jason holding what looked like a small pile of baby blankets Bruce was confused and concerned. “Y/n! Jason! We didn’t see you on the group patrol last night are you ok?” He asked standing up. “Well you could say that” Jason said walking over and handing over your son to him. “I told you I was good at keeping secrets” you said walking over “he is tiny!”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Tim Comes for Dinner! (part 5.5)

Previous | Masterpost

Well I meant to post this a couple days ago but my computer croaked and it took me a hot minute to figure that mess out. ko-fi in my bio if you want to help make up some of the budget shortfall that caused smh

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Since first meeting up with Hyena and Jason, Tim had gone to visit them a few more times. Tim would try to arrange his patrol so he’d be by Crime Alley around the middle, when he usually stopped for a break and something to eat. He would cross the invisible border and without fail Hyena would come find him rather quickly and, if Hood could get away, they would have lunch together. It was nice to bond with one of his brothers, especially given how distant Dick had been. He hadn’t been around at all since his last fight with Bruce and Bruce wasn’t exactly emotionally available so it had been lonely. That was fine since Tim was used to it, but still.

Tim had been given access to one of their safe houses in case he ever needed to hide from Bruce, since it absolutely couldn’t be traced to him. Tim had plans to take them up on their offer for homework help too. Next semester he was taking an astronomy course and that was not his specialty. With how much Hyena loved space Tim thought asking for help would be fun for both of them. 

All that to say, getting to know both of them was going really well! But Tim still hadn’t been to any of their actual safehouses yet, especially the one Hyena referred to as their ‘nest’. That was fine, Tim understood that perfectly! They had an unspoken agreement to not really talk about the nightlife, but since the three of them were technically on different sides of course they wouldn’t want him in their safe spaces. He wouldn’t press it at all, it would just seem like he was digging for info.

They had invited him over for dinner tonight but Tim wasn’t expecting it to be at their home since they could bring groceries to a safe house easily enough. He was still looking forward to it, especially with how much Hyena had been talking up Jason’s cooking.  

The plans had been before Tim had seen their confrontation with Batman and Constantine. Hyena and hood had been so focussed on those two they seemed to have forgotten Tim was there. He didn’t mind, his instructions had been to hang back and watch anyway, and it had been really interesting to watch honestly. 

He knew that Hyena was fucking with them, he’d spent enough time with the man to know that he was a trickster at heart, but he also knew that Hyena must have been telling the truth thanks to the spell. It was interesting and Tim was curious to say the least, but he doubted he’d be getting any more answers today. He was trying not to think about it too much because he couldn’t stand not knowing things and he didn’t want to end up ruining dinner with incessant questions they’d probably just dodge anyway.

He’d been given the address for dinner and was on his way now, in civvies this time, and without bothering with any sort of contingency plans now that he trusted Jason and Danny more. He was driving one of the more beat up cars so as not to stand out in the poorer area of town, he didn’t want any trouble. He parked, and glanced at the address again to make sure he was in the right place, before letting himself into the apartment building and buzzed their apartment. 

“Yellow!” Hyena’s chipper voice came through the speaker, slightly distorted. 

“Hey, it’s me, can you buzz me in please?” Tim asked.

“Oh! You’re a bit early. Of course!” Hyena agreed and then the door unlocked and Tim let himself in and headed up.

He double checked the apartment number before knocking, and again it was Hyena who let him in with a bright smile. He was wearing a tshirt with a flying saucer on it and jeans, no mask or hood. It was the first time Tim had seen the white in his hair and he understood the need for the hood, it was pretty distinctive. 

“Hi! Welcome!” Hyena said, hugging Tim and nearly lifting him off his feet making him wheeze but he’d been expecting it, Hyena was very tactile and affectionate. He put Tim down quickly and ushered him inside. 

“Hey there, Timmy,” Jason called from the kitchen, he had an apron on and there was a small smudge of some sort of sauce on his right cheek. He was smiling and he looked just as at home in the kitchen as he did on the job, comfortable and confident. The smell of warm food, garlic and spices, filled the space making it feel homey. “Dinner’s almost ready but it’ll be a little bit longer. Can Danny get you something to drink?” 

“Danny?” Tim asked, it was the first time he’d heard that name, he glanced at Hyena who smiled at him and nodded. 

“I know both of your real names, you might as well know mine. I’m sick of hiding behind, like, five different levels of secret identity anyway,” Danny said with a shrug. “So, anything to drink?”

“Uh whatever juice you have is fine,” Tim said with a little shrug, Danny nodded and headed over to the fridge, giving Tim a chance to look around the apartment.

It looked… a lot more lived in then he expected. There was a bouquet of varied roses on the table, some in colours Tim could have sworn roses didn’t come in. Must be from Ivy, but they fit in with the rest of the decor. The space was cozy, the couches looked used but well cared for, and there were decorations on the walls. This must have been their actual home, huh, he hadn’t expected that. Both telling him Danny’s real name, and letting him into their actual home was a show of trust that Tim wasn’t expecting. It seemed a bit premature, he hadn’t earned this trust yet. 

“Thank you,” Tim said as he took the cup of tropical-punch Danny handed him.

“Make yourself at home! Jason’s making pasta with stuffed meatballs and sauce, and garlic bread! He makes the best garlic bread,” Danny cheered a little as he went to set the table. Unsure what else to do, Tim sat down at the table and watched the couple dance around each other with practiced ease as they got ready for dinner. 

“Ya ya if you keep talking me up he’s going to find the reality a let down,” Jason said, rolling his eyes at Danny before pulling a pan of garlic bread out of the oven and tilting it onto a plate. “Take this to the table,” he directed Danny, who let out an inhuman little trill of delight and snatched the plate, bringing it to the table. 

He was a good enough host to let Tim take a piece before he grabbed one as well and took a bite, his mouth opening just slightly too wide and took a big bite, immediately starting to purr. It seemed like after the confrontation with Constantine he had given up on pretending to be human in front of the family. And judging by the absolutely disgustingly loving way Jason was looking at Danny, he was enjoying it.

To avoid making a face at his brother being sappy at his boyfriend Tim took a bite of his own piece of garlic bread and made a series of soft startled noises, first about how hot it was, and then about how flavourful and good it was! He looked down at it in shock, and took another bite quickly, savouring how buttery, and garlicky, and herbaceous it was!

When he looked up he caught Jason watching him with a little smirk on his face, he knew how good it was too and was being smug about it. Tim rolled his eyes and flipped his brother off before he swallowed his bite. “Don’t get cocky,” he said before taking another bite as Danny cackled and Jason rolled his eyes. 

“If you don’t think it’s going to be any good you don’t have to have any of the pasta I spent all day making,” Jason said as he grabbed the pot and drained the noodles. 

“He made it from scratch!” Danny told him with a cheeky grin, leaning in to add in a conspiratorial stage whisper; “He wanted to impress you so you’d come visit more.” 

“You don’t have to have any either!” Jason warned, pointing a spatula threateningly at his boyfriend. 

“You wouldn’t dare!” Danny gasped dramatically. 

“Try me!” Jason shot back.

“Fine, I’m sorry, please don’t deprive me of your cooking,” Danny laminated with a dramatic swoon.

Tim hid a snort behind his glass of juice at the couple's antics. Jason rolled his eyes and brought one of the dishes over to the table, Danny jumped up to help ferry the rest over to the table as well. Jason put the bowl of pasta down in front of Tim so he could take some while Danny helped himself to meatballs.

Once everyone had food, and Danny had started eating while it was still far too hot for the humans at the table, Tim caught Jason looking at him funny. Tim looked back questioningly, what was Jason thinking about?

“You’re quieter than usual Tim, everything okay?” Jason asked him and Tim winced a little, he’d thought he was being pretty good. 

“I’m just trying really hard not to be a detective right now,” Tim explained with a self-deprecating little smile. “I saw what happened between you two and Bruce the other day and I’m curious, but I don’t want to ask-”

“Good, don’t,” Danny cut in, his eyes flashing that dangerous green for just a moment before he shoved another big bite of pasta and sauce, undercutting the threat just a bit. 

Tim nodded acknowledgment and continued; “But mainly I’m just, kind of surprised you let me come here? I mean, you know how The Bats are as well as anyone but you brought me to your actual home? You told me your real name. I haven’t earned that much trust.”

Jason shrugged awkwardly and looked at Danny, who swallowed probably too quickly so he could answer. “He’s allergic to expressing his emotions too,” Danny said, gesturing at Jason. 

“Learned from the best,” Jason cut in with a self-deprecating laugh.

“So I’ll explain. You didn’t need to earn it,” Danny explained, laying his hands on the table, palm up. “It’s preemptive, we’re hoping that by giving you more of our trust you’ll give us more of yours. Not for any nefarious purposes or anything, but just that you’ll be willing to come to us for help if you need it. And that you won’t listen to all the paranoid rambling I’m sure Bruce is doing about us,” Danny finished with a crooked smile, glancing at Jason who snickered softly.

“I wasn’t listening to him already,” Tim said absently as he turned over what Danny had said in his mind. At least his comment made both of them laugh. “This was your idea huh?” Tim asked Danny.

“Oh ya, basically all of this has been Danny’s ideas,” Jason agreed, fidgeting with his fork. “I had the truly terrible idea to try and threaten you out of being Robin, because the idea of you dying like I did freaked me the Fuck out. It was Danny who said that wouldn’t work and we should support you instead. As usual, he was right,” Jason sighed.

“And that’s how you know I’m the wife!” Danny joked with his slightly manic crackle.

Tim laughed too, and his food was finally cool enough to eat now so he dug in. Oh ya, he was definitely coming back again if it meant more food like this!

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Calling Dad it's something that Tim has witnessed from Dick and Damian to even Jason.

Backed into a corner scared slightly shitless and it's like an ingrained reaction. Something specific to being a Robin gun to your head and you just scream for Bruce.

Tim hasn't really ever had to do it.

When he was Robin especially after Jason, well say what you will about Bruce but he was never physically far away.

It was supposed to be a slow patrol all of them are out Dick working with Damian somewhere in the Diamond district. Jason in Crime Alley of course talking about a old lady who he helped cross the street. Bruce trying to get everyone to be quiet over the line.

Yet Ninja's are not apart of basic patrol unless your Red Robin. The first five go down quick none of his family is even aware, his breathing hasn't changed. Next seven slightly harder but nothing crazy.

Until he sees Ra's standing at the top of the old factory. He almost paused flashes of Paris, Wayne Enterprises, and the desert practically blind him. He didn't see the blade until it was too late cutting straight into his side.

Twenty more assassins begin to make there way. He doesn't hesitate.

"Dad, fuck...." he can't stop a slight hiss of pain as another cut ends up on his arm.

It explodes.

"Tim what's happening?"

"Red Robin Report."

"Replacement you better not be dying"

"Drake what is your situation?"

Ra's is making his way closer and although it isn't his typical move he starts running.

"Dad, uhm how do I put this I need like so much backup it's really not funny."

Where was Bruce he was about two blocks away if he doesn't turn around he can most likely ignore the swarm of Ninja that is running after him.

"Don't worry I'm bringing the problem too you but if everyone could convene at Bruce's location it would really be appreciated." 

"Red what's going on?"

Seriously? We're gonna need a bit more?"

"Drake if your are dying do inform us."

"Red Robin Report. Now!"

Apperently running for your life really takes a lot out of you he has to be max two minutes away he hopes at least. They are hot on his heels and don't look like they are slowing down."

"Lots of ninjas, also creepy Assassin Lord's who want to have my babies the usual, also I am slightly bleeding. So really I oh my god thank fuck I see you."

Tim's savior at long last a Batman grappling to the ground ten feet away he books it pushing past the woozy bloodloss and the slightly poison feeling because there is always poison he runs to Bruce and without a any real coherence dives behind him shouting.

"Dad thank fuck."

Now behind Bruce he sits down which usually isn't what you do when Ra's wants your bacon but it was either sit and pass out or stand so he is sitting.

Batman can handle it he thinks before his eyes start close ehh the grounds a good place for a nap.

[hpgal]

DC X DP Ghost Dog

CW: Blood, Violence

TLDR: Jason is fighting a losing battle against a new opponent he is having trouble hitting. This leads to him being chased and running into Danny whose chilling in an alley.

Word Count: 1326

a/n: Might write more where more Batfam encounter Danny and Danny's perspective, may even rewriting the ending of this. I got the idea from a prompt someone posted here on Tumblr and I forgot to save it but I'd love to tag them if anyone can help me find them! The prompt was something along the lines of Danny will randomly appear in alleys with items that the person needs exactly to solve a problem they were having.

Jason emptied his clip a long while ago and was now being chased through Crime Alley by some sort of dog. It was big. If was angry and it was... green?

The bullets did nothing to it but aggravated the thing and so it chased him. His comms weren't working to call for backup and he was getting tired. It's been 15 minutes of running and that was before you add on he was trying to fight the thing prior and he was now injured after taking a hit meant for a civilian.

He jumped off the rooftop, stumbling. Instead of catching the opposite ledge he plummeted to the ground. A dumpster broke his fall. But damn did it hurt, especially with a prexisting slash of claws on his side. He was still human after all. He had some time but he did not want to waste a single second before it could catch back up to him. So, begrudgingly and in pain, Jason pushed himself back up and out the dumpster.

"Great I'm going to smell like rotten fish for a week" he muttered to no one in particular as he brushed garbage off him.

Before he could formulate a game plan, his thought process froze. He looked up in confusion and blinked. Then blinked again as he stared at what he saw.

A kid with black hair and looked incredibly scrawny sat on a stoll behind a table with a sign "Clockworks Goods and Services!" The kid seemed unbothered with headphones on and eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall of the alley.

Hell the kid almost looked like Damian. If he has blue eyes he'd be a perfect candidate for a Bruce adoption. But why was a kid here.. selling his services?

Jason takes a moment to listen out and notice it is oddly quiet which meant the green dog must not be close yet so he takes advantage of the situation to figure out what the hell is going on here. He takes a step forward and looks at the contents on the table. It was empty except for a single bell with faded writing saying "ring me!" And so he did.

The kid opens his eyes with a start. They were piercing blue. Oh Bruce would fall for this kid instantly, he thinks to himself.

"Oh evening!" The kid starts as he stands up stretching as he removes his headphones from his head. "It looks like you're in need of my services. What is your problem today?"

The kid was so nonchalant as he spoke and moved around. The kid glanced at the table and furrowed his brow. "My names Danny by the way" he quickly adds on.

Jason stares at Danny through his mask perplexed. Something about this didn't sit right with him. It was late at night and Danny was hanging out in an alleyway selling services yet he looked not a day over 15.

But something drives him to answer Danny's question and answer it truthfully, "I'm fighting something and none of my attacks are working on it but it's causing destruction and hurting the people of Crime Alley. It even managed to injure me"

As soon as he says it, he wants to smack himself. Why would he need to tell the kid that? He shoyld be telling him to grt out of here, that it isn't safe.

Danny however shrugs like this was normal for him and looks down at the table again. The plastic folding tables surface remained empty except for the bell but Danny seems confused at this.

"Huh usually it appears when you say it." Danny mutters and proceeds to look under the table then behind him.

Jason however is further confused and raises a hand to his helmet to try his comms again. Unsurprisingly he hears only static. What he does hear instead of his families voices, is the barking of a dog in the distance and something crashing.

Aw shit.

Jason looks up then towards the entrance of the alley with a sigh, "Look, kid, I'm going to circle back to you and your... weirdness later, for now, you need to find somewhere safe while I deal with an abnormally large and green dog."

This seems to catch Danny's attention as he jerks back upright and looks at me. He stares, and I see the wheels in his head turn. He sighs, and his shoulders slump inwards.

"I get it now. I'm the service you need" Danny rolls his shoulders back and steps out from behind the table, heading to the entrance of the alley.

"Woah kid stay back! It's dangerous!" Jason calls out behind him as he jogs to catch up, only slightly twitching in pain as he moves. The kid was incredibly fast for someone who looked malnourished.

As soon as Jason reaches the street, he turns to see where the kid had gone. His eyes widened at the sight of Danny walking like it was just another day towards the rampaging dog.

Danny stops just out of reach of the green dog and whistles two quick notes. The dog pauses and looks towards Danny, its fast twisting from one of anger to excitement as evident with its tail wagging.

“Cujo!” Danny yells, “Bad dog! Drop the car!” the dog whines and drops the car it had in its mouth with a loud thud.

The dog, Jason now knows as Cujo, gets low to the ground and its ears press against its head like any dogs would when they are embarrassed or know they’ve been caught doing something they weren’t supposed too.

“Come here boy! It’s time to take you home!” Danny calls out to it, producing a glowing green dog treat from his pockets.

Jason just watches the entire encounter unfold, gobsmacked. He doesn’t know what to think of it. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was that simple. Who is this kid? As Jason continues to watch his jaw drops to the floor at what happens next.

The dog starts shrinking until it is ithe size of a puppy and comes bounding up to Danny with little playful barks. Danny scoops Cujo up with a sigh and scratches Cujos head right behind his ears.

Danny turns to look towards me, the street where Cujo came from a mess. He gives a sheepish smile and wave, “Sorry about that! I didn’t think Cujo followed me today! I’ll speak to my dog sitter about watching him more carefully next time!”

Danny turns back towards the chaos Cujo created on the street and glances at his watch. “Well, it’s time for me to clock out. I’ll send someone to clean up the mess! Sorry again!” Danny pauses for a moment as he glances once more at Jason, squinting.

A green glowing portal opens up behind Danny and he looks between Jason and the portal. He sets Cujo down and directs him to go through the portal. Danny jogs over to Jason, digging through his pockets.

“Oh sorry you’re hurt and sick. Probably my fault honestly. Here.” Danny shoves something into Jason's hands before he can protest, dumbfounded by what just happened, “That should get rid of the tainted Lazarus Waters in your soul and let your injury heal up like normal. Sorry again!”

Jason just stares before finally getting his bearings again, “Who the hell are you?!”

Danny just laughs, “I’m just your friendly neighborhood ghost.” and with that Danny leaves through the portal, it closing behind him leaving destruction and a baffled Jason in the street.

Like Danny promised, not even a few minutes later, another portal opened up in the streets of Crime Alley, spilling out dozens of glowing green people, who Jason started to believe were really ghosts. The ghosts got to work and by morning, it was like nothing happened.

At the next family dinner, no one believed Jason of what happened that night.

-----

a/n: I feel like we don't see Cujo enough in fics. I mean come on, a ghost dog? How cool is that?!?! I love Cujo <3 And we all know how much Cujo loves Danny!

[thevoidstaredback]

At exactly three in the afternoon, New Jersey time, the next day, Batman and Robin took the Zeta Tube up to the Watchtower to gather the waiting heroes for their promised tour of the Batcave.

Jason and Barbra were set up in the clocktower, watching the cameras Tim had set up the night before to record everything. Dick was at the Batcomputer, watching for alerts in case anyone decided to cut their fun short. Stephanie and Cass were on standby in the Manor with Alfred, setting up a movie night to watch the recordings before they were to head down to the Cave to interchangeably play Spoiler. Duke and Tim were both in the Cave, hidden in the rafters in their stealth suits. Kate and Selina had both agreed to help mess with the Justice League, neither actually knowing their identities, and were patrolling Gotham in place of Duke while they waited for part two of the plan.

The plan was set as follows, with room for improv and any missteps: -Batman and Robin gather the heroes from the Watchtower and bring them down to the Batcave -Nightwing meets them and joins in on the tour -Oracle calls Nightwing away for an emergency in Bludhaven -Batwoman would then call Batman away to help out against Red Hood in Crime Alley (that was so that they'd all keep thinking that Red Hood and Batman were still on bad terms. all the better to surprise Wonder Woman when she came to the Manor for the gala) -Steph, as Spoiler, would enter the Cave via the Lane and join Robin and the JL for a tour. She and Cass would then switch out at random intervals, basically gaslighting everyone - especially Superman - into thinking they're the same person -Nightwing and Batman would met up at the Clocktower to switch costumes. Dick becomes Batman while Jason and Bruce go to the Manor in civvies to show that they're under a residence -Duke and Tim, meanwhile, move things around the Cave as they please. At some point, Tim and Damian switch out, but don't acknowledge the switch -NightBat (Nightwing as Batman) comes back to the Cave, sending Steph and Cass back out and to the Manor in civvies, and Duke goes to take over for Batwoman and Catwoman -NightBat and Bruce meet in the locker rooms, while Red Robin distracts the JL, to change back into Batman and Nightwing -Batman rejoins the JL and RR while Nightwing goes back to get his bike and reenter the Cave via the Lane -Robin switches out with Red Robin who resets the Cave, putting everything back in its place as quickly as he can without being noticed -Nightwing comes back -Oracle calls out an emergency at the GCPD -The JL leave

Obviously, they all had comms in and were listening in on everything.

"Exactly on time." Green Arrow nods as Batman and Robin step out of the Zeta Tubes.

Wonder Woman smiles, "How are you doing today, Robin?"

Robin nods to her. "I am well, thank you. And yourself?"

"I am as well as I can be."

"That's good."

The group stands in place for a moment, Batman and Robin doing nothing to alleviate the nervous energy of the heroes in front of them. Eventually, it's Flash who breaks.

"Well, look at the time!" the speedster claps his hand together, "We don't want to be late, right?"

Superman nods in agreement. "Yeah." He turns to the two Gotham vigilantes, "Lead the way."

Batman nods and turns to put the coordinates for the Cave into the computer, authorizing the heroes to access the Batcave just this once. He motions to the Zeta Tubes and Robin steps in. Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter, Green Lantern, Flash, Cyborg, and Aquaman all take turns to follow him. Batman goes last.

Once in the Cave, the Gotham vigilantes allowed the Justice League heroes a few minutes to gawk. The cavern they were in was nothing special. It was a branch off from near the outskirts of the Cave, far enough away to stop any intruders that somehow got passed the Zeta security, but close enough that it only took a few minutes to reach the main cave. There were three Zeta Tubes set up in the small area with a security desk and computer to arm or disable any traps. A matching desk sat at the other end of the trapped hallway.

Entering the main area of the Cave, the JL took another few minutes to drink in the sight. Batman and Robin allowed them to. Nightwing didn't turn his chair yet, waiting for th perfect moment to announce himself.

"Is that- Why do you have a dinosaur in here?" Flash asked, having done a double take at the sight. The others join him.

Nightwing took the cue and spun the Batchair around dramatically. "To eat intruders."

The heroes turned to him as one unit, Lantern, Flash, Aquaman, and Cyborg openly gawking at the Batcomputer.

"Nightwing," Wonder Woman greeted, "It's good to see you."

"What the hell!" Cyborg cut in, holding himself back from running to the computer, though he speed-walked up to it. "It's beautiful."

"Isn't she?" Nightwing smirked, "B built her all by himself. The monitors are all TVs, custom wired to fit the frameless design."

"All seven?" Aquaman asked.

Nightwing nodded. "Yep! And the computer itself was custom, too! I helped with that, actually. It used to be a combination of three computers connected to the monitors, but I helped him condens it down to one shell connected to all seven monitors. RR keeps up the maintenance, though."

Green Arrow and Green Lantern also walked up to the desk. "It's an impressive display," Arrow said, "How long did it take?" He directed the question to Batman who joined the group, the rest coming up behind him.

"Three years and two months," the vigilante answered, "Two years to get everything together and wired properly. Another two months after Nightwing joined me as Robin to condense the three computers into one shell. A year to get everything coded and the firewalls up. As technology changes and programing gets better, so does the Batcomputer. She's intelligent all on her own, but RR and O are working on an AI for her."

"Who's-" Green Lantern was cut off by an alarm on the upper-most left monitor.

"Batcave, this is Oracle." she said, her voice coming through all the speakers in the Cave.

"Go ahead, O," Nightwing turned his chair back to face the computer, his hands flying between the three keyboards as he pulled up what the alarm was for .

"There's a problem in Bludhaven, 'wing, how fast can you be there?"

He pulled up a map of his home turf, seeing the false alarm at the BHPD. Though, what the Justice League didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "The bank on main, right?"

"That's the one."

"I'll be there in twenty tops."

"Alright."

Nightwing pushed the chair back, turning it and standing in one swift motion. Quickly, he made his way to where his bike was parked in the garage on the lower level of the Cave.

"Comms with Oracle," Batman ordered.

"As always!" he called back, pulling his helmet on before quickly peeling out of the Cave.

It was quiet as the sounds of the motorcycle faded out into the renovated cave system beneath the Crime Capital of the Country.

"Should we..." Martian Manhunter started, "Does he need help?"

Robin scoff lightly. "He will be fine. If he could not handle a minor bank robbery by himself, he would have died before transferring his mantle of Robin onto the next."

"Oh?" Aquaman turned his full attention to the child, "Who took the name after Nightwing?"

Robin didn't answer. Instead, he pointed to the dinosaur. "Our old costumes are kept on display downstairs by the penny. Would you like to see them?"

Wonder Woman, only falling second to Batman when children are involved, nodded. "Would you show the way?"

"Naturally." Taking the lead, Robin lead the group of heroes down the stairs and to the lower part of the Cave.

The upper, main, part of the Cave held the Batcomputer, the main entrances to the Manor, the Zeta Tubes, the lab, the meeting table, and the small med bay. The lower bar of the Cave was home to the training room, the displays, the large med bay, the Vault, the Batplane, and the garage.

"You really leaned into the whole gimmick, huh?" Superman nudged Batman with his elbow.

Cyborg watched him from the corner of his eye. "What do ya mean?"

The kryptonian pointed up. "There's about two hundred bats hanging up on the ceiling.

Flash flinched in on himself. "What?"

"This was their home before I took my name," Batman explained shortly.

Another alarm went off before anyone else could speak, though it was from Batman's gauntlet. He stepped away from the group knowing fully that they all could still hear.

"Hey, B!" Batwoman greeted, a smile evident in her voice.

"Batwoman," he responded. He hid his amusement as his coworkers stared at him in shock. "What's wrong."

"You remember Red Hood, right?"

"Obviously."

"Well, I've gotten into a bit of a pickle."

Batman cut her off with a sigh. "Send your coordinates, I'm on my way."

"Fantastic! Bring your grapple!" Then, she hund up.

"Is this a bad day?" Green Lantern asked, "We can leave and come back another day."

"Don't be ridiculous." Robin scolded, "I am more than capable of showing you around the Cave alone." He turned to his father, "Give Batwoman my greetings."

Batman grunted as he got into the Batmobile. Swiftly, he closed the door, turned the engine, and left the Cave.

Part 4 Part 6

[miiboo]

fair warning: i have a rat brain and dc stands for disregard canon <3

as far as the public knows, there are four robins: family robin, crime alley robin, the female robin, and the assassin robin. only steph, bruce, and dick know about the forgotten robin, tim drake.

tim drake was the robin before steph, the one who pulled bruce out of his depressive pit and saving criminals a trip to the icu, but to steph, he is her best friend and the one she confided in. he found her as spoiler and convinced babs to take her under her wing. he helped her get the title of batgirl. her best friend.

until the joker kidnapped tim and he went missing. everyone scrambled to find him, but during those weeks, steph and bruce argued for hours on end.

one night, via thermal imaging, babs found the jokers dead body in the arkham ruins that they find tim, or what's left of him anyways. steph and bruce go together to check it out and are immediately horrified to see what they find: shock therapy equipment and plenty of serums. hair dye, bleach, and surgical tools are haphazardly discarded on a table near by. a gun was discarded several feet away from the jokers dead body, a bullet wound between his eyebrows.

steph tries to hold herself together as bruce rummages around the ruins to find tim, but eventually breaks when she sees remnants of the robin costume neatly folded on a table with restraints and the robin symbol on top. a post-it note was next to it.

to batgirl, i'm sorry. i am alive. joker junior --tim

she holds the costume close when she cries.

eventually, she takes up the robin mantel and using the journals tim left in drake manor, creates her own costume with alfred. she carefully stitched tim's robin symbol on the left side of her chest, over her heart.

the relationship between her and bruce is strained, but he falls into that depression pit once more, and using tim's methods, she dragged him out of it. they don't talk about tim, dick and babs keep quiet about it too.

five years later, she took up the spoiler mask again, and in charge of a series of murders involving electricity. after the fifth body is found in the arkham ruins and the signature "jj'", realization dawns on the four. everyone else is confused, and soon, steph and bruce are harshly exchanging words.

one night, tim makes contact, and the family begins to argue about what needs to happen. steph told damian she was borrowing robin and changed into the old uniform.

"we can't just send you out there steph," dick argued.

"you can and you will. i was robin when we first encountered junior," a half-lie. "i know him better than any of you, and bruce will just set him off."

"steph," bruce warned.

"you're not changing my mind bruce. i'm going to see hi m whether you like it or not."

"steph."

"no. you let him slip through the cracks last time, so it's my turn now. this isn't about you. this is about me. about jason. about babs. about robin." bruce's eyebrow twitched, his way of flinching. no other words are said when she uses the robin bike to zoom into the streets of gotham and to the meet up spot.

she sees tim on the rooftop with his hair grown out and slightly dyed blue. there were scars on his mouth line and he wore a tshirt with jeans. the reunion was bittersweet, a ton of crying and steph slapping him. she was just happy that he was safe ((after their crying sess, tim realizes she was wearing his design, and began crying again)).

[charlietheepicwriter7]

V Secret Identities

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 3

“So, what do you have so far on the Red Hood case?” Dick asked Bruce, trailing behind him on the way down to the Batcave. He felt better, looser, after their fight. Maybe they could fit in a spar before breakfast? 

“Not much.” Bruce’s voice sunk into Batman’s gravelly voice . It was a code-switching thing, he suspected; just being in the Batcave puts Bruce in Batman’s headspace. It happened to a lesser degree when he and Jason were Robin, but once Tim took on the cape, Bruce and Batman became as different as night and day. 

Batman continued, “He’s a ghost in Gotham’s underground. No one knows who he is, or where he goes. Three weeks ago, he started targeting the drug dealers in Crime Alley, forcing them to work for him or die.” He tapped a few keys on the Batcomputer and brought up Red Hood’s file. “Needless to say, he’s developing his own gang at a rapid pace.”

“Red Hood, huh?” Dick studied the only picture Tim had managed to nab of the man. He looked tall, with broad shoulders covered in body armor similar to Batman’s. All features were covered by a matte red helmet. “That’s one of Joker’s old aliases. Any connection?”

“Not one that’s readily apparent. He chose the name for a reason , but until we interrogate him, there’s nothing that indicates a connection.”

Dick flipped through the file, landing on a report detailing the execution of multiple mafia lieutenants. “Nothing he’s been doing really connects with the Joker. Except for the killing.” The heads sent to the police was clearly a warning. Joker didn’t do warnings, not unless he was taunting them. “You said he’s building his own gang, right? Do you think he intends to take over Crime Alley ?”

“He’s certainly looking to put Black Mask out of business.” Batman switched to a video, an alley camera showing Red Hood beating several gangsters to death. “He's taking down the competition to establish his own control over the city's crime. His methods are brutal and lethal. He’s not just stopping criminals; he’s executing them. At the same time, he’s establishing rules in his own territory.”

“Rules?” Each gang had their own rules on how to operate, but in the end, their codes all sounded the same to Dick. 

“No selling drugs to kids. There’s more to it than that, but Hood’s morals are being enforced through violence and fear.”

“So, once Hood’s arrested, everything going to get worse because of a power vacuum. Great. At least this is a concrete difference between Hood and the Joker.” Dick didn’t know what he’d do if Red Hood was a Joker copycat. The name kept bugging Dick. Criminals liked to make names for themselves. It's a way to instill fear, to create an identity that stands out in the criminal underworld. But the Red Hood… it was one of Joker’s lesser known aliases. So why would someone else take up that mantle? Is it a way to mock the Joker, to reclaim the name from one of Gotham's most infamous villains? Or is it something more personal?

Dick asked again, “And we don’t know the connection between them?” 

Batman shook his head. “It could be a symbolic gesture, a way to reclaim the mantle from the Joker, or a means to instill fear. Or it might be something more personal that we’re not seeing yet.” He scowled. 

Turning back to the Batcomputer, Dick restarted the video. It was one of the few they had of the Red Hood. “What does Tim think?”

“Tim’s not on the case.” Dick immediately shot Bruce a glare. “Red Hood is a volatile unknown who has shown remarkable aggression towards Batman. As skilled as Robin is, I’ve asked him to step away from this case.”

“And he listened?”

A sigh. “No. I gave him a few unsolved murders to keep him entertained while we deal with this.”

Dick snorted. “Well, that’s not going to work for long. What’s the plan for when he solves them?”

“Sending him off to Titans Tower. But that’s only if we don’t catch Red Hood ourselves.”

The Teen Titans were good for Tim, especially after the disaster that ended Young Justice. Hopefully Tim wouldn't feel thrown away; maybe Dick should call him more regularly? His little brother needed him, he’d just lost his father , but Dick didn't want to make him feel smothered, Tim had complained about that in past- "There." Dick rewound the video a few frames, then let it play in slow motion. Red Hood redirected a punch to the face, smoothly twisted the arm around, and then threw his attacker over his shoulder, dislocating the man's shoulder in the process. "That's a League of Shadows move." A little further along and- "And that's a move that Lady Shiva created herself."

"His fighting style indicates he's had a wide variety of teachers, perhaps even more than me," Batman said as the Red Hood on screen pulled off a move Dick had only seen Talia Al Ghul perform before.

"Have you asked Talia about him?"

"...She hasn't been picking up my calls."

Joy. "He could be ex-League. That would explain all his weapons and tech. That helmet, it's not just for show. It's advanced, probably customized. Has anyone taken credit for designing his gear?"

"Oracle's keeping an eye on the dark web, but nothing so far. If he is League, nothing's going to show up, but-"

The clack of shoes on stone interrupted them. Alfred had descended the stairs from the manor and was staring at them both, unamused. "Pardon me for the interruption, gentlemen, but breakfast is served."

Dick immediately obeyed the unspoken demand and locked the Batcomputer. "Thanks, Alfie." He smiled, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "But you really didn't have to come down here to get us. The intercom would have worked."

Alfred raised one thin eyebrow. "Unfortunately, that hasn't been the case since you lived here, Master Dick. Both Master Bruce and Master Tim have developed an unfortunate habit of ignoring the intercom in favor of work."

Bruce didn't even have the decency to look regretful.

With their accent into the manor, Dick spoke, "No talking about our night life around Danny, okay?"

Their eyes widened. "He doesn't know?" Bruce asked.

"He's only met Nightwing once, and he's a heavy sleeper. He hasn't found out yet and I want to keep it that way."

Alfred pursed his lips. "He'll be upset when he finds out."

"I'd rather he be upset than him putting on a costume and jumping out the window after me."

"You're worried he'll want to help you?"

Dick glared at Bruce's amused smile. “Yeah, yeah, I see the irony. The best revenge is raising a child just like you , I get it. But I’m already having enough difficulty keeping him away from my police cases, he’d only get worse if he knew I was a vigilante too.”

They got to the dining room before Tim and Danny, giving Dick just enough time to pull a booster seat out of storage. “When did we last use this?” The booster seat matched the dark wood of the family dining room table and chairs, with a cushion to match. 

Bruce looked between the booster and Dick. “Probably when you were eight.”

“I never needed to use a booster seat!” Dick immediately defended, trailing off as Tim and Danny entered the room, Danny holding Tim’s hand. Dick glared; this conversation was not over. 

The table was already set: Bruce at the head of the table, with two seats on the right, and one seat on the left. As Dick was about to ask Danny to sit beside him, Danny dragged Tim over to one of the seats on the right, grabbed his booster seat without a word, and claimed the chair next to Tim. “Danny? What are you doing?”

Danny scowled at Tim. “If I don’t make him eat, Tim’s not gonna eat. So, Tim’s gonna sit here until everyone else is done, and if he doesn’t eat, he can’t have ice cream with us today.”

“We’re taking Timmy to get ice cream with us?” Dick asked as he took his seat across from them.

Tim shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Yes, we are! And you better not have forgotten, you promised!”

“Okay, okay.” Dick laughed. At least Danny and Tim were getting along better than he and J–

Breakfast began with an awkward silence, broken only by the clinking of utensils. Bruce finally broke the ice. "So, Dick, how's work been at the precinct?"

Dick was about to respond when Danny, his eyes lighting up, jumped in. "We just solved a couple of murder cases! They were really tricky, but we figured them out."

Bruce's interest was piqued. "Oh? And how exactly were you involved in these cases, Danny?"

Danny shrugged nonchalantly. "I just helped out a bit. I'm good at noticing things."

With some prompting from Bruce, Danny launched into an enthusiastic explanation, detailing how he and Dick pieced together the clues. Dick sat back and let Danny talk. Danny’s medium abilities weren’t something he’d planned to talk about with his family despite Danny being open about their existence. It didn’t bother Dick that Danny was a meta, but it was like Danny had no hesitation in telling everyone. Kids got trafficked all the time in Bludhaven, especially meta kids like Danny. And Danny was running around telling people about his powers, conning them into paying him to speak to dead family or friends.

Dick was half-expecting to turn on the TV in the evening to learn that one of Danny’s past marks had blabbed and then everyone would know that Richard Grayson’s foster son was a meta. 

“-Honestly, the Hollydale Gang Murders is why I think those cases you were looking at are actually the work of a serial killer,” Danny was telling Tim, to Dick’s alarm. “The murder weapon keeps changing and the victims are unconnected, but there are too many similarities! They were all ambushed, all identifying features were damaged, all dumped in dumpsters–”

“Yeah, but all those things happen a lot with Gotham murders. You have to look for connections beyond that–”

Bruce held up a hand. “Wait, hold on. Tim, you told Danny about those murder cases?”

Tim shrunk in his chair. It seemed to dawn on him for the first time that Dick hadn’t told Danny about the vigilantism. “Yes? Was I not supposed to?”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Yes. No.” Another sigh. “What’s done is done. Danny, do you mind keeping this to yourself? Those murder cases you and Tim have been working on... I was the one who arranged for Tim to get them. I had to pull a lot of strings to make it happen.”

“Why?”

Bruce sighed. "Tim has a very particular set of skills and interests. Solving these cases is more than just a hobby for him—it's a way for him to channel his energy and make a difference. But it's also something that needs to be kept quiet. Not everyone would understand or approve."

Danny's eyes widened in realization. "So, you’re saying Tim wouldn’t be getting these cases without you?"

"Exactly. And I need you to stay quiet about it. If word got out, it could cause a lot of trouble, not just for Tim but for everyone involved."

Danny thought for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in his eye. "I see. So, this is pretty important to you, huh?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow, sensing where this was going. "Yes, it is."

"Well," Danny said slowly, "keeping secrets can be tough. Might need a little incentive to make sure I don’t accidentally let something slip."

Bruce folded his arms. "What do you have in mind?"

"A hundred dollars should do it," Danny said, trying to keep a straight face but failing to hide a small grin.

“Danny…” Dick tried to scold, but Bruce patted his shoulder. 

Bruce stared at Danny for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Alright, chum. You've got a deal." He pulled out his wallet and handed Danny a crisp hundred-dollar bill. "Just remember, this isn't a game. Keeping this quiet is important."

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know . I’m not going to spoil all my fun.” Everyone flinched, but Danny was too busy stuffing away his ill-gotten gains to notice. “Tim’s my first friend who shares one of my hobbies; I don’t want to lose him just because it’s kinda illegal.”

Tim looked touched. “Thanks, Danny. I don’t want to lose you too.”

They finished breakfast with Dick smiling at Danny and Tim–he was so happy they were getting along that his chest ached. As Danny left to use the bathroom, Dick pulled Tim aside. 

“I already know,” Tim said, clearly expecting a lecture. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d already told him about our identities. I’m sorry.”

Dick pulled his baby bird into a hug. “I’m not mad; I just wanted to check in with you.” He pulled away enough so he could look at Tim. The bags under his eyes had only gotten deeper since they last met, and his hair was greasy, like he’d skipped his last few showers. “How are you holding up?”

First Stephanie, then his father. Timmy was losing so much in such a short period of time. 

Tim didn't look him in the eye. "I'm fine," he replied, his voice hollow and distant.

“Timmy…”

“I’m fine , Dick.” Timmy pushed him away. He was shaking. “This is just… something I have to deal with. It doesn’t involve you.”

“It does involve me because I care about you!”

“Yeah, you cared so much that you adopted a kid without telling me.” Dick opened his mouth, but Tim wouldn’t let him speak. “Oh, sorry, you’re fostering a kid. My bad. There’s so much difference between the two.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tim closed his eyes. “I’m sorry too. I’m not… I shouldn’t be taking things out on you.” Dick reached out for another hug, only to be rebuffed. “I want to be alone right now.” Turning away, Tim disappeared down the hall, leaving Dick alone.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

[sanguineterrain]

Hi! I love your writing so much and I'm really excited about you doing requests :) Would you consider writing a drabble (inspired by Window Pains 😉) in which Jason and Reader are in a relationship filled with trust and safety (and blood lol) but Reader becomes overwhelmed by the responsibility and worry over patching Jason up and pretty much keeping him from dying all the time? Reader breaks things off and it hurts Jason more than he ever anticipated (I'm a sucker for angst 😌).

sucker for angst eh? if you insist 😎

jason todd x gn!reader. tw jason almost dies, reader is guilty and scared and doesn't want to lose him etc etc. breakup. marinate in the unresolved angst! hehe

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

Now with a pt 2!

****

You're shaking by the time you get back to Jason's apartment.

His heart had stopped. He'd been alone in a warehouse, comms fried, clinically dead for three minutes.

He'd died.

"He'll be okay," Dick had said, but you'd seen the way he'd cradled his baby brother's head in his lap.

He very easily could've not been okay.

"Take it easy," you say as Jason hobbles through the threshold.

You trail behind him with his duffel over your shoulder and the bag of medication Alfred had prepared in your hand. Jason slumps onto the couch. He hisses when the movement jostles his bandaged ribs.

"Why aren't you in bed?" you ask, setting his duffel down.

"'Cause I'll keep you up. Pain meds always give me nightmares. 'S why I told Bruce not to give 'em to me. But does the old man listen? No, of fucking course not."

"Jason, I don't care if you wake me up with your nightmares. Your body needs to heal. It can't do that if you're on a lumpy couch."

"Baby, it's not a big deal," he says, not even looking at you. "I'll be fine in a couple of days anyway. Babs said there's some trafficking ring in Crime Alley. If I time it right, I can get—"

You throw the bag of pills onto the table. Jason doesn't flinch but he does look at you, one brow raised.

"Wh—"

"You were clinically dead for three minutes!" you shout. "What don't you understand about that?"

"What are you talking about?" he asks, face pinching. "I was fine. I'm alive. I'm here. Close calls happen all the time."

"You died! Your heart stopped!"

"Not the first time," he says evenly.

As soon as he says it, you can tell he regrets it. You crumple all the same, bracing yourself against the couch.

"I can't sit around waiting for you to die, Jason," you say quietly. "That'll break me for good."

"Baby, you were there. You're always there in time, and Dick was—"

"Dick could've been a minute late, and then I would've had to hold my dead boyfriend until the ambulance came," you say, closing your eyes.

You can't get the image of Jason, pale and lifeless in Dick's arms, out of your head.

"I wouldn't have... sweetheart, I would've been okay. I'm always okay—"

You cover your face as you start to cry. Jason makes a soft noise.

"Baby, don't cry, please. I wasn't—I'm sorry I scared you, honey."

"I can't do this, Jay, I can't lose you," you cry, palms wet with tears.

"You won't! I'll be more careful, I promise—"

"I can't keep you alive, Jason. I can't—can't do it anymore."

You pick up your bag and your phone, walking towards the door.

"Baby," Jason starts, fear bleeding into his voice. "Sweetheart, stop. Stop it. Where are you going?"

"I'm going home," you say, wiping your cheek. "I'm done, Jay. I can't do this."

"No, no, baby, please. Please, baby, it's late, don't go. I don't want you to go. This is home," Jason says desperately, trying to stand up from the couch.

"Jay, sit down before you pull your stitches," you say.

He ignores you. You open the door and wince when he grunts in pain. He's too slow to stop you tonight, and that's all the reminder you need to leave.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I love you, Jason. But I can't watch you kill yourself."

"Please—"

The door shuts behind you. You start walking before you can change your mind.

You'll never be too late to save Jason Todd.

[mxtantrights]

Can you write a Jason Todd x reader where they knew each other before he dies but then they reunite. Maybe they were robins at the same time. Y/n has element powers and their eyes change colors based on element currently using. They are afraid of having too much power. Established relationship please!!! I cannot handle slowburns

Broken Bird comes home

the night Jason died was the worst night of your life. The worst. No other night compares to it. Not the night after you spend in the fetal position and crying. Or the night after the funeral where there was no body. Or the night on the first anniversary of his death.

Night time is the worst for you. You just remember getting the calls from Bruce and your whole world shattering. Jason was more than your friend. He was your first crush, your first kiss, first relationship.

He used to do this thing when you two would hold hands on patrol. Your gloves covered your wrists so he would sneak his thumb inside of the leather and rub the inside of your wrist. Something about wanting to feel your pulse.

You had stopped being Robin about three months before you found out Jason died. You never really felt like you could be as good as Dick. And Jason was the only reason you stayed on as long as you did. But even that had it's caveats.

Bruce relied on you and your patience and understanding way more and tried to get Jason to model himself after you. Even though you tried to be more like him, less rule following and more march to your own beat and ask for forgiveness later.

But sometimes the two of them would put you in the middle of their endless tiffs. It drove you up the wall. And one night you just decided right then and there to stop being a Robin.

It's not until after the first year past Jason's death that you decide to go back on the streets to fight crime again. This time it's very different. You don't have anyone to answer to but yourself. And you have no one to look up to anymore.

You don't pull your punches. You don't think in black and white anymore. Everything is gray. And you operate in the areas that used to scare you.

It isn't long before Bruce reaches out, because he's been keeping tabs on you. He asks if you're sure about what you're doing. And he tells you that you're always welcome to come back, as yourself not as a Robin.

You respectfully decline his offer. You hated him the first eight or nine months after Jason's death. You hated how he wasn't there. You hated how that clown just walked free and continued terrorizing the citizens of Gotham.

You actually got to run into him once. Tracked him down, got him all by himself. And delivered a beating that brought him so close to the pits of hell that even you got scared. Bruce showed up then, told you it wasn't right. That you couldn't take justice into your own hands like that.

His words had no affect on you. You hated him for letting the clown go free like that. And you hated that he had a new Robin already.

It's probably not until the third year that you find your footing. You know how to operate as a vigilante. You don't get too mad when you see the new Robin anymore. And you talk to Bruce to check in and still decline his off to join his team.

In those two years you get better at controlling your powers. Yo hardly used them when you were Robin. And after Jason's death you over used them, packing a few punches that moved tectonic plates underneath your feet. This was a balanced way of using your powers. You were coming to understand them.

And then your world shatters again.

One night while on patrol, you notice your being followed. So you take a few turns to lose them. But they're pretty good. So you decide to corner them into an alley way. One where you can confront them.

In the dark you corner your tail. He stands a foot taller than you. All that you can really make out is that red helmet of his. Nothing else tells you about him. He's even using a voice modulator.

You ask him why he's following you. He doesn't answer. You tell him to back off. He doesn't answer. You, at your wits end, run ups o him and are about to deck him when he grabs a hold of your wrist.

You try to pull back but he holds you. It's not that tight. He's not hurting you, you realize. He's just holding you. When you look down at your wrist, you realize that he's touching you right where Jason did.

You wrench your wrist away from him and take a step back. You're about to haul off a bunch of curses at him when he starts speaking to you.

"You're pulse." he says.

Your spine goes straight at that. Jason used to say that, why is this guy saying that to you? You moves to take another step back but you don't. You look right at him.

"Jason?" you ask.

The man starts moving at light speed. All at once the helmet it coming off. You see a tuft of white hair amongst the black. And then he takes off his domino mask. You see it in his eyes. It's Jason, it's your Jason, but it's not.

"How is this possible?" you ask yourself, taking a few steps forward.

When the tip of your shoes meet his boots, and he doesn't move, you take it as a sign that he's okay with you being this close. You hesitantly reach up towards his face but you take your hand back. You don't notice the storm clouds you're forming. Not until the rain starts coming down.

"It's me." he says.

You can't help the tears that come out of your eyes. Or how you start sobbing uncontrollably. Jason wraps you up in his arms. You feel your whole body start to go slack in disbelief. He's real. He's alive, he's here.

"I'm sorry I made you wait." he says.

You wrap your arms around him tightly now, "You're back. You're really back."

You pull back from him a bit, he looks down at you. You can read the worry in his eyes. You reach up and cup his face. He lets out a strangled breath.

"I missed you so much."

a/n: I had to stop myself before it came a behemoth and I dragged you on for a slow burn. this was really fun to write. Especially the elemental part! thanks for sending this in !! <3333

[goldenraeofsun]

Baskerville

Dick vaults the last flight of stairs to the Batcave and sprints down the platform to the infirmary area. “Damian!” 

“Master Dick,” Alfred tsks as Dick skids to a halt outside the curtained area. “Please keep your voice down. Master Damian is resting.”

“I just heard,” Dick pants as he peers around Alfred to see through a gap in the curtains. “Did he say who did it?”

“Not exactly –” Alfred starts before Steph’s voice interrupts, her voice curt, “Jason.”

Dick steps around Alfred, ignoring his put-upon sigh, and slips by Damian’s bedside to stand next to Steph, barefaced, her eyes cold, as she stands next to the small figure hooked up to far too many tubes and covered in far too many bandages.

“Oh, Dames,” Dick murmurs as he reaches over to hold two of Damian’s fingers, the only visible part of him not covered in gauze. He bites his lip as he catalogs the TBI, broken left ulna, five bullet wounds his other limbs, probably fractured if not broken ribs, and split lip.

He turns to Steph. “You were patrolling together?”

Steph nods once, the movement too sharp. Her flinty gaze doesn’t waver from Damian’s face. “The Narrows. Apparently we got too close to Jason’s turf for his liking.”

Dick frowns. The edge of the gauze covering Damain’s hand chafes against his thumb, and he has to consciously stop himself from worrying it. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“This is exactly like him,” Steph snarls under her breath. “Tim told me about Jason’s attack at the Tower after he came back. A concussion, fractured jaw, broken clavicle, a fucking bootprint of a bruise on his back from where Jason kicked him into a stone statue. Lacerations all over from being thrown around like a ragdoll by a guy with half a foot and eighty pounds on him.”

Dick’s shoulders tense, involuntarily bristling at Steph’s actuation. “He has changed.”

“Clearly, he hasn’t.”

Dick shakes his head. “That was years ago. Talia messed with his head, convinced him that Tim took his place.”

“So Tim got that epic beatdown because Jason didn’t check his sources?” Steph hisses, incensed. Her eyes burn with a rage Dick hasn’t seen in a while - he has to stop himself from taking a step back. “And what could possibly be his reason to mess with Robin this time around? The kid would rather stab himself with his katana than pick up a gun and patrol Crime Alley.”

“I have no idea,” Dick says honestly. “And you’re sure it was Jason? It wasn’t… a copycat? A frame job?”

Steph’s mouth twists. “A copycat wearing Jason’s helmet, in Jason’s territory, that moved exactly like Jason?” She looks up at Dick for the first time since he arrived. “I may be blonde, but I’m not that blonde, Dick.” Jaw clenched, she averts her gaze again and starts to pace.

Dick sighs. Too many conflicting emotions are bombarding beneath his ribcage, too many questions left unanswered.

“If he walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, shoots armor piercing rounds like a duck…” Steph continues as she pivots back towards Dick and Damian, her footsteps unnaturally loud in the Cave. 

“But, he’s been good,” Dick says quietly, half to himself, half to Steph. “Sure, Jason has his issues with us, but he covered for me when I had to deal with the demon cult in San Francisco last week.”

“Because covering for you meant taking down the Yakuza’s growing foothold in Bludhaven,” Steph says impatiently before she takes off again. “He wiped them out in two nights and spent the rest of the time signing you up for every porn magazine still in circulation and stealing your wingdings to melt into bullets.”

Dick’s eyes widen. “How did you know that?”

She stops dead, scoffing, “Please, like Bruce is the only person who has your place bugged.”

“You bugged my –”

“Not me,” Steph cuts him off, making a face like Dick is an idiot. “Tim.”

Dick just sighs. He’ll have to do another sweep of his apartment soon if he has to start looking for Tim’s tech in addition to Bruce’s.

“It was Jason,” Steph mutters as she turns back to Damian, lying so still. “I have no idea why, but he did this. He did this to Robin.”

Dick turns back to Damian’s still form and gives his fingers a light squeeze, his heart impossibly heavy. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Steph.”

“If you need an extra pair of hands to take him down,” she says as she unclasps her cape and pulls aside the curtain separating them from the rest of the Cave, “you know who to call. I’m going to go hit stuff for a while.”

* * *

Nightwing is talking with Arkham’s chief of security when his com bursts to life. Spoiler’s voice screeches, “Back up, I need back up! Anyone there? Hello?”

Nightwing blinks, all attention focused on Spoiler. He holds up a finger to Ms. Yenn and taps his com. “Where are you?”

“The Bowery!”

Nightwing’s blood goes cold. With Arkham security measures and the destruction of the bridge during the breakout last night, it’ll take him at least fifteen minutes to get back to Gotham’s mainland and yet another twenty to get all the way to the east side. Red Robin might actually get to her faster; but he’s lurking somewhere in the Diamond District at this time of night, twenty minutes to the south of the Bowery.

“What’s the threat?”

A click of another line joining the frequency. 

Spoiler pants, “Jason!”

“Jason?” Red Robin repeats, the faintest whistle of air in the background.

Nightwing would bet the last of his wingding stash that Red Robin’s already on his way to Spoiler’s location. “Hang on, Spoiler, we’re heading to you.”

He turns back to Yenn, “I’m sorry, ma’am, I have to cut this short –”

“I can’t outrun him, guys,” Spoiler pants. She yelps, and dread pools in Nightwing’s stomach. "He's too fast. Like, really fast."

In a rush, Nightwing says, “Here are our recommendations for repairs.” He all but throws the drive at Yenn. “I’ll check back in next week if you need anything from us –”

“Fuck!” 

“Have a good night now!” He barrels through the doors of Arkham and sprints for the docks where he moored his boat. 

“Why the hell are you doing this?” Spoiler demands, breathless but determined.

Red Robin’s voice comes in, “Hold on, I’m ten minutes out.”

But in bat-time, ten minutes might as well be an hour, and by the way Spoiler doesn’t respond, she knows it too. 

Nightwing asks, “And you’re sure it’s Jason?” 

“She’s not stupid,” Red Robin responds instead, his voice tense. “If she says it’s Jason, it’s Jason.”

“Right, right,” Nightwing says over the slap of Gotham Bay’s choppy waters against the side of his boat. “I –”

“Has Robin woken up yet?” Red Robin asks. “To get his story?”

Nightwing's fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “He woke up, but he wasn’t lucid.”

The sounds of three impacts in rapid succession travel down the line. Spoiler grunts in pain, and Nightwing guns the engine.

“ETA, Red Robin?” Nightwing asks.

“Eight minutes,” Red Robin reports, his voice strained. “I ran like five red lights already and nearly killed a guy on a segway, but that’s his fault for driving a goddamn segway.”

Nightwing kills the engine as he approaches the marina. With his pulse thundering in his ears, he rides the tragically slow current to the edge of the dock. He throws out the bow and stern lines and ties them up in knots that would make Bruce ground him for a week for sloppiness, back in his Robin days.

As he’s racing to his parked bike, Spoiler screams.

An ominous series of thumps come through over the comms.

“Steph, hold on!” Red Robin shouts.

Nightwing flies down the street, heading eastward. 

Spoiler moans. “What the fucking hell is wrong with you?” she gasps, coughing wetly.

This whole time, Spoiler’s opponent hasn’t said a word, which raises every single one of Dick’s red flags. If Jason had one kryptonite, it was his big, fat mouth. Like all former Robins, quips and kicks came to him naturally. And Jason might’ve ditched the roundhouses for Sig Sauers, but he can never shut his trap when the opportunity presents itself.

“Five minutes!” Red Robin calls over a flurry of honks and yells from roaring through another red light.

Spoiler doesn’t respond, but the gunshot comes in loud and clear, followed by the heart-stoppingly familiar burst of static. Her comm has been crushed.

“Tell me what’s happening, Red Robin,” Nightwing demands.

“Four minutes,” Tim says breathlessly.

The next four minutes pass in a blur of lights and pedestrians. The static rings in Nightwing’s ears, deafening in the silence over the comm line. He weaves in between the cars, through the smallest of gaps to shave off fractions of seconds.

Red Robin next checks in, and Nightwing almost misses the next turn, shifting his weight just in time, making it just in time.

“She’s here. She’s alive,” Red Robin pants, his relief palpable. “Just barely. Pulse thready. I’m getting her out of here.”

Nightwing exhales a slow breath, trying to calm himself. Disaster mostly averted, but a disaster that should have never happened in the first place.

He needs to get a handle on this, before anyone else gets hurt.

“Any visual on her attacker?”

Red Robin doesn’t answer immediately. Eventually, he says, after an extremely judgemental silence, “No sign of Jason.”

Two minutes after Red Robin whisked Spoiler away, Nightwing pulls up to her last location at the edge of the Bowery, a wide open space of concrete and weeds underneath the overpass. Scuff marks, drops of blood leading to a larger pool, hallmarks of a fight decorate the eastern edge of the lot. The scene makes his stomach churn, but he finds no evidence left by her attacker. After a fruitless search, he heads back to the Cave. 

He stays beside Damian for hours, trying his best to calm him down when he opens his eyes to see Steph on the bed next to him, unconscious and hooked up to all their backup monitors.

They have to sedate him again. 

Once both are stable and resting under Alfred’s careful eye, Dick sneaks out. If Tim caught wind of Dick’s plan, he’d never let him go through with it. But Dick couldn’t take the chance that Tim would spook Jason and Dick would be back at square one. Jason and Tim got along like two feral cats with distinct territories – fine at a distance, but chaos in close quarters.

No, he can’t afford to have Tim as backup. He’ll handle Jason on his own.

* * *

Jason watches himself wash his hands in his cramped safehouse bathroom. Silently, he seethes. Stephanie Brown’s crimson red blood turns the water pink and swirls down the drain. His head raises to the stained mirror above the sink.

“Don’t be so glum,” comes out of his mouth. His eyes stare back at him, dark and fathomless. His face smiles, too wide, baring too many teeth.

A broad, gleeful smile. 

“A little louder, lambchop. I think you may have a collapsed lung.”

The crowbar swings again.

He struggles. The ropes dig into his wrists and ankles. No give at all. He’s completely helpless.

“I left her alive, didn’t I?” comes out of his mouth next, and Jason throws himself against the invisible confines of his own head, trying to wrest back control of his body, swearing a blue streak that would make Alfred wash his mouth out with soap.

His reflection does not move an inch. “Now,” it tuts, “that’s not a very nice thing to say about my mother. Yours was hardly a saint.” It turns to dry Jason’s hands on the threadbare maroon towel hanging opposite the toilet. “Child neglect, drug abuse, not to mention her weak constitution. Is that something people say anymore? ‘Weak constitution’? I can never keep up with the lingo. But your head is filled with such fascinating vocabulary.”

It leaves the bathroom, and Jason loses sight of his reflection. He’s just a pair of eyes, unable to so much as twitch his pinky finger.

“Boring,” it declares as it picks up a first edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles on the end table by Jason’s couch. It lets the book fall to the floor, ignoring Jason’s wordless scream of rage. Left there, it will crack the fucking spine and, well, it was a gift from Bruce.

Jason fucks with everything else in Bruce’s life, but not their first editions. Some things are sacred, even from beyond the grave.

The first year he and Bruce were on semi-decent terms, Jason came back to his safehouse after a quiet patrol on his birthday – and Jason has thoughts about Bruce’s interference with his patrol too – to find a new book nestled among the other beaten up Penguin Classics and shitty sci fi novels he takes on boring stakeouts. There was no slip of paper with a happy birthday note on the inside, but words have never been Bruce’s forte. 

But it was their thing, so it had to be Bruce. 

No movie was too campy to watch with Dick. No cold case was too cold to tackle with Tim. And no martial arts technique was too obscure to teach Damian. 

But with Jason, no first edition was ever too rare to track down and give to his second Robin.

Jason howls as he watches his steel-toed boot kick The Hound of the Baskervilles under the coffee table. A few pages come loose and flutter back to the ground. Not a sound escapes his mouth.

“My bad,” it says in a sing-song voice that makes Jason’s blood boil. “No matter. Conan was a real fraud, let me tell you  –”

It pauses at the sound of a tap-tap-tap on the window.

At the sight of the blue finger stripes, Jason’s stomach sinks. Fuck no, Dick can’t be here. He is playing right into its hands –

But Jason just beats at the invisible bars of his cage as his body marches to stand in front of the window. His face morphs into a feigned expression of confusion as Dick meets his gaze through the glass. Get away, he screams, but, what comes out is, “Dickface, you got a problem using my front door like everyone else?”

“This is faster,” Dick grunts as he neatly disables Jason’s security measures and slides inside, graceful as one of Damian’s cats. “Plus, I’m not here for a social call.”

“So what do I owe the visit, then?” it asks, crossing its arms over its chest and raising an eyebrow.

Dick sighs. “Someone has been attacking… us,” he says slowly, studying Jason’s face carefully for his reaction.

It drops the defensive stance. “Who? Are the kids okay?” it asks.

Jason fumes. It’s not me! he shouts, but the demon gives nothing away. 

“Damian and Stephanie, so far,” Dick says, his lips pursing. “Someone got the drop on them. They who knew what he was doing. They evaded all cameras and left no evidence.”

The guilt, always lurking in the back of Jason’s mind, rolls over him like a freight train. He did that. Those attacks were his fault. 

The gremlin, flat on the ground, his hand twisted the wrong way from his broken arm, three bullet grazes leaking blood, and two bullet holes gushing with it. Five in total.

Blondie, slumped over, a halo of red surrounding her bright hair. Cracked ribs and a twisted ankle. A bullet in her thigh, left shoulder, calf, and, of course, that near miss at her temple. Head wounds always bled like a bitch. Four shots in total.

Clues for Dick to find.

Every time the demon would propose a plan of attack, alone in his apartment with just Jason for company, he would try to think of something else, anything else, but it was like asking someone not to think of a pink elephant. His mind would betray him, his real thoughts would drift to the surface, and the demon would gleefully snatch them from his consciousness and improve its plan with Jason's contribution.

Jason knew the kid, knew what they taught him in the League, and knew what Bruce was teaching him now.

He shudders, but of course none of this shows on his face.

Stephanie was harder, since Jason didn’t have as much of a history with her, and she started her vigilante career self-taught, outside of Bruce’s influence. But, Jason has several years of Bat training and League tutelage on her, not to mention a hundred pounds of muscle, so it got her in the end.

Tim – Jason dreads what the demon has in store for Tim Drake. 

“Have the gremlin or blondie said who did it?” the demon asks, raking a hand through Jason’s hair as if lost in thought.

As Dick struggles to answer, Jason tries to wrest control of anything, his pinky finger, his right knee, his left eyebrow. He lashes out at his confines, silently howling his rage.

“They both say you did it,” Dick says quietly.

It actually reels back a step – You’re overselling it, you bastard – and puts on some stupid, wounded look on his face that Jason would slap off, if he could. But, judging by Dick’s hurt expression, he’s falling for the act, hook, line, and sinker. 

Fuck you, Dick.

If Jason went around randomly attacking Bats, he’d own up to it like a man. He took on Batman himself when he was fresh out of the League, fueled by angst and spite. And when Bruce tracked him down, did Jason play coy and say, Oh, no Bruce you got the wrong dead kid you adopted and then kicked to the curb ? No, Jason did his big reveal, they had an epic fight, and he went on with his plans. Zero subterfuge, no underhanded manipulation – that was Bruce’s game, not Jason’s.

“It wasn’t me,” it answers Dick in a disturbingly convincing voice. No more than a whisper with a hint of warning.

Dick glances around, his gaze catching on one of the stray The Hound of the Baskervilles pages. “Sherlock Holmes?” he asks as he scans the text, his brow furrowing.

“What? I may not have graduated high school, but I know how to read,” it says, its tone pointed.

Dick holds up his page-free hand in a gesture of no-harm. “I didn’t think detective stories were your thing. But I should’ve known,” he says with a light chuckle that makes Jason want to throttle him because how can he be laughing now, at all times, “Brit Lit wins out over everything else, right?”

Jason feels his mouth stretch into an easy smile. “Right,” it says with his voice.

Fuck you twice over, Dick. 

Jason loved detective stories as a kid; all Robins did. They were raised by the World’s Greatest Detective; Sherlock Holmes was practically required reading, and Conan Doyle was definitely more fun than the old GCPD case reports that Bruce set as weekly assignments. Jason could tell the difference between deductive and inductive reasoning before he put on the scaly panties.

“Do you have any tracking data that recorded your location earlier tonight and last Friday?” Dick asks.

If Jason had a jaw he could use, it would have dropped open in surprise. Dick didn’t swallow the demon’s story whole.

But as the demon does something with Jason’s face, Dick rushes to say, “Damian and Steph will want proof.”

Jason would swear at the top of his voice if he could. He should’ve known. 

“They don’t know you like I do,” Dick says – pleads, really.

Christ, the guy’s pathetic.

“Well, you can’t have it,” the demon says, with a fair approximation of Jason’s quick temper. “I already have enough Bats up in my business. I don’t need little birdies on my tail when you play pin the tail on Jason because Robin took one too many blows to the head and started seeing things.”

“But–”

“Get out,” it says over Dick’s objections.

“Jay–” Something on the demon’s face makes Dick cut himself off. He carefully sets the page down on the coffee table. “Fine, I’m going. Just, look out for yourself, okay?” He meets Jason’s eyes. “I know you didn’t do this, Little Wing.” 

I didn’t.

“Get out, before I make you,” the demon says before it all but shoves Dick back out the window and slams it down behind him.

As they both watch Dick swing away, it says, “Now, let the real fun begin.”

* * *

Tim is almost too easy to track down. Despite the clear and present danger, Timmy keeps the same patrol routes he always does, with the added bonus of Big Brother watching in the wings, no doubt trying to catch the real perpetrator in the act.

Obviously, the demon couldn’t have that, so it hires a few brainless goons to blow up a yacht party on Penguin’s second-biggest boat at the same time as it places a fake 911 call about a convenience store robbery. Even if Dick figures out it’s a ploy to separate them, he will still feel compelled to stay and help search and rescue in Gotham Bay.

Jason watches with a churning feeling as Nightwing heads south and Red Robin goes north. The demon actually rubs its hands together like a two-bit spaghetti western villain about to tie a damsel to a set of train tracks.

It hops over the rooftops, supernaturally fast and agile. It keeps Red Robin at a distance, careful not to set off his well-honed sixth sense of being watched. It wouldn’t do to have Tim calling in Dick too early and ruining the big surprise.

The demon catches up with him after fifteen minutes. 

At his absolute fastest, it will take Nightwing half an hour to reach them, which is more than enough time.

“So I’m next on the list, huh?” Tim says, his voice dry as he turns around at the sound of Jason’s boots thumping down on the roof behind him. Quick as lightning, Tim snaps out his collapsible bo staff.

The demon, predictably, doesn’t say a word. It does, however, set off a miniature EMP to fry all of Tim’s fancy gadgets.

Tim raises a hand to his comm. “I want you to know, I was right,” he says. “It is Jason.”

It watches with sick satisfaction as Tim realizes his comm is dead. No help is coming. 

“What the hell did you do that for?” Tim asks as he nonchalantly twirls his staff, but Jason can read his nerves in the tense set of his shoulders – loose, Bruce always told them to stay loose – and the way he keeps his focus on Jason, not once scanning his peripherals.

“You rely on your toys too much, Timmy,” it says, taking a step closer. “So I thought I’d teach you a lesson. You need it, from what I’ve seen. You have none of Nightwing’s fluidity. Half of my brawn. A quarter of the gremlin’s training.” It reaches up and takes off Jason’s helmet, so Tim can see his bare face. “If I had to find a comparison, I’d say you’re most on level with Blondie, and she was, what, Robin for 73 days?”

Internally, Jason winces. He’d never say all that to Tim.

He’d think it, sure.

Because, from his experience, Tim isn’t a fighter on the same caliber as him and Dick and probably Damian once the little hellion goes through puberty. Tim fights smarter, relies more on his gadgets and environment than they do. He’s a relatively easier Robin to beat in close quarters, but he’s almost impossible at a distance. 

In the nonexistent-privacy of his own head, Jason’s admitted dozens of times over the past week that the kid is good and shouldn’t be underestimated. 

Tim takes the criticism with a completely blank expression. “Are you going to babble at me all night or are you actually going to do something? Because I gotta say,” he twirls his staff, daring Jason to attack while his weapon is occupied, “I’m feeling a bit left out you’re not giving me the silent treatment like you did –”

The demon lunges.

Tim dances out of the way in a dodge he definitely learned from Dick, and the fight is on.

Like with Steph and Damian, Jason tries to shut it out, but he can’t close his eyes; he can’t look away. And the demon takes all of his split-second judgments and hurls them at Tim in a merciless barrage.

A vicious punch to his kidney. “C’mon, you’re dropping your elbow, Timbo.”

A high kick to his face. “Oh, you almost blocked that in time!”

A one-two combo that sends Tim staggering back, blood dripping from his split lip, one hand cradling his cracked ribs. “Is that all you got?”

Tim smiles, crimson lacing over his teeth. “I’m just getting started.” He shifts his weight to his back foot, preparing to strike. 

The demon leans to the left for a feint –

Tim leaps backwards off the roof.

Shocked, the demon and Jason hear the poom of Tim’s grapple firing before the demon lets out a yell and follows.

Tim sprints across the increasingly decrepit Burnley townhouses, hurtling over planters full of dead bushes and overflowing piles of garbage. A stray beer bottle nearly trips him up, but he catches himself just in time. He leaps for the next building over and easily clears the ten feet of distance. 

He glances behind him, the whites of his lenses reflecting the orange street lamps. With a low curse, he throws a birdarang over his shoulder and keeps running.

The demon ducks, a feral smile curling its lip.

Tim goes too short on his next jump. His midsection slams into the edge of the roof, and he audibly gasps in pain. His gloved fingers scrabble for purchase on the crumbling concrete, and he levers himself over just as the demon takes off from the next building over. Tim sucks in a deep breath as he takes off again, weaving between rusted lawn chairs and pots full of weeds and brown dirt.

Jason and the demon overtake Tim at the next building. With a snarl, the demon yanks on Tim’s cape, sending him crashing to the ground. 

“Neat trick,” it says as it pulls out Jason’s gun from its holster. “But as fun as our little chase scene was, game’s over now, birdbrain.”

Flat on his back, Tim throws another birdarang, trying to knock the gun out of his hand. It lodges between his knuckles, and Jason internally winces at the sight, but the demon ignores it. Doesn’t even bother removing it before he fires two shots, one at each of Tim’s legs, aiming for the gaps in the armor. A third buries itself in Tim’s arm.

Tim screams as the bullets go in and through. 

“Come on, I didn’t even hit any bones,” it says in an almost bored voice as it stands over Tim, one firm, steel-toed boot on his cape, keeping him pinned like a butterfly to a corkboard. “Walk it off.” It smirks down at Tim as it plucks the birdarang out of his hand and tosses it over his shoulder. “If you can.”

Tim just glares, the corners of his mouth pinched with pain. At least he doesn’t try to get up and embarrass himself.

“Oh, right,” it says drolly, as it crouches by Tim’s side and roughly cuts him out of his outersuit, leaving it to soak up the steadily growing pool of blood around them. Redundancy is Bruce’s middle name, so the demon won’t take any chances with trackers powered by body heat or friction. It slices down the laces of Tim’s boots and pries them off.

Once Tim’s just in his black undersuit and barefoot, it hauls Tim over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and, ignoring Tim’s grunt of agony and increasingly pale face, jumps off the roof. It heads to Jason’s nearest safehouse, now three blocks away since Tim led it on that not-so-merry chase deeper into Burnley.

“Why are you taking me,” Tim groans. “You left Steph and Damian where you put them down.”

“You’re just special, Timberly,” it says as it clears another roof, landing with a heavy thump that makes Tim groan. And because it can’t let that backhanded compliment just hang there, it adds, “Bet that’s the first time anyone’s told you that, huh?”

Tim lets out a series of awful little whimpers as demon’s stomps down each of the fire escape stairs outside his safehouse. Jason catches sight of his reflection around in a third floor window, and his back is absolutely coated with blood from Tim’s bullet-ridden legs. His jacket glistens with it.

Not good.

Clang!

He startles at the sound of metal on metal, and the demon turns his head to watch one of his glocks clatter through the slats to the alley floor. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with guns?” it asks, ducking its head to get a good look at Tim, hanging upside down.

Tim just smirks and drops Jason’s other gun from where he palmed it. Down into the alley below it goes.

“You’re going to pay for that,” the demon growls. 

Tim says nothing, and Jason pushes down his worry. The snark is always the first to appear and last to disappear once a Robin puts on the cape. He tries to turn his head back to check on Tim, to make sure he’s still alive, but the demon doesn’t let him budge an inch. 

It just hikes Tim higher and opens the window to his safehouse. It drops Tim on the circular area rug in the living room. Tim coughs as he rolls onto his side, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “Sit tight, Timmy. I’ve got to make a call.”

“Good fucking luck,” Tim spits.

Jason would sigh in relief if he could.

The demon stops, turns to squint down at Tim in the dark living room. “What the hell are you talking about?”

But Tim just rolls over again and closes his eyes, his breathing too fast and too shallow.

“Now,” it pulls Jason’s phone out of his pocket, “What should we tell big bro, hm?”

The lights switch on.

The demon whirls in place as Dick pushes off the far wall, his expression furious. “You could tell me what the hell you were thinking, going after my family.”

For a beat, they just stare at each other.

Tim groans into the silence, “Quit the dramatics, Dick.”

Face stricken, Dick darts forward and starts to drag Tim closer.

“Woah, hey, not so fast,” the demon purrs as it reaches for Tim.

But Dick is faster; he yanks Tim out of the demon’s reach. Tim cries out as the carpet gives way to wooden floor. “Sorry, sorry,” Dick murmurs as he crouches down to run his fingers through Tim’s sweaty hair. He isn’t even looking at Jason.

Jason can’t believe it. He can count about a hundred ways Dick is leaving both of them open to attack. This goes beyond stupid.

Evidently the demon agrees with him: “What are you doing?”

Dick ignores the question. Doesn’t even glance up. “Brace yourself,” he says to Tim, “One…” he hefts Tim into his arms way before he gets to three. His mouth tightens as Tim’s eyes fly open and his face contorts in pain.

And then Dick turns his back on the demon.

“Where are you going?” It circles around to block their exit – 

Jason blinks as his forehead rams into an invisible wall. The demon reels back, almost tripping over its own feet. It darts a hand out, grunting as its knuckles meet solid air.

“I’m going to get Tim to Alfred downstairs,” Dick says. He turns his head, so Jason can see the hard glint to his eye, “And then I’m going to get you out of my brother.”

Struck dumb, the demon doesn’t say another word as Dick disappears with Tim out the door.

What the fuck just happened?

Dick… knows?

* * *

Alone in Jason’s safehouse, the demon feels around its invisible cage, muttering to itself. 

Not so fun when it happens to you, is it? Jason thinks savagely

The confines closely follow the border of the area rug, and when the demon peels it back, Jason marvels at the intricate runes carved in the wood underneath that definitely weren’t there the last time he was in this safehouse.

“How did he…” it drifts off, gnashing Jason’s teeth.

“You just couldn’t resist needling Jason, could you?” Dick says, and the demon looks up to find him leaning against the front door frame, arms crossed over his chest, his face impassive. “You did the same thing in San Francisco.” He shuts the door behind him. “It wasn’t enough to mess with the cultists that dredged you up from hell in the first place, you had to make your host’s life miserable too, even though she was just an innocent bystander.”

The demon straightens. “What can I say,” it starts, dropping the act. It stands preternaturally still. “The eternally devoted are just so boring, you know? Complete subservience wears off so soon.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Dick deadpans. He pulls a slim, leather-bound book out of nowhere. “Now, shut up. I have to concentrate. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas –”

Suck it, Jason crows to the demon. Dickie’s gonna kick your ass back to hell.

“Wait,” the demon shouts over the exorcism, “I can help you!”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Dick says tonelessly without looking up. “Omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica –”

“Power? Money? Love? You could have it all!”

If Jason had a mouth, he would laugh loudly. As if Dick doesn’t have exactly as much power, money, and love as he wants. He runs multiple superhero teams, and he’s the son of Bruce Wayne. Nightwing is about as beloved as heroes go, save maybe Superman or Wonder Woman.

There’s nothing a demon could offer Dick Grayson that he couldn’t make happen himself. 

Well, maybe –

“Your parents,” the demon announces, and Jason lets out a wordless scream of rage. Of course the fucker picked up on that.

Dick speeds up as wind starts to whip up around them. “Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te –”

“I could bring them back for you.”

Dick’s brow furrows, and he swallows once before restarting, “ Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare –”

“They’d live long, happy lives,” the demon adds.

Dick pauses. 

Oh, fuck.

Worst of all, Jason can’t blame Dick in the slightest. Objectively, he knows John and Mary Grayson were good people, and he is not. Jason is doing good work, sure, but he wouldn’t call himself a good person. 

Moreover, Dick definitely has thoughts on Jason’s definition of “good work” and exactly how much killing that requires.

His saintly parents for the low, low price of one possessed, morally compromised brother? That’s hardly a choice.

The demon goads, “They’d see all you’ve accomplished, all the lives you’ve saved, all the disasters you’ve averted.”

Jason really does not like that faraway look in Dick’s eye. 

It continues, “They would be so proud, and you’d have your family back.”

Dick’s fingers tighten on pages. He looks up, his eyes flashing. “My family is right here, and I already know my parents are proud of me.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Jason, hold on. Constantine said you’re in for a pretty bumpy ride. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis –”

The demon yells, and the wind picks up, whipping at his hair, tugging and pulling at his clothes. Pins and needles break out all over his body. And Jason can’t even enjoy having physical sensation back before it turns to white-hot pokers, like fire licking at every inch of his skin.

He can’t even tell who is screaming any more. He has no idea if Dick is still speaking at all. All he knows is the pain.

He falls to his knees, choking and spluttering over bitter, rancid air. Down on all fours, he retches with whole body heaves. The fire spreads down his throat. It burns like acid to the very pit of his stomach. He gags, and tears spring to his eyes as something black and tarry slithers out of his mouth and splats onto the carpet.

“ – audi nos!”

Jason watches, horrified, as the thing bubbles down into nothing. Panting for breath and shivering all over, he scrambles back, off the carpet until his back hits the wall beneath the window.

Silence rings in his ears.

“Jason?” Dick drops into a squat until he’s at Jason’s level even though he’s still all the way across the room by the door. “Are you back with me?”

Jason nods, the movement too quick and too jerky, but Dick just sags back against the door in relief. 

“Thank god,” he mutters as he lets the book drop to the floor. He runs a weary hand down his face.

For a long moment, they just stare at each other. 

Dick speaks first. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

Jason blinks. “For what?” He’s the one who beat the majority of their family to bloody pieces over the past week. His fists gave Damian a concussion, dislocated Stephanie’s shoulder, and cracked Tim’s ribs. His mind gave away all their weaknesses, starting with Dick: his family.

“For not getting the monster back in San Francisco,” Dick says, staring at Jason’s ceiling. “I just pissed it off enough to follow me back here.”

“Oh,” is all Jason can say.

Dick just shakes his head, his throat working as he swallows. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

Jason’s skin crawls at the undeserved apology. He scrambles for a new subject instead. “I’m just trying to figure out when you knew it wasn’t me.”

Dick’s gaze flicks to the dark bookshelf in the corner of the room. It’s smaller than the one in his primary safehouse, but still stacked with well worn paperbacks and a few hardback short story anthologies. “It messed with your first edition.”

“One loose page was enough to clue you in?” he raises his eyebrows. “What kind of Sherlock Holmes shit are you on?”

Dick shrugs. “All signs pointed to you, but you were insisting it wasn’t you.” He exhales a loud breath. “It wasn’t adding up. If you had a grudge against any of us, you’d own up to it. Creatively and loudly, if I know you at all. Ergo, it was you but wasn’t you at the same time. Does that make sense?”

Jason snorts. “No.”

“So, less Sherlock Holmes and more brother intuition,” Dick says with a tired smile.

Jason can’t help pressing, “You really didn’t buy its innocence act for a second? The other option, that I was going after the kids, that’s gotta be your worst nightmare.”

“I’m an optimist,” Dick says flatly, “not an idiot. There’s a difference.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s always trust but verify with you.”

Jason shakes his head. “ Doveryay, no proveryay? Really?”

“доверяй, но пр��веряй” Dick repeats, the slavic syllables rolling off his tongue with a native-sounding fluency that makes Jason’s stomach clench with envy. He’s fluent too, but he will never sound like that. Dick adds, “With your history, can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” Jason says as he curls his fingers into fists.

“But this wasn’t you,” Dick says as he gets to his feet and silently walks towards Jason. “Everyone knows that, now.” He reaches down, offering Jason his hand to help him up.

Jason doesn’t take it. “It was my hands,” he mutters, “my guns.”

“But it wasn’t you,” Dick says, more firmly this time. His hand doesn’t waver. “I know you, Jay. You’ve changed. You wouldn’t attack us out of the blue.”

Jason just grunts.

Dick waggles his fingers in Jason’s face. “Come back to the Cave with me. I’m gonna pass out any minute now, and Alfred needs an assistant to help with Tim, Steph, and Damian. I don’t know what’s in the water over there, but they’re all awful at resting up.”

“Pot, kettle, Dickface.”

“Hey,” Dick holds his other hand up, “I never said anything about me.” He thrusts his offered hand closer and nearly takes out Jason’s eye. “Not getting any younger here.”

Jason scowls up at him, leaning slightly to the left to avoid Dick’s overly enthusiastic invitation. “I bet the last thing the kids want to see is my face.”

“Actually, Tim wants a record of what it’s like to get possessed, so if it ever happens to him, he knows how to beat it,” Dick says with a warm smile. “When he wakes up, he’ll be pestering you nonstop for a complete recount. And I might’ve let slip to Steph that you watch Black Sails since she’s in a pirate phase, of all things.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Dick agrees. “And as for Damian, well, he’ll want to pick over your fight in nauseating detail to know how to beat you next time.”

Jason sighs loudly. “You’re not leaving here without me, are you?”

“Nope,” Dick says cheerfully.

Jason swats Dick’s hand out of the way and gets to his feet. “If you’re wrong, you’re next on my shitlist, got it?”

Dick shudders exaggeratedly as Jason opens the window to leave. “Oh, I’m so scared.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Jason says warningly. “You’re the last Robin left, the way I see it.”

Dick throws him an odd look before he climbs through to the fire escape. “No, I’m not.”

Jason takes the steps down three at a time. “What, did Bruce pick up another black haired twerp while I wasn’t looking?”

“No,” Dick says slowly as he follows. 

“Then what the hell are you talking about?”

“You, Jay. I’m talking about you,” Dick says, deliberately slowly like the demon might’ve taken more than a few braincells when it vacated Jason’s body. “I’m not the last Robin; we are.”

Jason turns away, his face heating. He jumps the rest of the way to the alley floor, scowling as Dick backflips his way down. “C’mon,” he mutters, “Alfred’s never gonna take a break if we’re not there.”

[wayneskluv]

peraltiago!au — part 1 — j. todd ¡! ❞

pairing: jason todd x f!reader

warnings: none currently

summary: the tension that engulfed the belfry was making the atmosphere almost unbearable, any one could sense the stress coming from each vigilante–specifcally you and jason todd.

two months ago, you had made a bet to see who could stop the most crimes or take down the most criminals whilst on patrol. If he lost, he had to give you his motorcycle, that was his absolute pride and joy, and if you lost, you had to go on a date with him on said motorcycle—which, according to you, would be the worst thing in the world. though bruce didn’t necessarily approve of this bet, even he had to admit both of you had done exceptionally well and your arrest rates had both significantly improved since the bet had begun.

a/n: uhhhh part one finally sorry it’s so short but i’ll post the next one soon

YOUR FIST flew straight into the already-bloody face of one of jokers thugs, your elbow raising behind you to collide with another’s gut, knocking the air out of him.

whilst you were distracted, you don’t notice four particularly strong looking goons approach you. one grabs your elbows, and the other hooking his arms around your knees, the other two standing menacingly on guard for if you even attempt to put up a fight. the weird gotham stench that lingered in the air started to blur your vision, and your head feels as if it will split in two. your kicks and struggles do nothing to aid you, and eventually you stop trying. you had rather decent fighting skills, but the truth was, they were just stronger.

just as you give up, you drop to floor with a swift movement, a comically loud thud echoing in the alley. you glance upward slowly, trying to make out the dark figure in the pale light. “you’re welcome.” you’d recognise that smug voice from anywhere. “i believe that means i’m up by, what was it?” jason pauses in mock-thought, tapping his gloved finger to his masked chin. “oh, right! four.” you can’t see his face, but you know all too well the cocky grin that was plastered on his face.

“there’s a week left, clocks ticking.” you hear a low chuckle from above you before his hand reaches out to help you up. you reluctantly take his hand, using your knees to push off the ground—you could feel the bruises from where you had been manhandled by the thugs.

“thanks.” you mumble under your breath, swallowing your pride for a moment to be polite—he did just save your life, who knows what the joker would’ve done once he got his hands on you.

jason’s leg swept the leg of a goon, knocking him on his arse. his palm comes into contact with the temple of one of jokers henchmen, quickly slamming his head into the wall.

you almost laughed at how easy he made it for you. he was beating up the tough idiots, whilst you were interrogating a crook in the corner. when you’d got the information you need, a sweaty jason stumbled over.

you click your tongue, “so nice of you to join us.” the smugness in your tone matches the exact same one he used nights before.

he lets out a sigh, though he has to admit the banter is amusing. “i believe that’s a point in my favour.” you tap your head set, signalling the oracle.

barbara’s exasperated voice comes through the headset, “yeah, i added it to the whiteboard already.” she was as fed up as the rest of the batfamily. at first, it was entertaining, but with a week left, you’d both become insufferable with your competitiveness and the teasing.

you tap your headset, rather out of breath with a thug beneath your shoe who had chosen to stupidly struggle. “two minutes to spare, and i’m up by one. admit defeat now, jason.”

his voice comes through, “oh no.” the tone isn’t worried at all, infact, it’s rather smug—and you just know he has that shit-eating grin plastered all over his face.

“damn straight, ‘oh no.’ oh no, why aren’t you worried?” you were trying to convince yourself he was trying to psych you out, there’s no way he could beat you.

almost on cue, you hear various thudding noises and muffled grunts. oh no. no, no, no, no. “i just took down twelve goons total, accept your fate.”

you bite back almost immediately, “never.” but there was nothing you could do about it now—and you just know he is going to be a dick about it. he begins counting down from ten, whilst you repeat the word ‘no’ like you’re batman with his robins.

when he finishes counting, a loud fan fare plays throw your headset, causing you to flinch at the deafening sound. (great job jason, not like that would alert your position or anything)

“y/n y/l/n, will you do me the honour, of going on the worst date of all time? you have to say yes.” he said, a smirk crossing his lips as he could only imagine the look on your face.

you groan in frustration, but a bet is a bet. “yes.” you breathe out—almost as if that was the most painful you’ve ever had to do.

“yes! she said yes!” he says, followed by a chorus of cheers through the headset—mainly because everyone it was finally over.

“come out, it’s date time. it’s time to date.” his voice sung out from behind your door, the tone he chose to deliver his words in showed that he wasn’t trying to hide that fact he was enjoying this immensely.

you press your lips tightly together before reluctantly stepping outside to the image of him next to his motorcycle. “jason, this dress is ridiculous.”

“c’mon, there’s plenty of embarrassing to do, and only a few hours to do it.” his cocky grin never falters, and you wonder if it physically hurts to be such an obnoxious douche all the time.

“do i really have to wear this all night?” you ask, gesturing down at the ridiculous dress you are wearing. he wasn’t poor, he was the son of bruce wayne for gods sake, but he chose this tacky, cheap dress just to spite you—you can’t really be mad, you’d do the same if you were in his shoes.

“you know the rules. i decide what you wear, what you eat, and where we go.” he says with a broad smirk, “oh, and one more thing.”

you raise your eyebrows, unsure if he’s gonna say something actually genuinely serious. “no matter what happens, you’re not allowed to fall in love with me.” the teasing tone almost makes you laugh.

a smile spreads across your face, and the tenseness of your shoulders deflates. “won’t be a problem.”

tags: @duchessdaisybat @blum0rph0 @b4tm4nn

[justanothervigalanty]

Jason and his girls

Age: y/n’s age (20) Jason’s age (21) Madeline’s age (5)

Characters:y/n m/n L/n , Jason Peter Todd and Madeleine/Maz Richard Todd 

info: you found out you were pregnant the day Jason died. You were so excited to tell him but then Bruce broke the news, Jason was dead only dick new about your and Jason’s little girl, Madeleine Richard Todd.

“Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home mama!” You heard your young 5 year old daughter say. “Maz honey we talked about this your father only comes for one week every other month, he was here last month baby” you said sitting up in bed. “No I promise I saw him come on!” She said dragging you out off bed with her two little hands. “Come on mama! Look it’s daddy!” She said pointing to the window. “Oh my god” you said seeing your boyfriend waving to you from the apartment opposite you. Maz opened the window and climbed out to the fire escape. “Madeline Todd you get back here right now!” You said as your daughter waved to her father. With that Jason used a grathaling hook and threw it to your fire escape and jumped over. “Hay mazie!” He said picking her up and bringing he back inside. “Jesus Christ maz don’t do that!” You said take in her in your arms. “Jace what’s wrong?” You said seeing the worried look on his face. “We need to go now” he said “pack all your things we need to leave!” He said grabbing some of maz’s things. “What jason what is going on!?” You said Jason’s hands were shaking as he grabbed his and some of maz’s things. “Maz hon go to your room and grab some clothes and your blanket.” She of course listens to her father which left you shocked she’s normally more stubborn than him! “Y/n were in danger we all are! The joker he’s targeted you, me and madeleine I need to get you both out of crime alley now!”  He said you just nodded and went to grab your bags. When you all finished packing you grabbed an old car seat and left your apartment, forever, your first home that you had raised your daughter in were you had marked her growing you would never see it again. “Babe? You ok?” You herd Jason say holding your hand. “I raised her in there. Since I was 16 we moved in on her first birthday dick helped pay and got some furniture for us and before you started visiting she would bang on the window every time see saw the red hood fighting some criminals and as she got more active she started running around hiding under tables holding her hands like a gun shouting boom at me.” You said trying to hold back tears by wiping your eyes “hay, hay don’t cry. I got you we all do. I know first homes are the hardest to leave behind.” Jason said hugging you “come on I called dick he’s driving us to the manor” 

you all went down stairs to see dick standing by his car. And helped you load it in before Jason and him got into a very quiet argument about who was driving (dick won). As you were on the road you whispered in Jason’s ear “you haven’t told Bruce yet have you?” 

“About what- oh yeah crap he has no idea.” He replied dick over herd and started laughing his butt off. “You mean Bruce has no idea you are a father to a freaking 5 year old!” He laughed “who is buse?” You herd your young daughter say “you haven’t even told her about him! God I question your parenting skills!” He said still laughing “can you shut up!” Jason said “no bad words Jason Todd!” Madeleine said giggling “hay is daddy or dad to you!” Jason said ruffling her hair “what? Mama called you that when she was shouting on the phone!” She said “she also said the b word” she added “no bad words miss Todd!” Dick said “not married!” You and Jason said at the same time. But then you arrived Wayne manor. You hadn’t been here in 6 years and god had it changed. But the worst thing was Bruce and Damian outside practicing hand to hand combat. Jason took a deep breath and when’t out to grab maz “umm nope we don’t need another robin no thank you!” Damian said seeing Jason and his niece (not that he knew). “She is not going to end up a robin! It’s stupid dangerous and dumb!” Jason said back “wait y/n?” Bruce said surprised to see you “god you look well different um when did I last see you?” 

“At Jason’s grave. I was 15. I told you I was leaving and not coming back.” You replied “well here she is!” Dick said closeting his door “Todd who is the child?” Damian asked unwrapping his hands. “Oh yeah Bruce there’s something I need to tell you. But can we go inside first?”jason said handing Madeline to dick. 

You and Jason were sat opposite Bruce. You were staring at the floor and Jason was figiting with his hands. “So what is this about? And who is the kid?” Bruce asked “That’s the thing, umm Bruce the girl is my daughter…” you said quietly but loud enough for Bruce to hear. “So you have been playing step-dad? Bruce laughed a bit to which Jason replied with a nervous chuckle. “No well she’s umm my kid like I am her dad and not like “oh yea I love her like my own kid” no as in half of her DNA is from me” Jason replied. “Ho wow umm ok well she looks a lot older than 2 or 3. That how long Jason had been coming over right?” Bruce said calmer then expected “well Bruce she’s kinda…5 years old…” the room fall silent. Bruce just covered his face in his hands. “So correct me if I’m wrong but if I am not mistaken y/n must off had her at-omg…”Bruce said realising “you got a girl pregnant at 16 and you got pregnant at 15…Jason .” Bruce said trying to stay calm. For the first time Jason actually looked kinda nervous. “Umm yeah Bruce?” “You where having sex at 16!” Bruce said through his teeth. “We were 14” you whispered after Jason put his hand over your mouth you stopped talking . “Ok what did you both call her?” Bruce asked “ho well I named her Madeline but Jason had always liked the name and plus he though up most her nicknames” you said not knowing how Bruce react to this. “Madeline or maz Richard Todd”

[sunnie-angel]

In the Shade of the Sun

jason todd x gn!reader

summary: a twin that can’t shake the feeling of being second best and a jason todd that’s all too familiar with always being compared to someone else

tags: angst

rating teen | wc: 2.1k

a/n: a response to a lovely ask partially inspired by this snack fic i wrote a while ago

Comparison has followed you since the minute you were born a twin. Earlier in fact, when the first few ultrasounds revealed a pair of heartbeats where there should have been only one. You’ve always been them-and-you, inseparable from the sibling that came into the world with you. You love them — how could you not love them? — but there are times when you also hate them a little bit too, for there never being a Them and a You. They don’t mean to shine so bright, to suck up all the air in the room leaving you to feel like a cheap knockoff bargain version of them. The twin that’s there too sounds about right, a nickname that whispers through your ears when rooms full of people seem to gravitate towards them.

Jason Todd has always been the second Wayne child, ever since he entered Bruce’s life. He was the second Robin shortly after, a title he can’t seem to shake no matter how long it’s been or how many different identities he’s tried on since. The unwanted son, three times over, the unwanted sidekick, unable to follow orders and constantly letting their emotions get the best of them. There’s a time when the idea of always coming second, of never being someone’s first choice, chokes the air out of his lungs. There’s a time when he chooses to make the first wound, to not care about being cared for. After all, with brothers like the Golden Boy and the Drake Heir, how can a screwup from Crime Alley compete? No, much better kill hope in its flowerbed and learn to expect nothing.

The moment Jason Todd lays eyes on you, he swears he can feel the stirrings of hope, buried deep underground but not yet dead. He reminds himself that it’s childish to wish someone would pick him for once, that bone deep longing to be someone’s priority nothing more than a trick of the mind and the effect of his drink.

The moment you lay eyes on Jason Todd, it feels like everyone in the room can see just how deeply interested you are in him. A gala, a college house party, the local dive bar — none of it matters anymore, fades into the backdrop of one of the most gorgeous and aloof men you’ve ever laid eyes. He’s the centre of so many hard gazes and lingering looks, people crowding along the periphery of his notice. There’s a room full of people and every one of them has taken notice of him, yet the only thing he seems to have noticed is the perspiration on his beer. He’s got a drink in his hand, dark glass of the long-necked bottle catching the light as he turns it between his fingers. What would it be like, you wonder, to have all of that single minded focus on you?

Your twin nudges you, makes some sort of mumbled remark about the handsome stranger that you don’t quite catch over the force of your fascination. They go off, pulling you along in the wake of their personality, ready to make friends and charm strangers. Your eyes never leave the stranger’s broad back, itching to see more and almost certain that no one will notice you trailing along with your brighter twin. By chance he glances up, eyes locking with yours. Staring back, you decide you may as well learn what his eye colour is if he’s already going to think you rude.

It goes quickly after that, a definitive clink as he sets down his beer, a few long strides before he’s standing in front of you asking to buy you a drink, you staring helplessly at your twin who only makes wide eyed shooing motions at you. The whole time he’s only got eyes for you. You agree, still shocked that this man would choose to make conversation with you out of everyone else present, but more than grateful to take this chance before he inevitably realizes that there’s really a better, shinier version of you holding court by the bar. Conversation starts in drips and drabs, soda sipped between off beat answers and interrupted questions. Jason tries though, and that more than anything has you slipping him your number with the promise of seeing him again.

Jason tucks that piece of paper away into the inside breast pocket of his leather jacket and smiles. Makes him feel good to know that just like Dick he can make someone blush and trip over their tongue, but also that people still have the same capacity to do that to him too. He’s had beautiful dates before, but none that had made him so giddy at the mere prospect of getting to know them more and to be known by them. It sobers his mood a bit, to know that the closer you get the less you’ll like what you see, but for now he’ll enjoy this and you.

The next time you see Jason, you’re determined to act like your twin would. After all, they’ve always been successful at getting people to like them and you both look similar enough that the same things should work for you too. It goes terribly. Their mannerisms fit like an ill-sized coat on you. Wrong and uncomfortable, a discordant note in every one of your sentences, you end up excusing yourself to the bathroom almost in tears. It takes staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror to check how red your eyes have gotten to make you catalogue all of your differences. The way your noses slope ever so slightly differently, the subtle difference in the shade of your irises, the crest of your brow bone curving where theirs flattens. You rejoin him fully yourself, thinking that at least he’ll only be rejecting you for yourself and not for all the ways you’ve not been able to measure up to your twin. Instead the air between you eases into something comfortable and affectionate.

Jason listens to you the way no one has ever listened to you before. He turns his whole body to you, head cocked on a slight angle to catch each word that you breathe out. An old head injury as a child, he explains, one that makes it harder to filter out ambient noise that he’s learned to overcome if he tilts his head just so. He is listening, he promises, it might not look like it always but he’s listening to you. He asks you to repeat yourself if he doesn’t catch something, makes a point of making sure you get heard in your own words. Ordinarily, this is where your twin would step in to paraphrase you at a louder volume. But he wants to hear you. If someone cuts you off in a social setting, he’ll bring the conversation back to you. Every thought you’ve had and every point you want to make gets heard. Jason cares about what you have to say because it is you — and no one else — saying it.

Jason is well aware that not all of your interests are aligned. He’s not seen all the movies you have, or heard about most of your niche topics of interest, but he’s come to care about them because you care about them. He listens to you because the joy on your face at noticing he cared about what you cared about has taken root in his own chest. Jason notices the way you hesitate and your face falls when someone interrupts you or summarily dismisses your opinions. He works to get your voice heard because in any scenario he will always choose you over anyone else. He remembers what it was like to work his way back into the family fold and to feel like the weight of his words went unrecognized and unheeded.

For both of you, the thought of introducing each other to your respective families is like the sword of Damocles hanging over your heads. Jason has a home full of brothers, each of them more capable than him in so many areas (and none of them having the same stupidity to get themselves trickery to being killed). He’s more nervous about introducing you to Dick (who he is mature enough to admit is a handsome idiot if only in his own mind), Tim (who is downright terrifying when it comes to strategy and tech, with a trust fund to match), and Damian (the kid’s got a few years yet before he’s competing for your heart but Jason swears he’s a much more talented Robin than he ever was) than he is about trusting you with the Red Hood. On your part, you think about introducing Jason to your twin and get paralyzed by how the inevitable comparison will leave you looking so inadequate. You’ve learned to live in the shadow they cast, their achievements standing tall beside them, but this is one thing you can’t bear to come second place in. Jason’s chosen you, but how long will that last when presented with someone that doesn’t have your flaws?

Your unknowingly shared fears lead the both of you to become snippy, testing the waters to see how far you can push before they stop choosing you. Things come to ahead when Jason asks you why you treat him like a secret, like something to hide away when all he wants to do is show the world — and your family — just how lucky he is. Why you won’t share him with your self-professed other half, if that means you aren’t as serious about this love of yours as he is. He doesn’t tell you what it costs him to say that out loud. How each word is like a frost come early, turning everything in its wake brittle and fragile.

There’s tears and snot and possibly too many used tissues to be sanitary before all your insecurities can be let out. Hung out for scrutiny under Jason’s piercing stare.

“It’s not that I don’t love them, or that I hate having a twin. It’s just that it never feels like there’s a real me if I’m not compared to them. And even then, it’s not like I can outshine them. I feel like I’m constantly running behind them, trying to catch up with them with my hand outstretched to reach them, but I never will. Always the one a half-step behind, too slow too small too not enough of everything that gives them that spark. And I didn’t want you to see everything I’m not and realize that there’s a better version of me out there.” (This of course, is not put so eloquently or said particularly coherently but rather through a choked throat and a runny nose that would out even the worst allergies to shame. He holds you through it all.)

“You know I’m just as scared of you meetin’ my family too? Every one of my parents found somethin’ to love more than me. A better brother, a better soldier, a better memory of me. And now I’ve got who knows how many adopted siblings and I’m still the black sheep of that family and I’ve gotta introduce you to all those perfect people and hope somehow you’ll still wanna choose me? I accepted a long time ago I wasn’t gonna be anyone’s priority until you came and waltzed your way into my life. You’re the only one that’s ever chosen me and kept on choosin’ me and everyday I wake up terrified it’ll be the day you stop.”

That conversation is the first of many, each one feeling like 10 rounds with Gotham’s worst villains. But after there’s always a sense of healing, acrid wounds finally draining of all their poison. Insecurities run deep in both of you, the constant fact you wake up to each other a surprise. The constant litany of what ifs eventually begins to run a little quieter. Comparisons you make in your own head become a little less harsh. You don’t always believe Jason when he says he loves you best, but that’s alright for now. You know now that one day you could believe it, every day a step closer to when you can hear it and not feel that twinge of doubt. Jason flinched in the beginning when you said you’d keep choosing him until tomorrow became yesterday. He flinches a little less now, even managed to press a kiss to your forehead every time you say it.

Eventually you do introduce each other to your families. When Jason mouths I love you best over the head of your twin, it plays to rest lurking doubts you thought had been banished months ago. When you link your arm with his and tell him, I don’t see what’s so great about all your brothers anyway, he barks out an incredulous laugh and squeezes you closer.